On my own

What it means to be on my own.

It is finally coming into view. The years of drought are coming to a close as I watch the clouds of reality come forward in slow, billowing lessons each day. The sprinkling I see in the distance I know will turn into deep, torrential, swift, flood-like waters, and I am grateful for the distance, and itching to have it be here.

My eyes have grown dim with grief; my whole frame is but a shadow.

...
Nevertheless, the righteous will hold to their ways, and those with clean hands will grow stronger.

Job 17 holds much comfort in a time like this, as the rhythms of the world rush too far past me and my barren uterus cries for blood. I am feeling the depth of sorrow of a body unkept, leashed and held in place by lashes and painful cuts. Jesus is my stronghold and His pain is more than I could ever bear, and it feels as if this pain is never-ending. I am alone in my lost. And yet, here it is in Job, as he cries out that he is emptied by the pain and loss, he even speaks of the righteous holding their ways and the innocent being roused against evil because of his misfortune.

I am learning what it means to live...for God...on my own...with His blessing.