Everybody is against us. I rejoice in this, for God will be more favorable to us. . . If we be faithful, God will not fail us. ~ St. Paul of the Cross
We are walking on fire, my family and I. It has been a bloody month, woundings that draw blood. One after another, the hits are stronger than before, relentless. If we have one happy day where the breezes twirl in joy~dance about us, then come more days when a dark wind stirs up stones against us.
Not everybody is against us, but our camp is dwindling.
I rejoice in this? No, I don’t. Not a bit. No part of me understands that prayer line. Who rejoices when your innocent, hardworking children are hit and torn apart by teachers for no real reason? Who rejoices when the boss who has bullied for more than twenty years, drives into us yet another dagger to tear us away from God and family? Who rejoices when our work is rent to nothing?
I cannot rejoice. Not even for God. Because I don’t know how.
But I do know how to bind up my loved ones’ wounds with the bandages God has provided. As I pray them not to depart the Cross, I will them to believe that even if the world sneers and discards the work of their hands, honest toil never falls unheeded to the ground, to be trampled by those who do not know better.
No. Work from the heart, work done for Jesus is never forgotten. Wherever pure love and sacrifice is cast aside in derision, angels tread softly among the broken and the torn, picking up every little bruised head and crushed stalk, bloom after bloom. They are saved for the gardens of heavens, where they will live on.
Ten years ago, grief winds brought the words, “…. no die.” They come before me yet again as my family pick themselves up from the ground and turn their faces to the sun once more.
To remind me that nothing for God ever dies.