Why We Can Face Our Uncertain Tomorrows

I like my routines. And like everyone else, my routines have been completely disrupted.

Here’s a very minor example. The other day, Lilly was running on the treadmill in the basement right when I wanted to do my morning devotions, also in the basement. It would have been sorta hypocritical for me to get upset at her for disturbing my Bible-reading/prayer-journaling time, so I brought my materials upstairs to the dining-room table and popped open my tablet.

I type my prayers to stay focused. A weekly list helps me not forget anyone I want to pray for regularly, but my daily typing sessions are mostly just stream-of-consciousness, one-sided conversations between me and God.

I hardly ever look back at them, and I rarely share more than a line or two with anyone.

But the words that flowed from my heart that morning at the dining-room table stuck with me all week. I reread them several times and even shared them with Randy a few days later.

So today, after a roller-coaster of a week that has revealed more weak spots in my faith (and my nerves) than I care to admit, it seems appropriate to share them here too. (I resisted the urge to update, elaborate or edit, except to add a few obviously missing words.)

Dear Lord, I praise you because you are worthy to be praised. Despite the calamity in the world, despite the drop in the stock market, despite the cleared calendars and cancelled plans and empty store shelves and health-care crisis—despite all this, you are still seated on your heavenly throne.

I don’t know why you are allowing all this to happen, but you know. When I’m tempted to worry, to fear, to started listing off all the what-ifs, help me to loosen my grip on my plans and projects and security blankets. Help me to pray “not my will, but yours be done.” On earth, as it is in heaven.

You are God alone. None of this is a surprise to you. Somehow, it all fits into your kingdom calendar.

Our calendars have been decimated, Lord. Spring break, Easter, swim meets, school, graduation preparations, everything. And yet time keeps chugging on. Day follows day, and your plans are being fulfilled, even if they don’t make a bit of sense to us.

Before all this happened, I was thinking mostly about missing my parents and wondering what the first anniversaries of their deaths would be like. Now, I’m missing them even more, and feeling sad because Easter will be even MORE different this year if we can’t even go to church.

But not being able to attend church does not eliminate the reason for the season. It doesn’t negate the fact that you rose from the grave, that you conquered death once and for all, that “because you live, we can face tomorrow,” as the song says.

And we can, Lord. We CAN face tomorrow—and today—because you live.

Amen.

Let’s rest in that truth this week, friends. Until we meet again …

♥ Lois

P.S. I’m linking up this week with Purposeful Faith, #TellHisStory, InstaEncouragements, Recharge Wednesday, Let’s Have Coffee and Grace & Truth.

Photo by Victor Filippov on Unsplash