It is 2:16 a.m. I've been awake since a little after 1, laid there with Miss Tork on my chest until I had to get up. Laying in the dark can be scary. Well not totally in the dark as light comes in the front window through a bit of stained glass, plus I have the electric rose bush turned on and that sheds a nice reddish glow into the space.
It is always in the wee hours of the morning that things can assail you. They come crashing on you with a heaviness that can't be denied. Your mind and heart race. I wanted to get up to come out here and read the piece I found about trusting in God. It makes me want to weep from something so profound that I don't even know how to describe it. This is a new place for me.
So many comments have been left in my other blog and in this one too about how strong I am, but I am not. I am weak, afraid, and feeling desolate. Any strength that I have is from God, the author and finisher of my faith.
Again, here are some bits from this piece by Octavius Winslow:
your concerns are to be entrusted to God
Your care will be his cares;
your concerns will be his concern
your need the occasion of his supply;
and your fears, perils, and dejection, the period of his soothing, protection, and love.
And just at this period of your life, when every object and every scene appears to your view trembling with uncertainty and enshrouded with gloom, God—the widow’s God—speaks in language well calculated to awaken in your soul a song in the night,—“LET THY WIDOWS TRUST IN ME.” O! have faith, then, in this word of the living God, and all will be well with you. It will be well with your person, it will be well with your estate.
God will lighten your cares and cheer the desolateness of your widowhood. Only trust in God.
The sweetest joy may yet spring from your bitter, lonely sorrow; and the richest music may yet awake from your unstrung and silent harp. If a human power and sympathy could “make the widow’s heart to sing for joy,” O! what joy cannot God’s power and love create in that desolate, bleeding, widowed heart of thine. Place it, then, all stricken and lonely as it is, in God’s hands; and, breathing over it his loving Spirit, he will turn its tears, its sighs, its moanings, into the sweetest midnight harmony.
Today is a new day. Let me rejoice and be glad in it. Let me place everything into the hands of the living God.