What Now? You’ve survived the unthinkable, an act so devastating, so devious, and so far-reaching that you’d never entertained the thought or possibility that such a thing could happen to you. You’ve tried your best to shield yourself from the truth, to run from what is inescapable. You’ve closed the door on reality, and any path that may have taken you there. Yet, the truth is the truth and the truth is the light, as you’ve heard people say as long as you can remember. “The truth is the light, Baby,” your grandmother used to pronounce. You didn’t understand it then; you don’t understand it now, nor do you care. It happened, that you can’t deny. It happened. Now, what? Now you suffer! You can’t even refer to yourself in the first person, singular pronoun “I.” “ I” now identifies herself as “you,” whoever she is. That hurts too bad and you fear that level of pain is unsustainable. There’s no solace in the lyrics, “it hurts so bad.” Mostly, you’re mute. As days go by, with ...
"Surprise! Surprise!"That's what Gomer Pyle would say as an Army recruit when something unexpected seemed suddenly to appear. Usually, his surprises were happy ones. If Gomer Pyle reruns play in your time zone or cable channel, watch them as.they represent a time of innocence long since missing from today's t.v. shows, movies, or sitcoms. So why am I truly surprised when God answers prayer? It's not as if He never answers them. In fact, He responds affirmatively more often than He says "No" or "Not now." He always knows what's best for His children. However, if a supplication seems to be taking too long, I start speculating as if I've prayed the prayer to me , not God. In fact, how often have I prayed to myself (or some other idol) but not to God? I can remember years of making fervent yet self-serving, prayers only to catch myself two minutes later trying to figure out solutions. Had I even waited 120 seconds for His answer?...
I'd been in and out of a fugue state for some time. Questions abounded as uncertainties finger, much less center my mind on a reason. I felt out-of-sorts, what Mother would describe as not "feeling so brown-skinned." I never outright asked her what the description meant because she seemed so certain about her status. After the declaration, typically the rest of her day involved singing a medley of hymns designed to improve her emotional trajectory. I hadn't felt "brown-skinned" for too long. Spirit had sent friends who wondered how I was doing. "I haven't heard from you in a while. Is everything alright? " appeared with a metronomic voice or text messaging frequency. Others sent Scriptures or encouraging emojis to " "Look and live," my brother live, Look to Jesus now and live; Tis recorded in His word, Hallelujah! It is only that you "look and love." Still, I walked around in a funk. neither up nor down; sad ...
Now that's deep🌼
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