Valley.

This week I remembered that sorrow is a spiritual discipline.  My least favorite one.  

There are people in my life who have been hurting me unintentionally.  I want to speak with them about how I'm feeling, but I'm afraid of saying things that will offend them, because I want to speak honestly.  I've spent the past couple weeks thinking so much about what I initially thought wasn't such a big deal, and have come to realize that I am actually hurting over this.  Feeling like you've been replaced isn't very comforting.  

One afternoon last week, I was sulking in my car while I was thinking about all of this, and God impressed really deeply upon my heart that there is something different I can be doing than just feeling sad; I can be radiant with sorrow, instead.  

I can completely acknowledge that I've been hurt, and that my friendships aren't perfect, but I can also be the one who eagerly utters the memory of God's abundant goodness, despite feeling like I'm lacking something.  He grants me peace and rest when I dwell on the countless testimonies of his provision and faithfulness.  

I need to be continually reminded that God isn't like us.  We are the bride of Christ; and the fidelity of the bridegroom will never hang in the balance.