God has been gutting me.
I know that sounds really graphic and strange, but there’s no other explanation. It started on February 16th and it hasn’t stopped. (Well, really, He started long before that, but I fought Him. So, I stopped fighting on February 16th.)
That’s the beauty of my God, though. Of our God. He isn’t afraid to get His holy hands dirty. He rolls up His sleeves and gets into the mess elbow-deep to pull out the root of the problem. He does the necessary surgery. He restores broken parts. He binds up the wounds.
I love Him so much.
He’s doing this in my family now, too. It started with me and now all of this craziness is happening. He’s restoring my family. Better than it was even at the height of our love for Him, of our service to Him.
There is so much work here for Him to do. For us to do with His hands guiding ours, too.
But healing is ugly. It’s blood and scabs and stitches and scars. It’s dirty and messy and not at all pretty at first.
But the process is so amazing. I’m fascinated by the healing that the human body knows to do. And that’s how it is in the spiritual part of us, too. Emotional, mental, spiritual – God does it in steps. It isn’t instantaneous. It’s so much hard work.
But it’s worth it.
It’s gonna be worth it.
I’m holding onto His promise with both hands and I am not letting go.