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I believe in the sun, even though it doesn't shine.
I believe in love, even when it isn't shown.
I believe in God, even when He doesn't speak.
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Can you imagine a skeletal hand gripping a piece of broken glass or stone, cutting into that wall?
Can you see his eyes squinting in the darkness as he etched each letter?
What kind of hand could cut out such conviction?
Whose eyes could see good in such horror?
The only answer I can find is: eyes that chose to see the Unseen.
2 Corinthians 4:18 says: "We set our eyes not on what we see but on what we cannot see. What we see will last only a short time, but what we cannot see will last forever."
It comes down to personal choice. When tragedy hits us, we too, are given the sacred choice to see what we will: the hurt ... or the Healer.
"Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the Author and Perfecter of our faith, Who for the joy set before Him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider Him Who endured such opposition from sinful men, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart." Hebrews 12:2, 3
Can I say that I always find the Healer instead of focusing on the hurt? No. I can't say that. I am still a weak, faulty human being. And there are too many times that I can count when I have not prayed to the Lord near enough when I should have - and I've paid the price for it. I despair when I make those stupid mistakes and wonder if I can keep going on. But somehow He gets through to me and lets me know that He's there beside me and that everything will be okay - if not now in this life, then in the one to come. And to believe that takes faith also. I thank God for His faithfulness to a forgetful man like me.
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