My heart is broken. I’ve cried, oh how I have cried.
All you have to do is turn on the television, or log into your social media of choice and you can see and read about the consequences of sin and our fallen world.
It makes me ache. I’ve been sick to my stomach. My heart has ached to the point that I thought it would burst with grief. It literally, physically hurts. I couldn’t stop the tears if I tried. I was overcome with fear.
This past week, when I was overcome with fear, I cried out to God. Praying for Him to take that fear away from me. For Him to strengthen my faith, my trust in Him. (“I do believe, help me overcome my unbelief!” Something I find myself quoting fairly often.) I prayed for His precious Holy Spirit to help me recall verses of truth from His holy word to get me through this time. I cried and prayed for those that were hurting more than I. For those grieving far worse than I was. For those in charge. For those hurt. For those persecuted. I prayed. I cried. The Holy Spirit brought verses to my mind to help me fight off the fear… Isaiah 41:10, 1 John 4:7-21, Ephesians 6:10-18, Philippians 4:6-7… Among others.
Two days later I found joy, as I often do, through my precious little girl. We had finished dinner, and were playing a new board game together as a family. We had the blinds to our windows open so we could enjoy the sunset and the birds that frequent the feeders we keep stocked with seeds… It was a pleasant evening. The sky was turning a beautiful pink and our daughter asked if she could step out to see it in person. When she came back in she told us it was sprinkling. As it got dark, it did indeed rain for a few short minutes. The kids asked if we go out side, because they love puddles, so we did. As we stepped outside I was overwhelmed by the smell. It was something I can’t describe, but it was beautiful and wonderful. I asked my children, “Do you smell that? It’s the smell of a summer rain and I love it!” My daughter grabbed me by the hand, looked me in the eyes, and said “No momma, it’s the smell of the glory of God.”
Then she ran off to play with her brother in the wet grass and together they made footprints on our driveway, yet I just stood there. Speechless at the profound comment my daughter, who is just 7, had made. The words I needed to hear. The weight that those words lifted off of me. The peace that passes understanding that embraced me like a lovers hold.
Thank you God, for once again using my children to teach me more about you.
From now on, when I smell that wonderful aroma after a summer rain I will be reminded of The Glory of God.