Casting Our Cares

My cares have gained weight this week. Pulling me down and draining me.

In previous weeks, the pain ebbed and flowed, but this week it washed in and continued a slow rise like a river cresting its banks during a flood.

At times I felt like I was barely treading water with concrete blocks strapped to my feet. Where was the ship that had kept me afloat this past month? That ship of faith.

I'd pushed it away, instead focusing on activity, busyness—the doing part of life that kept my mind occupied and my body moving.

But like a flood, grief won't be contained. It doesn't have anywhere to go if we dam it up. It just keeps rising until we can't hold it back.

The dam breaks and out it comes in a rushing torrent, sweeping you along, drowning you with pain.

But the torrent doesn't last once the pressure subsides. Grief spends itself and leaves you hollowed out.

Today I reached for God's hand, desperate for His comfort. Allowing Him to fill the hollow places and renew my bruised soul.

Joy comes in glimpses, flashes of sunlight on a winter day that wink between the yellow leaves and hide behind the dark clouds.

God weaves the joy with the sorrow, the memories with the missing. He blends the colors of our life into a rich tapestry that holds as many tears as laughter.

Our sorrow becomes a blanket of comfort and understanding that He can drape around another's weary shoulders. We can be His arms, His shoulder, His cradling lap to those that need His touch but are too burdened to find Him.

None of our pain is wasted. Every tear is collected, every burden sifted through His fingers.

With Him there is comfort.