And still, like dust, we rise.

Those six words have been ringing in my head all day as I am astounded, yet again, as we rise from the ashes.
How amazing is the Lord? I mean, like seriously, how freakin' amazing.

This thought hit me as I realized I had been given new life yet again, after trying to sleep for a few hours this morning, realizing by 8 am when I had to call to see if I could move back my MRI to later this afternoon, that I had been up for more than 24 hours. After getting up from a deep sleep and sitting outside on the porch just in awe again of the stillness and peace of everything around me, it felt like the world was standing still.

My soul and my eyes were all wrung dry, all out of tears, yet I was surprised that in that stillness, I felt my heart still had more tears it wanted to shed.

They did not come, but what did was a time of just rest and renewal there in those moments where God met me again and where I began to speak about and process the highway of ideas, thoughts and emotions running through my head at break-neck speed.

Yet, as my beloved Maya Angelou says,
“Still, like dust, we rise.”

In a totally and completely different sense than from the actual physical death I was speaking of and grieving yesterday, on my way to my appointment today, there was this spirit that took over me, that had come to restore me and give me life again, strength, energy, hope.

I realized, in a completely different type of death than from what I was speaking of yesterday, these words that I had heard long ago, yet will never forget,

“After every death, there is a resurrection.”

I have found those words to be true more times than I could even begin to recount here, which is why there are so many days I just have to write. Because there is something that in and every death and resurrection that happens to me that sends me reeling because I know it did not come from me or anyone else but my Jehovah.

There is a new hope, a new strength, a new peace that comes from being delivered once again.

I realized last week as I was pondering why certain psalms have spoken to me so much lately, about being rescued and delivered, the thought hit me as I was jotting down a verse on a note card that I know I have written at least five other times before, yet I realized, I need saving, delivered, rescued EVERY DAY.

In a totally and utterly completely different sense than ever before. I am in a position where I have to depend on Him and Him alone to sustain me. To save. To deliver. To help.

I am reminded each and every moment of each and every day of my desperate and incessant need for a Savior. And for that alone, I say amen.

I'm also reminded that our God is a God who SAVES.

Not just once. Not just a few times, but daily, hourly, minute to minute, He extends the glorious riches of His loving, saving grace.

Amen.

“Even tho he slay me, still I will trust in Him. I will rejoice in God, my Savior,”

we hear Job cry as each of us, you and me, our loved ones, our friends... that regardless of whatever any of us are currently facing, in our pain we say, “me too.”

This cross that I hate, this brutally cruel instrument and journey that crucifies me again and again, alone having the power to continue to break me, yet also the power to free and transform me.

This cross that I detest, this cross that I do cling.

This cross that I resist and embrace.

This cross that raises me from death, over and over again, to new life.

Love this quote Kate shared with me the other day from John Piper, as it captures so much of what I have felt so many times in this and written so many times.

I have realized in this consistent act of God's rescuing, saving, and delivering in my life and the ways I have seen and experienced Him in ways like never before the longer I continue to walk through these circumstances, that the reason why I must write is simply the number of times I just want to shout from the rooftops how good and how incredible He truly is.

There are so many verses that I post from time to time that have become more than just mere words, but words that have breathed life into me, given me hope, strength, perspective, given me all I would need to persevere and find joy, life, peace in Him in the gift of a new day.

This is why more than writing about what is happening, I choose to share on here what I am experiencing and learning and processing through whatever is happening. I choose to use this place as a place where I can write about and process the journey, not just the events or the facts or the rundown on what is going on.

So, for this reason, and all that this quote speaks of, I write because it is simply one of the ways my heart can express all that I feel and find myself overwhelmed by gratitude again and again, like today. Gratitude of the One who alone has the power to save, wake the dead, heal the sick, give sight to the blind, and make a path for His people to walk in the midst of a sea, on dry land.

“When we become spiritually aware that we are spiritually alive, we know someone has already raised us from the dead. And it wasn't us.”

:: John Piper

Umm, yeah. I think that calls for another big, A-men.

-- CONTINUED IN... oh listen to the sound of hope that's rising, up over your old horizon --