Faithful

Through it all, through it all, my eyes are on you.

Through it all, through it all, it is well.

We sing the words again this morning and I remember.

Another day we sang this song, a day not too far in the past.

Today I can sing with gusto.

That day I could barely breathe.

That day I collapsed under the weight of what felt impossibly hard.

Making space for grace, making space for Love

During the home stretch in Little One’s case.

I was exhausted.

And I knew the days ahead would likely leave me more ragged and vulnerable than I already felt.

That day I knew that ultimately it would be well with my soul.

But it was the prayers of dear ones whispered in my ears when I couldn’t drag my needy self off the floor that breathed life.  That spoke it to be well.  Right then and there.  In the middle of the mess.

The words today feel like a victory chant.

Like a standing stone.

Because, friends, our God is faithful.

Not just because Little One is asleep in the other room right now, all arms and legs and outside voice and fiery personality.

But because in the days to come, I got to watch love win right in the court house.

Because I got to stand in the sacred space of speaking worth and value into hearts that others dismissed too easily.  And some days I still do.

Because when I didn’t have the strength to drag myself off the floor and singing it is well made me feel like a hypocrite, it left no question who made beauty start to uncurl from the broken places.

And it sure as anything wasn’t me.

And so, today, I sing with gusto.  Knowing that there will be other days when I collapse under the weight of what feels impossibly hard.

But still it is true.  Still it is well.

Because, friends, our God is faithful.