The ache in my body was not a welcome prologue to my day, but the story would soon change with the flip of my Kindle’s cover. “I will extol you, O Lord, for you have drawn me up and have not let my foe rejoice over me.“(Psalm 30:1) There are many mornings that are difficult … Continue reading The Author
The ache in my body was not a welcome prologue to my day, but the story would soon change with the flip of my Kindle’s cover.
“I will extol you, O Lord, for you have drawn me up and have not let my foe rejoice over me.“
(Psalm 30:1)
There are many mornings that are difficult because of the pain. It is of no help. Actually, it is a hinderance to me as I try to get out of bed. It is a stumbling block. It is the foe that strives to keep me down and down on myself. And sometimes I just want to give in and give up, wallowing in self-pity. The pain becomes an unwelcome companion who tries to write my story.
But somewhere deep within, I recognize the lie, the deception. Through the darkness, I see a faint glimmer of hope, a glimmer that becomes a steady beam and, eventually, a blazing light. It is a light that reveals the lie that was written into my prologue. And the Light is what flips my script and reveals the Author of my true story.
Yes, my prologue is one of pain and suffering, brought on by my own rebellion and thus justly deserved. The lie is that there is no hope, but the story that has been written draws me up from the pit. It is one that brings healing to my pain. It is a story that can not and would not be written by any other author for no other author loves me like the Author.
My foe tries to rejoice over me through my pain, but he can not erase or even alter my story in the least, for the story belongs to my Father in heaven, the Author. And so, I will extol Him for I am lost without my Savior, the one who raises me up from my painful prologue and places me in His everlasting story.
