Whew! Last week was a doozy, I tell you. It was a good doozy, but a doozy nonetheless. I’m so thankful for every opportunity we have had in the past three years to tell the story of how God has moved into our neighborhood, into our heartache, into our suffering. I cannot begin to articulate how beautiful His mercy has been in the middle of the mess. This weekend, I spoke honestly about our story at Westside Church and I can’t quite stop praying that it comforted those who are deeply hurting and challenged those who are perfectly happy. No message has ever meant more to me than this one.
So, I’m sharing it with you on a snowy, frigid Monday, hoping it might encourage and challenge you or maybe someone you love who is going through a sorrow-storm at Christmastime.
I love you. I do. And I am thinking of this beautiful blog community as we all live in a world that feels far from home. Immanuel has come. To us. And He is enough.
Happy Monday,
Bo
P.S. That’s my handsome son-in-law, Corey, leading worship. He’s really great!
Thank you so much Bo. I am so glad you shared this message.
Wonderful message. I was diagnosed 21 years ago with a genetic disease. A friend recently asked me about how my faith in God has just gotten stronger over the years instead of me becoming bitter or frustrated with Him for not healing me. I told her that aside from all the opportunities I’ve had to share my God with others, the way suffering has changed me made it worth it. I’d NEVER want to go back to being the girl I was 21 years ago, even though at the time I thought she was a very good girl. Suffering has refined my heart so dramatically that I am grateful for it. God is so good! Should He heal me here on earth or not, I trust Him completely.
Now the angel had not noticed the businessman in the bar,or even when he had left, but as the angel was leaving to once more return to the church across the street, he noticed a trail from drops of blood in the freshly fallen snow. No one else could see this trail of blood flowing from this wound, for this was a wound of the soul…but fortunately angels’ eyes can see what humans cannot. (excerpt from Trans-Siberian Orchestra, The Lost Christmas Eve)pg.4.
Bo, The angels see what flows from your wound. We see your
*****SPARKLES*****