It's one of those contemplative days. The kind where you're tired, but your mind is filled with things that need a sharper mind. Things that range from heavy subjects to ridiculously light subjects.
I have a weekly Bible study. We get together, have a meal, and then study. We've been on Acts the last few weeks. The last chapter was talking about Peter. His shadow would fall on people, and they were healed.
The leaders were angry because of the signs and wonders happening. They had the apostles jailed and flogged. These men were freed and rejoiced because they were worthy of being disgraced for just speaking Jesus's name.
I'm a glass half empty sort of gal. If the shoe is going to drop, it won't be one; it'll be every single pair in the closet.
Jesus knew what my faults, my attitude, everything that makes me unworthy. And yet, He knew me in the womb and still loves me. He still died for me. He knew I'd find it hard to rejoice in suffering.
He still died for me.
Sometimes, the heaviness of the world pushes in on me, squeezing my soul like grapes in a press. But I know the winemaker, and He knows me.
I have no idea why I shared all that. It was just what I've been thinking about, without even knowing I was. Does that make sense? I'm troubled in my spirit, not knowing the exact words of why. Then they hit, and I know it was this moment and not a minute sooner than the words came.
Hopefully, this time next week, I'm celebrating finishing the book I'm writing. You all have a good weekend and a blessed week.