When God Keeps His Promises

I was sitting in a kitchen I had been in a thousand times before. A kitchen in which I’ve laughed so hard I cried, a kitchen in which I’ve yelled and endured yelling, a kitchen in which I shared meals and blueberry crumble with people I loved. The blue curtains were letting in perfect sunlight as I watched her freckled hands slice a green pepper as she spoke. The glide of the knife moving in rhythm with her words. Her movements were graceful and methodic, but the story she was telling was beautiful. It was a story of redemption and resurrection and grace, a combination that can give you goosebumps. She moved her long hair away from her face as she told me about the very real ways that God has led her out of a wilderness. She had been like a small sparrow unable to break through the canopy, seeing rays of light but not the fullness. Now she was basking in the light of her Father and she was radiant. People seem lighter when they’re so entangled in their Heavenly Father. There’s no mistaking it. She shone in a way that only those who know how deeply they are loved by Christ can shine.

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She had read through some of her old journals earlier that day and she said that all she could do was cry. Old journals are the most raw of biographies; they sit stately on the shelf, with worn pages pressed together carrying secrets and heart break and memories that had to be remembered. Journals hold all the questions that couldn’t be answered and authenticity we are afraid to show people we love. Sometimes journal pages are love letters to God, sometimes they demand His response. For those who put pen to paper, a journal is a piece of their heart. Journals can be time machines filled with old wounds. Journals are proof that God does what He says He will do. My precious friend recalled the very deep things she had felt and cried the tears of a loved daughter when she realized how God had led her away from the deep and dark wilderness.

He said, “These are the things that I do, I will not forsake them.”

Isn’t God so big when you’re hearing things like that? He doesn’t even fit in the room with you – He’s positively overwhelming. No matter how often it’s easy to not notice His presence, I feel it is impossible to not see his calloused hands working alongside yours when someone is speaking of redemption. It’s an honor to hear these stories, to be trusted with truth and vulnerability. Oh God of second chances and new beginnings, I pray for a million more afternoons like this one. A million more stories of praise, a million more faces to look upon with love, a million more interactions with a God who doesn’t leave us in the wilderness.

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