I am just overwhelmed by the ugly that seems to permeate this world. I want to keep my babes in the house, pull down the blinds, watch Little House on the Prairie and wait for Jesus to come back. I feel completely helpless in the face of all of the brokenness. There have been instances where I have stormed the gates of heaven with my prayers and the outcome was still not as I had hoped. I get discouraged and weary. Some days, I just want to go home.
I picture the men on the road to Emmaus. They were men who had believed, but did not fully understand. The man whom they had followed and believed in was dead. Though they had heard rumors of the resurrection, they just were not sure. I can feel the dust on the road and the heaviness of their hearts as they confess their disappointment.
But we had hoped that he was the one… – Luke 24:21
There have been times when my prayers were fervent and frequent and, yet, the marriage still fell apart or the person was not healed or that mama still buried her baby. And I confess that I do not understand because I had hoped. Scripture says that hope deferred makes the heart sick. I guess that is what I am – a little heartsick.
Here is what I know. My love of the Lord is not based on him doing what I had hoped he would do for me. When I do not understand what he has allowed to happen, I go back to what I know to be true of him. I remind myself of what he has already done for me. The cross was enough. If he never did another thing for me – that one act is worthy of all of my devotion. If there was no heaven, I would love him anyway.
That is what I go back to when fresh wounds are inflicted and old ones resurface. When I beg for relief and there is not any. When the loneliness threatens to take over. When the bills pile up. When death shows up ugly and cruel. When I had hoped…
I go back to the cross and find that it is still enough.