And why have I called you for this work? Why did I call you by name when you did not know me? It is for the sake of Jacob my servant, Israel, my chosen one. (God chooses Cyrus to rescue His people from exile.)
—Isaiah 45:4 NLT
Daddy, you’re living through the one thing you never wanted to happen. Who were you today? I wasn’t sure you knew me, and I didn’t know you. When you looked at me, I was an outsider in your world—a person who had never impacted your life. I wanted to run—to escape the loss of my father—to hide from the sadness that was breaking my heart. But I couldn’t. I wouldn’t.
I know you’re alone in your own reality. I’m sorry you can’t understand how much you’re loved right now—that you can’t receive or give or understand or relate or reason. When you talk, it is a collage of events—of fairy tales—of impossible feats—of a realm where, in your mind, you are still in control. You pilot your plane through seas and earth. You travel in boats upon clouds that spiral out of sight. You flit between realities as light as a fairy. You dance in a place I haven’t seen. You see what I can’t see. You experience what I can’t experience.
Within your soul, rests the promise that you are known. You have been called by name. Even if you don’t always remember Him, Daddy, God always remembers you. If He called Cyrus by name, who didn’t know Him, and equipped Him beyond his own limitations, then God also calls you—who belongs to Him—and equips you for this hard journey. He also equips me for this journey. We both have been called to this work. Within your mind, the Spirit of God uses you beyond my ability to grasp. He calls you to a reality that I can’t imagine. Within mine, I live a purpose which sometimes tears my heart to shreds, just as Jesus’ heart was torn to shreds for me. This is His work in me.
Dear Lord, for the sake of your chosen people, Cyrus was anointed to rescue your children in exile. So often, it feels like I’m in exile, too. When I can’t reach Daddy, I feel like he is in exile. I have to remind myself that Daddy goes nowhere alone, and in his world you are his perfect guardian. For his sake and mine and for other family members torn asunder by his illness, you send encouragers—those you know who understand, because they, also, have walked this valley. They come, not to rescue from the journey—because they can’t. They come to strengthen in this valley. With their support, this journey’s crushing weight of lonely heartbreak is lifted. And in their midst, your comfort and strength is found. In this place from which there is no escape, I learn that victory isn’t found on the mountain when life is perfect. Victory is discovered in the valley when despair turns into joy.
© 2017 Lynn Lacher