I live in this place in between knowing Why or How; between Black and White; between Then, Now and Not Yet.
And I read these words today, at the prompting of a dear friend, and they, too, leap out from a place in between two worlds:
"For we do not want you to be ignorant, brethren, of our trouble which came to us in Asia: that we were burdened beyond measure,
so that we despaired even of life.
Yes, we had the sentence of death in ourselves,
that we should not trust in ourselves but in God who raises the dead."
~ 2 Corinthians 1:8-9
I live here, too.
Burdened beyond measure, above strength, and honestly? Some days despairing even of life in a quiet, hidden way.
And it's here, in these ancient words, in this place between life and death, a flicker of light shines through the cracks of my faith.
That we should not trust in ourselves but in God who raises the dead.
The dead of our hearts. The dead of our circumstances. The dead of our dreams, of our relationships, of our health, of our hopes.
Here, in this in between, I reach the end of myself and I wait, in growing hope, for the God who raises the dead. And here, I awe.
He will come to you; he will come to me.
He will come and raise the dead.
Joining Lisa Jo today and the Five Minute Friday writers. This post, again, is hardly the product of five minutes, but I love the prompt today.