There’s something about going through life that’s beautiful. There is what we as finite beings term as beautiful: symphonies, thunderstorms, roses, waterfalls, true love, sleep, sushi, fireflies. But what about what God terms as beautiful? Broken hearts, refining fire, endurance beyond pain, tears. Why do I look at that list and cringe? When God takes away the things I held dear and puts me through a dry season, why do I have a hard terming that as ‘good’? Why is there a disconnect? Doesn’t God promise to give ‘good’ things? Looking at life, it rots. I live in a sin-crusted world where our definite of ‘good’ is what will bring me temporary happiness. Absolutely nothing wrong with being happy. But what happens when I don’t get that? Do I say God isn’t giving His child ‘good’ things? I desire ‘good’ things. Are they the ‘best’ things? That is for God to decide. That is the paradox in my heart. Is it wrong to desire ‘good’ things and even ‘excellent’ things? Clearly not. But what happens when God does not deem them the ‘best’ things? Do I deny His goodness when He withholds a ‘good’ thing? Or is it that my view of a ‘good’ thing is skewed? All I know is that God is good. Anything compared to Him is mediocre. Do I, then, continue to pursue good and excellent things when all I need is in Him? I am learning that maybe, just maybe, my view of ‘good’ is struggling. The taking away and dry season is good. Not getting the job I want and think I need is good. Not seeing God say yes or even just say wait is good. God seeming to say yes, then say no is good. God is making me beautiful. I am a beautiful mess. Letting go, breaking, denying selfishness. All insanely hard. I don’t want to. I don’t want to let go, break, deny my selfishness. Yet, I do. I want to with all of my soul, but not all of my flesh. “The spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak.” My weakness threatens spiritual depression. Dents in my armor. Searching for spiritual Zoloft. What am I to do? “Take heart.” Take heart? “I have overcome the world.” What does this mean? “Where were you when I laid the foundation of the world?” Well, I mean, I felt like I needed to fix this. "Have you commanded the morning since your days began, and caused the dawn to know its place?”
Stop. Think. Gaze.
Beautiful.
This life isn’t my own. Not devised by my own hands. It’s a flash. Gone in a blink.
Beautiful.
Fashioned by a huge God Who fashioned this huge world.
Beautiful.
Take heart.
It’s all beautiful.