Ironically (or perhaps appropriately), during the very time I was working on an image of the heart as "wellspring," a new twist on my hearts and tangles, my own heart broke open from the weight of lonely homesickness, tired-mommy-ness . . . and your basic, "grade-F" brand of pure "poor me" selfishness. (I wrote about the bad day that started it, and this painting as work-in-progress here).
Has this ever happened to you? You're mid-sentence, counting your blessings, when discontentment suddenly and rudely interrupts. I had no excuse, especially when this is what I've been thinking on:
"Keep and guard your heart
with all vigilance,
and above all that you guard
for out of it flow the springs of life"
(Proverbs 4:23, Amplified Bible, emphasis mine).
Maybe it happened because I was only thinking on these things and neglected to be vigilant. Because if you're like me, things like this almost always happen when you're least expecting it. When you've let your guard down. When you've become distracted--distracted even by good things.
Maybe it's because sometimes the downpour that tests our faith and tries our attitudes is simply the place where we must "live" for a while--it's a day-by-day (even minute-by-minute) opportunity to discover the leaks in our roof and to sure up our shelter against the next storm.
Whatever the reason, I think that torrents of tears and waterfalls of blessed joy mingle together in the "springs of life." And even as nations pray desperately this very day for rain, let us also lay open our dry hearts to be drenched in whatever downpour we're living in at the moment --whether in tears of mourning or tears of joy. For this downpour is the very place where our stories are being written.
May we be willing, one drop at a time, to be worn and carved into vessels of beautiful depth. For it is life and love that blossom out of the torrents of the deep.
Joining Studio JRU and Studio Sneak Peek Friday here.