I suppose it's safe to say we all have "Jonah Days," as Anne of Green Gables called them. Hard days. Crashing off a wonderful weekend to nitty-gritty Mondays that stretch into Tuesdays. Days when the AC breaks, the refrigerator sits in the middle of the kitchen due to a burst pipe. Days when the toddler could wear a big red tag saying, "FRAGILE: Do Not Touch!"
I suppose we are all fragile sometimes. And it's ok because we are made to need. Made to depend. Made to need to be held, just like our weepy children.
I love how freely David was in his conversations with God. "The waves have swallowed me up! My enemies are triumphing over me! Where are you, God?!?"
David knew God in a deep, intimate way that allowed for all seasons of jagged and raw honesty.
I held my fragile child till she forgot about crying. While I can't fix the attitude she wants to marinate in, I can offer her my arms, my touch, my presence. I can show her love, even when her fussing grates painfully on my own exhaustion.
Perhaps the biggest gift of "Jonah Days" is the reminder to look up and not run away.
To reach deep and sigh in relief when we feel the steady and sure anchor that holds us safe and firm in the raging storm.
Mysteriously, we find that life is happiest when it's not about us but about Him.
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