That dash { - }

I don't have time to write right now.

I'm going to write right now. ;)

This week we hit the ground running after our short but sweet trip west and back east again.

I'm tired and not feeling like I am in 100% good health right now, but it is enough. I have enough strength for each minute, and I am learning that is all I need. 

He is enough,
they are enough,
and right now I.have.enough. 


Lots of grappling with life,
and earth vs. heaven,
and God's sovereignty,
and finding light in the midst of darkness. I know, it's alot. That's where I am at right now.

I remember just a couple of short weeks ago, standing at Joshua's head stone on the 10th anniversary of his death. I usually trace his name with my finger, and my eyes scan the carving of Jesus holding a baby. That's my usual point of fixation.
His name.
My last name.
Jesus holding him.

This year though, I just could not take my eyes off that tiny dash.

Joshua David McCallum 
1-2-03 - 1-12-03

-

Just that  -


When my focus was on that dash I felt a mixture of grief and an excitement bubbling up in my heart, compelling me to action.

In the last 3 weeks we have faced this 10 year anniversary,
we have found out that my aunt had passed from this world to the next,
and then my uncle, at age 59, as well.

And really, I just keep thinking that it could be any time for me.  It could be 10 minutes from now, it could be 60 years from now.

But that dash;

the simple -

I want it to count. 

I want that little line carved in stone to be representative of big things. I want it to be screaming "that date before me, her date of birth, until that date right after me, the date she no longer lived in this place, there was so much!

She didn't hold anything back.

She didn't care if she fell flat on her face while trying to live the life full of good works that God had planned for her before she was even born.

She lived with reckless abandon to bring glory to her Father in heaven! 

She lived for the date after me.


And the bad news has not stopped coming in.

A friend with an aggressive breast cancer… and wee babe growing inside as this disease sneaks in.

More cancer… more friends…. more darkness.

People I love who are grieving and wrestling and struggling.

It can be overwhelming.
Dark.
Heavy.


And then I fix

                      my

                           eyes

                                  on

                                       Jesus.


And when I do that, the heavy leaves. Because he is more than able. He is more than enough. We don't get why He is allowing some of this. We just don't get it some times.

 {We are made from dust, and sometimes dust can't quite comprehend the heart of the maker}

But I DO get that He is GOOD. He is faithful. He is unending. He is all powerful. And he is all about eternity. Sometimes during that dash;

that little - 

we will face things that don't seem fair,

that are uncomfortable,

and that may even feel excruciating,

but…

He sees the end and the beginning.  And He says,
"Hold on, you can do this.
Lean on me, and watch my glory shine through you.
Watch your life count for something of eternal value.
Watch redemption happen."