If you are feeling disappointed or discouraged

A heart for the disappointed and discouraged (and because sometimes we feel low…)

Father there are times when it’s just not working, times when I run out of fizz, when the helter skelter’s been a bit too much, when I’ve just got no more to give.
Those times when I question and wonder, fretting whether anyone truly does care, distressed by the one demand too many and scared by the thought there’s nothing else there.

Father there are times when I find myself falling, wondering whether the ladder’s up against the wrong wall, wearied by the battle to hold on. Clinging on with gritted teeth terrified that  if I let go I’ll just fall. There are times Lord when it feels like there’s no one listening, and I feel crushed by the bustling mob  of people rushing by with eyes on their own lives,  feel like I’m being trampled by a harried and harassed mob. There are times when I want to sit it out Lord, not sure how I can really go on, choked by pain and fear, smothered by care and yet knowing somehow I must be strong.

power

Then into the place of darkness, of gloom, despair and no gain…I hear Your Spirit whisper “child hear you not the sound of the rain? Child know you not that my rain is coming – it’s upon you even as you look up. I’m Your Father and I love You. I’m Your Father and you I have not forgot. Child know of a truth You are remembered, Your name is tatooed on my hands. Your destiny is safe in my keeping, Your life is aligned to my plans. Child I’m weaving a tapestry of promise, Your life is on track and in time. I am with You to do all I’ve promised Child remember I never lose what is mine. You are my very own treasure. The one I redeemed by my hand. Look up, listen Child it’s not finished I’ll perfect Your life for that is my plan.

Child be encouraged, let hopelessness  vanish, stay strong let despair depart, be uplifted let disappointment no longer grip You and trust me to play My part. I’m building You my precious beloved, my delightful holy child. Never fear the seasons of waiting and quiet, for the chrysalis gives birth to the butterfly.
shared by Pearl Moses

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