He is Mighty

**Disclaimer: This piece was written pre-deconstruction of religious beliefs and faith system. Many of these beliefs inform the sentiments of the writing and are not in alignment with my values. As this is a part of my journey and an extensive blog over years, I have chosen not to remove a majority of my posts written on faith. Please as a reader, take this into consideration and take what works for you, leave what does not. I also apologize for any harm my words from this past perspective may cause to any readers.**

Today, I woke up angry and hurt. I hated the silence. I hated that even though we broke up for what seem like good reasons, they also seem like crap ones. It was the first thought in my head yet again, as it seems it has been for weeks now: I hate this.

Last night I'd been mulling over and writing about how I feel like I'm settling into it; starting to come to terms with this reality. After sleeping on that, I woke up mad. I silently moved through our kitchen, my roommates and another good friend there, going about their morning. It's awkward feeling discontented and out of sorts, when everyone else is moving about in life... On to the office for Wednesday morning staff prayer and devotional time.

There was a turn. It seems that today God wanted to remind me that He is mighty.

I walked into work, and on my desk was a little card with a chocolate heart attached:

It warmed mine, it's a favorite verse in my family (my dad's personal anchor, which I'm also letting become one of mine).

We prayed together over many things as a staff, and then delved into a bible passage, 1 Corinthians 1:20-25. It talks about how the Jews and the Greeks have the different things they'd trust in, but that the Christians were preaching neither of those things -- rather the power of the Cross. The section embodies how it's not our doing, it's not our planning or catering to a certain school of thought. It is simple but mighty Truth: Christ crucified. As we discussed the passage, we collectively arrived at that place; it's not about us and what we do, but simply about Him and His Spirit at work! What relief there is in that, it nearly brought me to tears.

Right now, I'm struggling because there is nothing I can do. I am stuck wading through persistent, taunting, confusing pain; a shift in my daily reality. I saw things that needed to change, and perceived the way that if those things shifted, then everything would be good. I had true hope for all of that, hope I thought was founded. Now I am challenged; forced not to put my hope in those ideas because the exact opposite of what I wanted seems to be happening.

This morning brought a quiet, peace-bearing reminder that He is mighty and His Spirit is at work in powerful ways. I have to trust in His character, not my perceptions even if they are of an accurate reality, and even if that reality looks hopeless. Neither my plans nor my unbelief diminish the power of Christ on the cross and that Spirit at work.

I don't write this to say I've arrived at that place of steady comfort, but to say that He is speaking. He is whispering to me amidst the noise of my circumstance, the deafening silence between my friend and I. God is teaching me something - gently, quietly, even subtly. I can only revel in each whisper as it sustains me.