Comfort.

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Comfort. A word I have recently realized I have sought out a lot in my journey of self. Coffee, carbs, blankets. The more recently noted; stubbornness, pride, hurt. The words singe deep. I’ve carried them so long. My morning comfort reminds me, “The lot is cast into the lap, but it’s every decision is from The Lord.” (Proverbs 16:33)
Nothing I have is my own. It is all a part of His endless and bountiful grace on my life.
Proverbs 16:30 (MSG)
A shifty eye betrays an evil intention; a clenched jaw signals trouble ahead.
My pride and selfishness rears its ugly head. The words couldn’t be more truthful.
Just as more justification creeps in;
Proverbs 16:18 (MSG)
First pride, then the crash— the bigger the ego, the harder the fall.
Forgiveness needs to happen. The beauty in forgiveness. The reminder that He forgave me and holding onto my pride would mean forsaking the one I have come to love so deeply…because He loved me first. I need to love first to let love win.
Where is my comfort then? How could I forget. February 2010. Seeing the shell of the man who was my grandfather. His whole life made sense to me that day because of an old q&a that he lived by for the etched out 80 years or so of his life. My father read the words, and they could not have made a louder realization to my spirit as I stared at the shiny box that contained the earthly vessel that was my pop pop.
“What is your only comfort in life and death? That I belong to Jesus Christ, my savior.”
The comfort of life ending in the arms of Jesus is not nearly enough. The comfort begins today. I need to let Him carry me today so years ahead when it’s time to leave, it is a seamless transition to eternity. The silence is painful. Letting my pride die is so painful. But i see that years of silence made my Grandfather the most beautiful man I know. He must have been like Jesus. Silence seems less painful.
Comfort. My only comfort.

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