Forgiving God

I'm not sure where I discovered Hilary's writing, but she had me at the dedication,
To Jack who looks like Jesus
and to Preston, who built the ark

But I know why I put it in my shopping cart. The jacket reads, "Hilary cut a path through her old, familiar faith to the God behind it.
she discovered that it is by walking out onto the water, where the firm ground gives way, that we can find him." She doesn't know it, but we are kindreds of a kind.

I am fascinated with what forges a resilient faith; not just surviving a trauma, but thriving in the midst of it. Some of us walk away at the first sign of a troubled life and others dig deeper wells. I have long wanted to be one who dug deeper wells, but underneath my determination, afraid I might crumble under hard times. I know the deep cry of a mama's heart from a house full of children, one on the autism spectrum, and wondering if God had chosen the right mama for their sweet bewildered hearts. And then Jesus spoke to me from the fog, "I have never looked away, not for one instant. I knew just what I was doing when I chose you."

That Hilary could find words for her story so soon on the journey has me feeling weak, but that she found such lyrical ones has blessed my soul.

I leave you with this line,
My son must know that life is a rising up, a complaint and an exhoration and a song sent before the throne of God. My son must know that throne is reached through the Jordan River.