I Love to Tell the Story

I Love to Tell the Story

It was our last morning with our healthy, energetic ten-year-old son, and the first day of school — his fifth-grade year.   Ryan came bounding into the bathroom where I was fixing his sister’s hair.  He was radiant. His face was glowing.   I asked his sister, “Lindsay, do you see what I see?”   She said, “Yes, Mom, Ryan’s face is glowing!”  We stared at him in bewilderment, and then I said, “Well, all I can say is, ‘You must have scrubbed your face extra hard this morning!'”  Then he skipped out the door…                             …and out of my life.   I waved him off with a thumbs up saying, “It’s going to be a good year, Bud!”   Those would be the last words I would speak to my boy on this side of eternity. Less than a minute later, I heard the screech of brakes, and our family would never be the same.

But there is a silver lining to this dark cloud.

A week prior to that day, Ryan and I had had a conversation about Jeremiah 17:7-8.

Tree and Roots

He had disappeared into his bedroom for a time and had come out and presented me with a picture that he had drawn of that passage.  I didn’t know it at the time, but it was a prophetic message straight from the heart of God.  Unbeknownst to me, I was about to enter into a “year of drought,” and He was telling me that I would need to extend my roots to the stream …  the stream of Living Water …  and that He would see me through. I did. And He did. It wasn’t easy.  Not at all. There were hard days. Many of them. But God.  (There are those two words again.) By His grace, I did not cease to bear fruit in my year of drought. In His Word, I found healing and the will to go on.The Word of God is my sustenance.
It is living and active,  and sharper than a two-edged sword.
It is life-changing.
I need His Word more than I need
food,                       water,                                 or air.  He is my Restorer (Joel 2:25-26).
And He is yours. I will spend the rest of my days telling others of His tender care during my dark night in the desert.   That first trip through the calendar is tough.   But, oh, how He did comfort me!  I grew to know Him in ways I never had before.
He is a multifaceted God — beyond human comprehension.
He is holy and powerful … and, yet, compassionate and tender. I cannot help but tell the story of Jesus and His love …    If I didn’t, the rocks would cry out. With joy and honor, I will tell the old, old story … until the day Ryan and I are reunited.

And so I wait.

To hear the song, “I Love to Tell the Story,” click here.

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