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Spots.

He gave them what they needed. He made His glory known through their pain. And ultimately He delivered them in the way and timing He knew was best.

But never once did He miss a thing. 

 

They found a spot on my dad’s lung a couple of weeks ago.

It was just a tiny spot, about the size of the piece of grit that fell out of my shoe Tuesday when Heather and I went for a walk. When I finally stopped and shook it out, it hit the pavement like lint, soundless and light. In the moments before it fell out into the sunshine, it had ground into my heel like an ice pick.

Heather laughed. I did, too.

Things like that can feel so big sometimes.

Dad’s spot had popped up on a routine scan, a little piece of grit, unknown and dark. We didn’t know how long it had been there. We didn’t know what it was.

And that was scary.

As I lay in bed one night, things rolling around in my mind, I rolled over on my side, pulled the covers over my head and curled my knees up to my chest.

And from my tiny dark spot, I whispered.

God, you see it, right?

That spot … you see it?

And you see me too?

Lately I feel like there have been a few things that have popped up, little dark spots that I don’t quite know how to handle. Things that make me uncomfortable. Things that I feel unequipped to deal with. Things I don’t love.

And I’ve curled up under the covers more than a few times, right into those spots, and whether I realized it or not, I thought it.

This spot’s outside God’s line of sight. It’s gotta be.

I know that’s not true. But subconsciously I’ve been treating some of them like that, and because of that they’ve been rubbing me raw, boring into my soul like ice picks in my running shoes.

It’s as if I think that spot is the one place where maybe He isn’t going to be who He says He is.

Or that maybe it’s the one place in my life where maybe He just won’t come through, that He just won’t be enough.

Or that maybe the spot where God brought me to save me is now the spot where He’s going to leave me to figure it out on my own.

Or that maybe I’m the only person to ever find myself here.

But it’s not a new problem.

When God’s people found themselves in Egypt, the place where God brought them by design to save them from dying in a famine, they trusted Him at first. But then later, they found themselves stuck, uncomfortable, hurt.

And they thought that spot where the salvation had been, the spot that now wasn’t super comfortable, might just be out of God’s sight.

But God heard their groaning, and God remembered His covenant … and God saw the people. And God knew.

He heard.

He remembered.

He saw.

He knew.

And He gave them what they needed. He made His glory known through their pain. And ultimately He delivered them in the way and timing He knew was best.

But never once did He miss a thing.

There’s no spot that escapes His reach, no zip code in which He’s not who He is. That goes for Dad’s spot, for my spot under the covers, for the places I feel like maybe my own inadequacies prevent God from being able to do what He intends to do.

He sees.

He knows.

He loves.

And He meets us even – especially – in those spots.

(@gracefortheroadblog on Instagram)

*****

 

It’s almost here, guys. What in the world. 

“Have you been waiting for life to turn out the way you expected?

… You’re not alone.”

“I Don’t Wait Anymore” the book, available here.

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