For some time now, I have watched the horizon, anticipating clear skies and brighter days. There have been days, even months, of partial clearing, giving some hope that relief was in sight. However, just when I begin to breathe a sigh of relief, the storms begin again. I'm knocked back down to the ground, trying as hard as I know to fight my way back to my feet.
"Lord, save me!" I cry for the umpteenth time, but I am ready to give up hope. "I feel as though I am about to break!" is the cry of my heart. Yet almost as soon as it finds voice, I hear a stronger and louder one thunder through the depths of my being.
"A bruised reed he will not break," and I run to my Bible to find the reference. "and a smoldering wick he will not snuff out." In Isaiah 42 I read on of the salvation of the righteous God, who will cause His people to rejoice as He is glorified in His mighty triumph over sin. Verses 14-17 breathe new hope into my heart as I read, "For a long time I have kept silent, I have been quiet and held myself back. But now..." and then come all the "I will's," outlining God's mighty acts on behalf of His people, which end in a crescendo in verse 16, "I will turn the darkness into light before them and make the rough places smooth."
With the Psalmist I cry again, "Why are you downcast, oh my soul, why so disturbed within me? Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my Savior and my God."
Once again, the clear skies are the ones in my heart, not the ones over my head.
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