Some of ou have been blessed by prayers I have shared. It is a mini stream in these blogs which will probably come to an end, but for the time being here is part of another…
“However slowly, I have come to see it, Father. Little things, little me, the little things of your little children, matter to the bigger story. You showed the Emmaus Road walkers that. The story of their sadness, did not matter to the world. Nothing stopped. The affairs of men did not alter. Rarely does anything stop to mourn our losses with us in a way that touches our pain. What distorted message such ignoring can give us about our worth, our mattering. Thank you that you take the disregarded stories and make them part of the story of your living enduring bright flame which darkness has never overcome or understood; the story of Him who has life in Himself, taking all things somewhere, even the nothings that have nowhere to go. You call these Emmaus Road mourning moments upwards, along with planets and stars into the transforming onward march of your glorious purposes which move from eternity through time to eternity.
Our sufferings find their setting in the victory of Christ, the story which rings with triumph. In theses current times stones often seem so immovable. Thank you, You have made us part of the story of the stone rolled away, its crushing weight no longer able to contain to control or imprison as a malevolent mind had purposed it should.
Father, my suffering, though at times I scarcely think it worth mentioning, matters to you and matters to the fullness of the story of Your Christ. It links me too, to the story of all humanity, to the lost world You loved when you sent forth its Lover and its Rescuer here among us. It links me to the cry I hear in the eyes of cows, in Polar bears exhausted by warm sea swims. I am one with man and beast and one with all who hope in your redeeming might: one with all which cry, bleat, chirp, croak howl and roar, “Come Lord Jesus.” These all look to you, cry to you, and so do I!