The last post finished with me telling God that I needed Him to show up. I needed to know that I was loved, liked and understood. I needed real. I needed visible. My knowledge of the truth of ‘God loves me’ needed to move from a head knowledge to knowing in the depth of my being that I was loved.
In my relationship with the other I had felt known, understood and loved. That was what had pulled me in. Whether reality or just my perception, I didn’t at that time feel that in my marriage. So I was wanting God to show me that He loved me. All of me. The contradictions and the character flaws. The passions and the peculiarities.
I was prepared to wait.
I didn’t have to wait long. Less than two weeks after I’d written about surviving and waiting for God to show up He did. In a more extraordinary way than I could have expected.
I had chosen the word Hope for the year . On a very bleak morning I walked my dog in the rain, crying as I walked. I wrote:
“My word for the year is Hope. I’m holding on to it with my head today, but my heart has quite different ideas. I am feeling sad and hurt and angry and hopeless; and frustrated that I am feeling sad and hurt and angry and hopeless.”
I returned home and didn’t know what to do next. I started to wonder what other people did in these situations. I thought of people in the bible who stuffed up and had hard times and didn’t know what to do. David always comes to my mind when I think of failing humans who God loved. I wondered if he re-read the Psalms he’d written on days when he felt hopeful? I looked for things to encourage myself with. I found a photo of grains of sand under a microscope and was struck by the thought that the God who created and knew about individual grains of sand, knew me. I wrote this:
” if my Hope is not linked to people, or circumstances but to this God, then I will make it through another day.”
A few hours later I checked the post and I’d received a parcel from the other side of the world. I opened it and this is what I found….. a necklace with the word Hope on it and this note.
‘You don’t know me. I’m simply a messenger with a gift. Take heart, dear sister. The Lord is near to the broken hearted. He heals them and binds up their wounds. Love hopes always. A fellow sojourner in Christ.’
I stood with a smile on my face and tears pouring down my face. It had been posted 11 days previously on the other side of the world, by someone who didn’t even know me. It had arrived on the lowest morning I’d experienced in a few weeks. I texted a friend and she suggested I go outside to see if ‘I love you, love God’ was spray painted on the front wall of my house. I was overwhelmed. I received Hope to hold in my hand. To wear round my neck every day. God used a sister in Christ to show me how much I was known and loved and understood. Gifts are my love language. She didn’t know that. God did.
Lights in the darkness.