(I was feeling this today, so I went back, found the blog, and decided on a repost.)

Well, folks, I've been struggling. Sometimes I think that the outward struggle to write is related to the inward struggle of faith. The weaker I feel in Christ, the harder it is to write. I have to cling to the fact that He is strong in my weakness. And feelings just don't matter when it comes to God.

Whenever I have those times when I feel like I'm in that valley where I just don't "feel" God at all, I tend to say that I'm "walking through Egypt." (I probably got that from Clyde Edgerton's book Walking Across Egypt.) The point is, it's like being in a desert and looking for water. When I am able to say that I'm "walking through Egypt," it helps me to hold onto the faith that I will eventually get to the other side and that God and I will connect again; that I'll get to the top of the mountain and have that sweet communion that I just can't seem to grasp when I'm in the midst of seasons like this.

Despite the fact that I'm in a dry desert, pretty much alone, Egypt can have some really awesome moments. There is, in fact, mail delivery in the middle of my Egyptian desert. God sends me postcards. They're not letters, because they don't take long to "read," but they are little bitty "hellos" that God sends to remind me that I am never, ever alone.

This morning, I was driving to Atlanta Bread Company (where you should have figured out by now that I typically like to write on Fridays) in the middle of a good ol' Georgia spring rainstorm. I was just about to change the radio station when "East to West" by Casting Crowns came on. That song has meant a whole lot to me at various times, but a new line grabbed me today and, when it did, the tears just smacked the backs of my eyelids. "I'm not holding on to you, but your'e holding on to me." Even now, sitting here in ABC, my eyes are welling up. There just aren't words for what that spoke to me, what it's speaking to me now. That even in Egypt, when I feel so spiritually weak that I can hardly hold my head up, when I've fought and fought to see the face of God and felt like He's just not there (even though my head knows He is, my heart could use a good shot of Him), that even though my grip may slip, He's never going to let me go. Never. Feelings don't matter; truth does. And the truth is that God loves me so much that He will never let me go. Such love. Such love for me. Wow. I needed that love.

1 Response
  1. kim Says:

    I am glad you got a postcard from God. Truth does matter. Thanks for being authentic and sharing.