Jesus, Savior, pilot me.

It has been three months today from our most unwanted day back in December. Looking back, it is crazy that this much time has gone by already. Back in December every day felt like an eternity. At times I couldn't even think of tomorrow. Before we left the hospital in Boise, our doctor sat next to my bed and held my hand while he said "Time will heal much better than words." These words have been a piece of my hope. Knowing that I must go on to heal hasn't been easy, but it has been better than staying in my bed.

To be quite candid, I haven't let go of many things. I know nothing will change, but maybe at times I haven't admitted that I won't have them back. Sorry if this seems silly, but it was a realization I made a few days ago, when tears overwhelmed my eyes and I had a hard time talking with David about it being over. David and I have been attending a conference here in Albuquerque, NM and tonight seemed like a break through point for me. I'll see if I can explain. Tonight Richard Rohr, a Franciscan priest, shared some thoughts that tasted very good to my soul. He talked about suffering in our lives and how often that suffering comes to us by the death of a loved one. As natural, we want to blame and have reasons for the loss experienced, and yet often there can be no explanation. Now obviously, just stating that there aren't answers wasn't what I found peace with. It was the idea he presented that there are many things we don't understand, yet we can find peace and stillness in these mysteries. The comfort is in this, God is here. I am His and so are my boys. Though there is much pain in this, it can also be beautiful. Richard Rohr teaches the beauty of tension, knowing God and yet being surrounded by such mystery; being able to see beauty in such pain. Though it seems hard to understand how you can have both or believe in such paradoxes, we accept that Jesus, while on earth, was fully human and yet fully God. I'm not sure if I am making much sense, probably not since I should have retired this mind of mine a few hours ago.

We also sang a song that I had never heard before but it was beautiful and perfect to lay my burdens down.


Jesus, Savior, pilot me,
Over life’s tempestuous sea;
Unknown waves before me roll,
Hiding rock and treach’rous shoal;
Chart and compass came from Thee:
Jesus, Savior, pilot me.

As a mother stills her child,
Thou canst hush the ocean wild;
Boist’rous waves obey Thy will
When Thou say’st to them, “Be still!”
Wondrous Sov’reign of the sea,
Jesus, Savior, pilot me.

When at last I near the shore,
And the fearful breakers roar
’Twixt me and the peaceful rest,
Then, while leaning on Thy breast,
May I hear Thee say to me,
“Fear not, I will pilot thee.”


Thanks for reading.