Defeating Ignorant Grief

SevenInk in Singapore
04.25.2007 09:30 AM



Satisfy us in the morning with your unfailing love that we may sing for joy and be glad all our days. Psalm 90:14 NIV

I began this day reciting this verse repeatedly, amidst my tears in hope that suddenly I would start singing for joy and be glad all my days.

Unfailing love, translated in the Amplified Bible as God’s mercy and loving-kindness. To where shall I put my trust in times that trust has lost its ground inside the very core of my heart. To where shall I seek joy when my weary eyes have given way to my tears as its master.

Nowadays, when silence seems so loud and grief is comfortable in its new-found home which is my being, making the next step feels like a feat requiring higher level of knowledge. My right foot can’t make its move as my left foot is so sturdy and careless of its other half.

Oh, grief is so ignorant and does not even care to learn. (L.B. Cowman, Streams in the Desert). Ever watched this in real time? Ever had all the colors in your palette but you end up painting grayscale? How about drinking water from an empty glass and yet you expect to be filled?

Pain has numerous ways to count its way inside a man’s heart. Yet my heart would decide if pain indeed would have its way inside me. But as the battle heightens up, I begin to realize that I’m losing by TKO. I seek protection inside the covering of the mighty armor of silence yet the fiercest of my thoughts beats the hell out of me.

I lay my armor, I stare at the horizon, I touch the soft wind and like a whisper to a thunderous scream, I uttered in defeat to God, “lay down your game plan and I’ll zoom my way against all foes knowing You planned it”.

Now I wait for the certain peace in uncertain time. But as God holds the hands of the clock, it would stop whenever its destined to stop.

Time is running out for this mortal breath of mine. But the immortality of eternity waits with abundant joy as the rest of the soldiers of God who lived in this world gloriously triumph bearing no sign of their wounds and no blood to spill as the blood of the Savior already spilled its way for my redemption.

Our joys are made better when sorrow is in the midst of them. And our sorrows become bright through the joys that God has planted around them.(L.B. Cowman, Streams in the Desert)