Monday Musings on God in her midst

On Saturday, through 90 degree humid weather, I moved. Or more accurately, there were many people throughout the day who helped me, my roommate, and her fiance move into our new respective homes. I think mostly I sweated and wheezed my way through the day.

Several people asked me how I felt about the move, which happened a few weeks sooner than I had originally planned for it to. I told them I honestly hadn't had time to think about or process it, but mostly it seemed "weird" -- a kind of catch-all word for feelings that haven't fully developed yet.

At the end of seven hours, I was back at the apartment to grab a few last minute things before unpacking. As I sat on the floor, sweaty legs sliding on the floor and my back against the bare wall, I cried.

I was hot, so terribly tired, and at that moment, very thankful for a gracious God. (and servant-hearted friends, cold pizza and soda in the fridge, a move that was relatively easy...all tangible evidences of the above.)

My year and a half in that apartment began with me broken more than I knew and not so very close to God. I floundered to find solace in this new neighborhood, this new roommate, and a turn in life that I wasn't expecting.*

All things that were in God's hands and not what I would have chosen for myself. Incidentally, important to note that these things are also not God, a lesson I realized just a few months ago.

God is revealing to me over and over how He was in -- is in -- my midst and how good He was to, in essence, restart my life. I am a changed soul and, to use some more Christian jargon, God's hand has really been upon me.

Zephaniah 3:17 is ringing sweetly true: 

"The Lord your God is in your midst.l,

a mighty one who will save;

He will rejoice over you with gladness;

He will quiet you with His love;

He will exult over you with loud singing."

So I cried for overwhelming gratitude of a God who is intimately in my midst and always leading me to Him, a life far better than I could have asked for myself. Being aware of those truths made the tears keep coming. My prayer is for this new home carry a greater nearness to God and a resting place for weary souls.

*These are all examples of grace that I wasn't expecting that, at the time, were pretty hard. My friend Amy just posted today about this topic far more articulately than I can and much more effectively than this post rambles on about. Really, my job as an English teacher is to point you toward better writing, and Amy will always be an example of such. I read her posts and just groan, "ugh. yes. so good."