“Life will always seem unfair when we measure it by earthly standards of health, wealth and power. But when we encounter God in a personal, intimate way…we can gain a heavenly perspective. We’ll begin to see the other part of the picture—that the rewards of this life are temporary and, as a matter of fact, can even hinder us from discovering what is truly important.” (Philip Yancey & Tim Stafford)
Photo Credit: Free photo: Clearwater Villa Ocean View – Free Image on Pixabay …
there will come a time
when the storm will pass
the clouds will break
and the sun will shine
but for a moment
sorrows last
soon you’ll embrace
the joy you find
there will come a time
when the fire dies
the smoke will clear
you’ll breathe once more
and from the ashes
you will rise
each loss to forge
an open door
there will come a time
when the mountain’s scaled
the conquered valley
now in view
and though you’ve stumbled
fallen, failed
your strength
will finally be renewed
there will come a time
when wars will cease
the endless, raging battle
won
a healing song
will be released
and through it
you’ll have overcome
there will come a time
when fear is gone
tears, sorrow, pain
will be no more
from burdened lives
we will move on
through heaven’s waiting
open door
Photo Credit: Full double rainbow.jpg – Wikimedia Commons
Even the ones I love most deeply here on earth will fail me. There are times when they won’t hear me, or see me, or know what’s going on inside of me. And I will fail them in the same way. But my savior has carved me on the palms of his hands, scars from the nails which held him to the cross.
Photo Credit: holding hands | “…holding hands with her dad as though she w… | Flickr
Have you ever felt invisible? I have. At least once a day. Often more times than I can count in one day. Completely and utterly invisible.
It happens in my classroom. I say something with what I believe is enough volume for the entire room to hear, but my students continue in their routine as if I’d said nothing at all. The other day one of my preschoolers seemed excessively absorbed in her activity and oblivious to me calling to her, “Sweetie, do you even hear me? I’ve said your name at least seven times.” “No, teacher,” she replied. “You only said it three times. I’ve been counting.”
It’s no different at home, with my kids. Time and again, I make a request to my son or daughter while they’re engrossed in play, unaware of my invisible plight. One time I asked my son why he wasn’t listening, and he told me, “Wait a minute, Mommy. I can’t hear you. Let me get these fruit snacks out of my ears.”
There have been times when I’m pouring out my heart to my sweet husband and he turns up the radio to hear the sports score. And times when I’ve shared an entire story at a family gathering only to find no one was listening. Or times when I’m in the store waiting for help and the clerk walks right past me to the person across the aisle.
It’s one thing to feel invisible, another to feel forgotten. I remember years ago, desiring children while others years younger than me had more kids than they could handle. And after, going through the long, lonely, and painful adoption process…twice. Even today, my heart now filled full with the joy of motherhood, I find myself waiting in new ways, for different things—sometimes tempted to think I’ve been forgotten.
What carries me in the midst is the reminder that I’m not invisible or forgotten before my father in heaven. Even the ones I love most deeply here on earth will fail me. There are times when they won’t hear me, or see me, or know what’s going on inside of me. And I will fail them in the same way. But my savior has carved me on the palms of his hands, scars from the nails which held him to the cross.
He knew me before the beginning and he will carry me through to the end. Not a tear goes uncollected, not a prayer goes unheard, no matter how long I wait in the in-between, or no matter that the answer may be no or not now. He always hears and ever answers, even when it’s not the answer I desire or expect, I know I’m not forgotten.
If you feel forgotten, know that there is a God whose name is El Roi, “the God who sees me.” When no one else sees. When no one else cares to see. His eyes invade our hearts with light powerful enough to split the darkness and birth new life. Knowing we are seen, knowing we are heard…knowing we are KNOWN is reason enough to live.
Comic Credit: Bill Watterson, Calvin and Hobbes
Photo Credit: Alone, Man – Free images on Pixabay
What is this load that you carry?
I see you are weary –
Life weighs you down
What is this burden you bear?
You’ve no one to share
Your unspoken prayers, your secret fears
Your hidden tears
What is this sorrow that lies
Behind downcast eyes
Would you be surprised to realize
That someone has seen
And heard
And known
Your heart?
Before God your heart is laid bare
And this I declare
That before the foundations of the world
He knew –
Proclaimed that you would need a Savior
And He alone could provide
He alone would decide
To suffer, to die – and yet to rise
Because you were His pearl of great price
Do you not know? Have you not heard?
It is finished
Your debt paid in full
It is finished
Your sins are no more
It is finished
Lay that burden down
Wear His joy for your crown
It is finished
Your Savior has come
The only One
Who owns the key
Who is the Door
To freedom
(Originally posted by Jen on FaithWriters, Helium Network, & the Nightlight Blog)
If we’re not prepared for the battles that come, we will falter when they do. But if we’re in it for the fight, we’ll endure through the fight.
Photo Credit: File:A lone Soldier walks through a fog of sand DVIDS10400.jpg …
This Life & Beyond 
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