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Brittany Ross

June 15, 2024

Philippians 3:13, New Living Translation

“…I focus on this one thing: Forgetting the past and looking forward to what lies ahead.”


It’s just You and me here in the dark.


The bold, faith-filled proclamations made in the light slink back into a corner of quiet loneliness as night creeps in.


The night sits heavy on my chest. Sometimes, it’s like a warm blanket. Other times, it’s like a snake that wraps itself around me, twisting and constricting, making it hard to breathe.


I never know which brand of night I will meet when the lights go out.


It’s vulnerable being human— having a heart that feels the highs and lows with such passion.


This rollercoaster called “the human experience” offers no access to the control panel, no blueprint to know when the next drop will come…just the opportunity to trust that—when it does—the safety harness will do its job (Trust is the only way to be free and enjoy the ride).


When exhaustion frays a soul ran ragged through the wringer of deception, Faith and hope leak out of the holes punctured by injustice.


“Vengeance is Mine”, You say. I lean into Your voice— the safety harness.


I don’t want my vengeance because I want You to have Yours. I want to remember who the real enemy is and forget the stories he’s told, the accusations he’s slung and the plunder I have forfeited through my agreement.


“It’s under the blood”, You say. And I know it’s true.


Your redemption isn’t limited to my capacity to understand. Thank You for that.


Still, in the waiting my heart sings out its deepest question in a sad song: “Will You be here when there’s nothing but the pain? When I can’t see past the rain? Will You be here? Will You be here when I’m face down in the dirt? When all I feel is hurt, will You be here?”


Your “yes” is the most beautiful sound to echo across my desert soul. It’s a well of Living Water.


The holes in my soul cause me to remember the ones in Your hands and feet. Acquainted with You in Your suffering…


You start to stitch me up with the thread of my trust. Faith swells and hope plants the promise of a new beginning.


“I am doing a new thing”, You say. And I am ready for it.


My heart responds with a different tune: I don’t know what I am doing but I am doing it with You. I may look like a failure; I may look like a fool…I don’t know what I am doing but I am doing it with you.


“I am with You”, we say.


The night hangs on, but You hold tighter still, whispering promises of a joy that comes in the mourning/morning.


I believe. The snake loosens its grip as You crush its head with Your heel.

You are the blanket that covers me in the night and the safety harness through the drops I don’t see coming.


“I can’t do this without You”, I say.


You say I don’t have to and remind me to lean in.

“…I focus on this one thing: Forgetting the past and looking forward to what lies ahead.” (Philippians 3:13, NLT)

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