I have been asking, for days long and years stretched, the wrong question. It has been one pressed deep, landing on legs, shaky. It has been my heart's song in the dark of night and the companion of days, burdened. It has careened around corners of my weakness, screeching, assuming, I must rely upon me. I have carried it, coddled, like some babe needing protection. I have embraced it like some lover grasping.
I have asked, over and over, until my throat has been parched, "How can I?" It is a petition both dripping with helplessness and producing anger. It has been one saturated with doubt. In a good God. And an able God.
I have discovered, I have been asking the wrong question.
When faced with difficulties, wrenching, the question is not, "How can I?". Rather, it is, "How can I not?"
How can I not trust my God with this?
How can I not serve Him in this way?
How can I not rely on His strength?
How can I not embrace this , embrace Him?
How. Can. I. Not?
This, this! Is a question with a sure foundation. This is one filled with moment by moment grace. This is the petition overflowing with comfort, hope, strength. I am no longer asking the impossible from limited me. Instead, I am asking the possible from a limitless God.
This question has brought fresh air like a cool summer breeze into a room stuffy, stifling, with self. It has opened windows, long latched shut, to His beauty, His splendor, His majesty.
I find myself both humbled and encouraged. I have discovered wings to fly higher and water to slake the deepest thirst. The roar of troubled waters has been dimmed by the peace of His presence. Burdens are transformed into opportunities. Bitter tears have become the sweet taste of His goodness.
"How can I not?", has become the church bell echoing through me.
He is good.
He is good.
He. Is. Good.
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