That thought struck me last night, kind of like a falling tree.
It's not that I didn't know it already, both consciously and subconsciously, but it was the first time it had come to me in words.
My immediate reaction was...
I mean, so what? For most of my life, I felt pretty good, aside from the aches and pains that came with a violently physical career.
And I didn't appreciate it. It was normal, and who pays attention to the normal?
Now it's different. Feeling good is no longer a happy accident of nature. It's the result of effort, the physical effort to accomplish something that needs to be done and feels like it's just too much, or the mental and spiritual mastery of hope above hopelessness, a battle that has to me fought ever hour of every day.
And it's not something I do alone.
It is well with my soul is not a passive acceptance.
It's God reaching down to me, and me reaching up to Him.
I may not be well, ever again, but I'm feelin/...
Aw, you know the rest, and here's the song...
Thanks to Carol Ashby, Blessed Are The Pure Of Heart is back on Kindle, and will be available in paperback soon.
Friends are everything. I couldn't have done it.