He Makes All Things Beautiful In Its Time

He makes all things beautiful in its time.  Ecclesiastes 3:11
   
You have turned for me my mourning into dancing; you have loosed my sackcloth and clothed me with gladness.  Psalm 30:11
   
I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world.”  John 16:33


As Christians, we have a most amazing weapon in our arsenal against the battles and wars raging in our lives.  And that is hope.  Jesus told us we would have tribulations in this world, but that He has overcome them.

A friend brought me this heart-shaped souvenir rock from a trip she went on.  My hope always faltering, the rock lives on my desk so that I can see it, pick it up, hold it, remind myself of the hope I have. The stone is cool and polished smooth.  I often trace my fingertips over the letters as if trying to absorb the engraved hope by osmosis into my broken heart.  

It does not take much for the door of my anxiety closet to swing wide open and all the boogeymen to rush out and attack me in weak moments.

Yesterday, it was jealousy, downright sinful envy that washed over me upon receiving a save-the-date card for a friend's daughter's wedding.   The happy couple smile adoringly at each other on the Pinterest-inspired card seem to mock me, and my stomach knots.  The self-flagellation begins as I sternly tell myself that I am beyond happy for my friend and her family at such joy.

But the knot tightens.   I doubt that my son will ever be healed enough to venture forth into the world, find the love of his life and get married.  Bolstering my doubt is his closed bedroom door.  I think I did see him yesterday, after I texted him to remind him to come eat something.

Mentally, I relive the past week.  The Christmas Eve midnight service we went to.  The brief conversation we had where he admitted that he is feeling better after a year and a half of treatment.  He describes his depression and moods as once being like an upside-down mountain range.  There is no up.  Only down and further down.  I imagine a rock-climber clinging to further down trying to climb up higher to simply down.   But now, he explains, it's like right-side up rolling hills.

Much easier to navigate, I had remarked, trying to not press him to go deeper than he is comfortable sharing, and praying fervently that I won't say anything stupid to make him clam up and end our conversation.  His succinct reply darts my heart:  Don't press an analogy too far, mom.

Hubby limps in from work.  He is in severe pain, arthritic knee worsened by cold and damp.  He needs surgery desperately but we can't afford it.  The "economic downturn" was apocalyptic to us.  After losing the job he'd been at for 25 years and bouncing around from job to job for the last five years, he's been at his present job for a year and a half.  Not yet long enough to be out of work for eight weeks during post-op recovery and still have a job.  Not long enough to have made the leap from an hourly employee to a salaried employee and have income during that recovery.

In all this anxiety, a verse pops out of the blue into my mind.  "He makes all things beautiful in its time."  In His time, not mine. 

Discouragement is simply having reached a premature conclusion.

I rub fingertips across my stone.  I can feel hope.