Courage
I wear courage around my neck. Literally. It is the word that kept whispering to my soul struggling for air. As I stepped into 2018, I chose to cling to that word and its infinite meaning.
People keep telling me that I am strong. I don't see it or feel it. On the contrary, I feel broken, weak, scared. I feel like some days I come sliding into bed with grit determination, skinned knees and a bruised soul. I am weary.
This battle I am in, well sometimes it feels like I have broken armor that I'm trying to fight with. And maybe I do. My faith is weak and I"m not wearing the Armor of God with courage, with confidence.
When I think courage, I think brave, strong, valiant, hopeful, trusting. But, according to dictionary.com courage is: "the quality of mind or spirit that enables a person to face difficulty, danger, pain, etc., without fear, bravery". And therin lies my issue....without fear. I'm scared of the future, of what lies ahead for my husband and this diagnosis. Of how the kids will handle it, how I will handle it. Right now I only handle it with tears. I've tried to be strong but this past Sunday I broke down. I cried in the arms of my husband. I'm scared. I'm angry. I'm questioning God.....even as I sit in church.
This past Sunday we sang songs that spoke of God's goodness, His faithfulness.
And I couldn't sing. I could not open my mouth to utter those words because I was angry and asking Him why. This doesn't sound like courage. Yes, I've seen God move mountains. I've experienced mountains moved in my life. But I am struggling with this mountain. A mountain of uncertainty in a diagnosis that no one understands.
I took a drive and played "Good, Good Father" over and over and over again in an attempt to believe the words. Even now, I'm currently playing worship songs in hopes that they reach my weary soul. How is this courage? I don't know. Maybe that's why this is my word for the year. I need it. I need to find bravery in the unknown. But how do I do this?
And God answers....through music. Because He knows it reaches the depths of my heart and mind. Music speaks to the weariness within.
He's asking me to thank Him even when the pain is deep. Even when I cry out in anger, I thank Him. And in this, He will come and meet me. So maybe, just maybe, for me courage means speaking thankfulness in the pain, in the anger. Courage means playing worship music. Courage means waking up and taking the day to Him, telling Him my worries, fears and just resting. Courage means letting Him take what's deep inside and finding trust in that. And hopefully one day I can sing with the worship team the words "This is my confidence, You have never failed me yet".
People keep telling me that I am strong. I don't see it or feel it. On the contrary, I feel broken, weak, scared. I feel like some days I come sliding into bed with grit determination, skinned knees and a bruised soul. I am weary.
This battle I am in, well sometimes it feels like I have broken armor that I'm trying to fight with. And maybe I do. My faith is weak and I"m not wearing the Armor of God with courage, with confidence.
When I think courage, I think brave, strong, valiant, hopeful, trusting. But, according to dictionary.com courage is: "the quality of mind or spirit that enables a person to face difficulty, danger, pain, etc., without fear, bravery". And therin lies my issue....without fear. I'm scared of the future, of what lies ahead for my husband and this diagnosis. Of how the kids will handle it, how I will handle it. Right now I only handle it with tears. I've tried to be strong but this past Sunday I broke down. I cried in the arms of my husband. I'm scared. I'm angry. I'm questioning God.....even as I sit in church.
This past Sunday we sang songs that spoke of God's goodness, His faithfulness.
"Walking around these walls
I thought by now they'd fall
But You have never failed me yet
Waiting for change to come
Knowing the battle's won
For You have never failed me yet
Your promise still stands
Great is Your faithfulness, faithfulness
I'm still in Your hands
This is my confidence, You've never failed me yet
I thought by now they'd fall
But You have never failed me yet
Waiting for change to come
Knowing the battle's won
For You have never failed me yet
Your promise still stands
Great is Your faithfulness, faithfulness
I'm still in Your hands
This is my confidence, You've never failed me yet
You made a way, where there was no way
And I believe, I'll see You do it again"
And I believe, I'll see You do it again"
Do It Again ~ Elevation Worship
And I couldn't sing. I could not open my mouth to utter those words because I was angry and asking Him why. This doesn't sound like courage. Yes, I've seen God move mountains. I've experienced mountains moved in my life. But I am struggling with this mountain. A mountain of uncertainty in a diagnosis that no one understands.
I took a drive and played "Good, Good Father" over and over and over again in an attempt to believe the words. Even now, I'm currently playing worship songs in hopes that they reach my weary soul. How is this courage? I don't know. Maybe that's why this is my word for the year. I need it. I need to find bravery in the unknown. But how do I do this?
And God answers....through music. Because He knows it reaches the depths of my heart and mind. Music speaks to the weariness within.
"It's not the news that any of us hoped that we would hear
It's not the road we would have chosen, no
The only thing that we can see is darkness up ahead
But You're asking us to lay our worry down and sing a song instead
It's not the road we would have chosen, no
The only thing that we can see is darkness up ahead
But You're asking us to lay our worry down and sing a song instead
And I didn't know I'd find You here
In the middle of my deepest fear, but
You are drawing near
You are overwhelming me, with peace
So I'll lift my voice and sing
You're gonna carry us through everything
You are drawing near
You're overwhelming all my fears, with peace
In the middle of my deepest fear, but
You are drawing near
You are overwhelming me, with peace
So I'll lift my voice and sing
You're gonna carry us through everything
You are drawing near
You're overwhelming all my fears, with peace
You say that I should come to You with everything I need
You're asking me to thank You even when the pain is deep
You promise that You'll come and meet us on the road ahead
And no matter what the fear says, You give me a reason to be glad
You're asking me to thank You even when the pain is deep
You promise that You'll come and meet us on the road ahead
And no matter what the fear says, You give me a reason to be glad
Here in the middle of the lonely night
Here in the middle of the losing fight, You're
Here in the middle of the deep regret
Here when the healing hasn't happened yet
Here in the middle of the desert place
Here in the middle when I cannot see Your face
Here in the middle with Your outstretched arms
You can see my pain and it breaks Your heart
Here in the middle of the losing fight, You're
Here in the middle of the deep regret
Here when the healing hasn't happened yet
Here in the middle of the desert place
Here in the middle when I cannot see Your face
Here in the middle with Your outstretched arms
You can see my pain and it breaks Your heart
Find You Here ~ Ellie Holcomb
He's asking me to thank Him even when the pain is deep. Even when I cry out in anger, I thank Him. And in this, He will come and meet me. So maybe, just maybe, for me courage means speaking thankfulness in the pain, in the anger. Courage means playing worship music. Courage means waking up and taking the day to Him, telling Him my worries, fears and just resting. Courage means letting Him take what's deep inside and finding trust in that. And hopefully one day I can sing with the worship team the words "This is my confidence, You have never failed me yet".
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