Monday, August 30, 2010

My right hand...

I tend to raise my right hand as I am in worship at church, sometimes in my car, sometimes when I just need to reach out to God in the middle of the night.  I raise my right hand, rarely my left.

I did a quick search on of "right hand" and there were over 100 mentions in the Bible.  It seems God's right hand is one of unwavering might and strength, powerful enough to lift us out of the most dire circumstances.

I find myself in such a miry pit.  There are no sides to hold onto.  Even if there were, I don't have the strength to pull myself out.  I'm too far in for my friends and family to reach in, though they would do anything to take my pain away.  They cannot.  No one on this earth can save me.  Not even one. 

So I lift my right hand straight up from the pit.  Fingers spread apart with a sparkle coming from my beautiful wedding bands that I no longer wear on my left hand. 

I reach for God.

I can't always feel Him.
Sometimes I doubt.
Sometimes I just cry and clamor just to make sure He can hear me.
My arm gets tired.
I want to put it down and sink.
I felt that way today, and yesterday, and I'm sure it won't be the last time over this long journey.

Yet, God never lets go.  He never lets go.  So I guess that means I can't sink, though sinking sure would be the easier way out.

Ps. 73:23-26:  "Yet I am always with you; you hold me by my right hand.  You guide me with your counsel, and afterward you will take me into glory.  Whom have I in heaven but you?  And earth has nothing I desire besides you.  My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever."

Dearly loved,

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