The Spirit of the Lord is on me, because he has anointed me to preach good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim freedom for the prisoners and recovery of sight for the blind, to release the oppressed, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.
Luke 4:18-19
The thunder rolled.
And so it goes . . .
Near-perfect stretch of summer days followed by overcast. And then, clouds moved fast last night. Broke wide open and spilled out onto cut fields the farmer couldn’t get baled fast enough. Been drying for days, that hay . . .
Now?
We must wait.
Again.
For God to dry, to cure.
As a woman growing feed for her horses, I feel at the mercy of the heavens and the God who created and sustains. Yet I still wonder . . .
Will the grasses rot right there on our field? Will they get a reprieve from the rain?
Or will that Great Lake within sight of us breathe its mist over us today? And tomorrow?
Will the field EVER be ready?
Will the farmer become impatient and bale anyway, knowing wet grass molds and might spontaneously combust burning the whole . . . barn . . . down?
How my life parallels the field, all the unpredictable!
So many unknowns. Can make a man, or a woman, plain crazy fearful!
So I stick with the knowns.
I believe in a personal God, in a God who sees and cares and intervenes, always for good.
On a morning when I wake to see a bruised sky, when I feel my bruised soul, I scan and see a breakthrough of light. Hope to hold with my eyes, for myself and others.
All might seem dark in this moment—all black and blue bleeding to purple—the bruises of the unseen heart and soul so long ago afflicted.
But I believe in a great God who sees us—who sees me—and you—and all he created in his image and loves too much to leave in our broken and bruised mess.
I believe there’s light coming to swallow all darkness.
I believe Jesus overcame death.
I believe he’s seated at the right hand of the Father.
I believe the Holy Spirit is still here on Earth, as close as our next breath, our next heartbeat.
Yes, this Jesus, MY Jesus, YOUR Jesus . . .
When thoughts taunt, even when they stab?
Call Jesus.
Call on the One who pours Himself out and over and heals all our wounds.
There’s power in His blood, shed for me, for you.
There’s power there to heal broken and bruised.
There’s power to heal all fear.
Because Jesus is perfect LOVE that casts out—all—fear.
And so, this Independence Day coming up?
Might we look up and out and in? Might we ask the most important question of all?
Jesus, will you come into MY heart and set ME free from all that binds ME?
One simple, humble prayer to start the world spinning in an opposite, healing direction?
He will come, if asked.
He promised.
And he will set us free . . .
Again.
And again.
Will we ask Him?
Will we let Him?
Oh, how I pray! For me and for you. For the whole world.
Oh, how we need INDEPENDENCE from ALL chains that bind!
