on the throne

Things have been amazing with my job recently. I've been privileged to care for some of the most beautiful patients, and I've been feeling so content and satisfied and just plain fulfilled in my work here. I've been writing story after story about joy and miracles and successes. It seems like all sunshine and roses, and I don't want to be painting a false picture.

So I have to be honest. The truth is, I'm tired and I'm heartsick and right now, I just want to go home. I saw a photo last night of my brother and sister and cousin and friend sitting around my kitchen table drinking tea, and I dissolved into tears. I called home this morning to talk to my mother and was given the next piece of horrible news. Every. single. time. that I call home, it's something else, and it hurts. It hurts so much.

It's not like I can sit down with my mum and cry and just hash things out. It's not like I can go out to breakfast with daddy and hear the words of wisdom that he always gives to me in that chrome-lined diner. I can't jump into sister's hammock while she perches on her stool and calms my restless fears. I'm halfway across the world, and that world is getting bigger every day as my family and all the people I love recede into the dark distance.

I've gotten into the habit recently of writing down verses that jump out at me while I'm reading my Bible. Just now, I needed to calm my heart before going to work, so I pulled out my book and starting reading through the pages.

And God is able to make all grace abound to you. (2 Corinthians 9:8)

Great peace have they who love your law, and nothing can make them stumble. (Psalm 119:165)

For no matter how many promises God has made, they are 'yes' in Christ. As so through him, the 'amen' is spoken to us by the glory of God. (2 Corinthians 1:20)

Who has measured the waters in the hollow of his hand, or with the breadth of his hand marked off the heavens? (Isaiah 40:12)

He is wooing you from the jaws of distress to a spacious place free from restriction, to the comfort of your table laden with choice food. (Job 36:16)

Save me, for I am yours. (Psalm 119:94)

The Lord will fight for you. You need only to be still. (Exodus 14:14)

There is nothing to add.

When faced with the immanent death of her child years ago, my aunt asked my brother's father-in-law in despair Is there any good news? He looked at her and said quietly Yes. God is on the throne.

So I cling to that truth. As I search for solid ground, I find some kind of shaky solace in the fact that there is a God who knows more than I do. I'm scared to move, that much is true. I'm scared that this little patch of firm ground will dissolve underneath me if I take a wrong step.

I might just not call home anymore.