What About That White Horse?

After a couple of weeks, I was comfortable in the ICU waiting room. There was a certain sense of community there as we were all there for our loved ones. It was a horrible place really. I wouldn't leave because a doctor might bring word out about Chris at any time. Whoever had been there the longest sort of ruled their roost and I was the designated sleeper in a particular recliner. I recall sleeping and waking up hoping it was all a dream. But it wasn't. Somehow I kept thinking God was going to come riding through on His white horse and rescue me. But He didn't. And thus, began my walk of redefining faith.

God never promised He'd rescue us out of life's fiery trials, but He did promise He'd walk through them with us. He said He'd never abandon us, never leave us. In Isaiah 43, God tells the prophet I have called you by name, you are mine. I like that I am His and not one thing life can throw at me changes that. Think about that for a second. My kids can get mad at me - tell me I'm not their mom. But their blood and DNA will always scream they are mine! We will always be His.

Isaiah 43 goes on to talk about going through the fires and floods. God never promises a way of escape - no white horses here. But He does make these promises:

When you go through deep waters and great trouble - I will be with you.

When you go through rivers of difficulty - you will not drown!

When you walk through the fires of oppression - you will not burn up.

Even though we are not going to see or experience a dramatic rescue scene, we are not alone, we will not drown, and life's trials will not consume us. He has this. He has us. In chapter 61 of Isaiah, God made promises to those who mourn. Now what stood out to me was this. To those who mourn in Zion. Zion is the dwelling of the Lord, how could there be mourning there? He never promised we would be exempt from trials, floods, and fires. He did promise we wouldn't be overcome. Just because we are in the church and part of the body of Christ doesn't mean we will not mourn. Caregivers often live with grief. There's no condemnation... only comfort.

Today, I think I'll be grateful He didn't ride in on a white horse because I would have missed so much of the journey to intimacy with Him. I'll meditate on His grace and how my faith has grown through the trial. And I will trust Him to carry me through one more day white horse or not! Will you join me?