It’s always always worth it
Brrr…after some cold snaps that found us trying to dig out our heavy winter coats from the back of the closet, we’re back to the milder winter we’re accustomed to here in northeast Louisiana. That means early mornings on my prayer porch require the lightest of blankets. It’s perfect conditions for my Jesus throw, a beautifully embroidered gift from Sylvia Bolin, a sweet woman whose church retreat I led a couple years back in Hot Springs. (Has it really been that long? We must fix that Legacy Church.) My Jesus blanket is adorned with the Names of God. I treasure all the ways He reveals Himself but right now I want to celebrate the Wonderful Counselor. Can I tell you a story…
My soul sated with Jesus’ imitable company, I stood up to go inside this morning and winced when a sharp pain shot through the ball of my left foot. What was this? Maybe it had something to do with the way I’d been sitting, or how I stood up? If that sounds foreign to you, give it a few years. Aging is interesting, at best.
The sharp pain persisted as I headed to the back for my daily extreme makeover. (Another story for another time.)
It was impossible to walk without wincing. I finally made it to the bedroom where I removed my sock to investigate the situation. Getting my foot into inspection position was its own challenge, but once I managed to contort my body, I found the problem. My sock foot had picked up the smallest of thorns from the back porch — but it came with a razor-sharp tip! Once removed, all was well. Which brings me to the point to my story, (besides the one on the thorn!)
It’s not always easy to settle into prayer. More often than not, it’s downright hard. But it is always, always, always worth it. See, I’ve learned that what Jesus does for my soul is a lot like what I did for my foot. He finds the thorns causing my heart to limp. Sometimes He removes thorns I don’t even see. Sometimes He removes thorns I’m fully aware of, only I’ve been clinging to them like well-earned badges. Either way, post prayer, I can walk without wincing.
That’s my Jesus, Wonderful Counselor. Message me if I can introduce you.
Hugs,
Shellie
