Susan LaffertyThe weight on my heart is not a frantic, anxious weight. It’s the weight of prayer. Prayer for my dear friend who is suffering. She wades through deep waters in this season. Crushed.
Crying out to You the hurt. The upheaval. The unknown.
And yet, even there she speaks of Your faithfulness. Even there, Your word sustains. Daily manna, she says. And ponders what the God of the impossible can do.
“If we believe He is who He says He is, how can we not hope?”
The birds swoop down toward me. Splattered mud of last year’s temporary nest still stains the corner under the roof of our patio. We’ve tried to deter them. A long rope of brass bells from India hangs from a nail nearby. I watch them pull at the strands of the rope. Loudly protesting this intrusion.
They try a new location. In the opposite corner. Instinct rules and they will not be stopped. We pile something in this new spot. Our attempt at a scarecrow. We wait to see whether they’ll leave for another place.
They’re obnoxious. All the chattering and swooping makes the back patio an unpleasant experience. But I know it’s how they’re wired. It’s time for nest making. Go home.
“Repent! Turn from your wicked ways.” Images of a street corner preacher flicker across my mind. My wicked ways as a child involved telling a lie about sneaking a piece of candy. Or pinching my brother and sister. Or talking back to my parents. Hardly the stuff of dramatic “repent and believe” testimonies.
After I repented and believed as a child, I was baptized. Thus began my walk with the Lord. That initial “repent and believe” is the forever turning point in my life. The time Jesus saved me from my sin. He put His seal, the Holy Spirit, on my heart. I am His for eternity.