My strength is weakened by my lack of faith after a culmination of unsettling circumstances permeated my foundation. I feel wounded. I feel scared. I crash like the unsupported Jenga blocks that were stacked diligently on my table.
I detach from hope.
He is tapping me on the shoulder to let me know that all I need to do is to be still, and to listen. He reassures me that He is making a way even though I cannot see the unfolding miracle. He reminds me to “Look up, Child” as I write about in Chapter 1 of my book Write Pray Recover.
I remind myself of His faithfulness. I remind myself that He pulled me from the grave 10 years ago, and suddenly, I rise up. I shake it off. I remember that He has always pulled me through with hundreds of tiny miracles along the way.
I grab onto His promises that He has a plan, and that I am always loved in the heart of God. I am always protected by the hand of God.
I begin to rebuild the fallen blocks, one at a time, and with each purposeful placement of another, I begin to see the whole picture.
I am safe.
I hear Him say, “Look Up Child.”