The healing journey is mostly a long, slow, arduous path.
Alone, ashamed, convinced its all up to me; rushing forward, then collapsing exhausted. Tripping and stumbling through briers and mud and dark valleys, it feels like I'll never find that light at the end of the tunnel.
Somewhere in the depths, I begin to get it:
I don't have to see the light at the end of the tunnel,
I just have to believe its there.
No sooner does my heart accept this truth, than I sense a glimmer, bringing light to my despair-blinded eyes. And suddenly, in a rush, propelled forward by His grace...light shines all around.
Twelve weeks: Classes, counseling, healing prayer, more counseling, more prayer...little God-appointed, coincidence-miracles all along the way. And I find myself in a different place.
Crying out, still - but now, seeing His face.
Fast forward twelve weeks:
Hope shines bright.
Are you in a season of crying out? Praying for that Fast-Forward?