I stared blankly at the screen following the words of a hymn with my eyes. I couldn’t sing anymore. They were words that my heart didn’t feel. Some say you are supposed to sing anyway, but I am an all or nothing person and if I’m not feeling it, I’m not singing it. Right now, it is not well with my soul and the ancient foe is working his woe. Thoughts of what ifs and whys prevail. Blaming myself, not God, for many things in my life lately.
Yesterday I went through my friend Denise’s stamping items. We always had a fun time making cards. We even managed to make a few together while she was suffering with cancer and enduring chemo. She has been gone over a year now. My hands will hold the rubber stamps she used to make cards that blessed and encouraged others. May I use them in the same way.
I’ve learned through my biblical counseling studies that there are stages of grief: Denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance. I’ve never denied or bargained, but lately I’ve really just wanted to punch something. Mostly because of circumstances that came about because of her death. As if somehow ramming my fist through a wall would make it all better even though I know it won’t.
Last Sunday our scripture reading was Psalm 121:
I lift up my eyes to the hills.
From where does my help come?
My help comes from the Lord,
Who made heaven and earth.
He will not let your foot be moved;
He who keeps you will not slumber.
Behold, He who keeps Israel
Will neither slumber nor sleep.
The Lord is your keeper;
The Lord is the shade on your right hand.
The sun shall not strike you by day,
Nor the moon by night.
The Lord will keep you from all evil;
He will keep your life.
The Lord will keep
Your going out and your coming in
From this time forth and forevermore.
Who is my help? Yes, the Lord almighty. He keeps me. I know that truth in my heart but sometimes I still want to punch something.