You Will See Me Rise

You Will See Me Rise

2016-07-8--23-18-41

You Will See Me Rise

As I sit here in my hotel room on Whitley Bay, Newcastle Upon Tyne, United Kingdom, watching the sun rise over the North Sea, nibbling on some animal crackers I brought with me from the states to quell the rising surge of nausea in my stomach, I feel so loved and understood by God. It is windy outside … and cold. The day is less than perfect. My body is less than perfect. I can hear the seagulls in between the intermittent gurgling of my stomach. I can hear the wind whipping the ice cold waters of the North Sea as I hear my stomach and bowels churning in protest—as if they, too, were being acted upon by some invisible and relentless force like the wind. And yet all of these “problems” and imperfections make it all so perfect somehow. The sunrise is magnificent and all of the nasty elements make it even more so. The sun is rising above it all. And so am I. The clouds will move. The wind will shift. The tides will change. The gulls will fly here and there. Would I dare change any of it? Could I really improve upon the beauty that is all around me, imperfect at it may be?

Turn your face to the wind, my friends. Something is causing it to blow. Turn your face and stare into the blazing sun. Something is causing it to shine. Turn and face your challenges. You can focus on all of the “imperfections” in your life. You can try to rearrange them. But doing so would be like tampering with the majesty of the storm. Doing so would be like re-orchestrating the sunrise—silencing the gulls, calming the winds, moving the clouds. But are you really able to paint a more beautiful picture? Is your way really better? If everything was the way you wanted it, would the picture be any better? Or is it better to embrace the “imperfections” and see the magnificent perfection in it all! For me, I am choosing to embrace the marvelous scene before me. I’m choosing to stand in awe of the marvelous imperfections of life. I’m choosing to see the beauty in the randomness of it all. And, in doing so, I feel so happy, so loved, and so understood by the One who paints upon the canvases of soul and circumstance.

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