Day 30: In the words of my dear friend, "He always shows His Glory".

I  mentioned my community on Day 1, and today I want to share a little more of that community with you through the writing of one of my closest friends, Jen.  She is wise. She is compassionate. She is faithful.  Just what I needed for a journey through cancer.  She blogs here and I promise you will be blessed to follow.  But if you want to get hooked, read on....

Show me Your Glory

This is always the deep whisper in my soul that grows louder and
louder as I approach that beautiful sandy place where the ocean roars
loud and drowns out the untamed thoughts coursing through my mind. I
am eager to get there. Always afraid I'll miss it.

But today it's okay if we miss it. I've already seen his
unapproachable light. It came in headlights rounding the corner as my
sister Sara and I waited for our ride to see the sunrise.

It's cloudy and a little warmer than the first time we rose early and
drove to the beach to see the sunrise. It was just the two of us then.
That was nine months ago.

That time I came needing Him in a way that I hadn't in a long time. It
was the last day of summer. Just a week before, I had watched my sister
Kara build a sandcastle with her son and daughter. I watched and
wondered, never voiced, just wondered deep down if she would be doing
this again come next summer. Or dare I ask the question, would her
Cancer take moments like these from us?

Nine months ago I watched the sunrise from this same beach. I begged
for His mercy to save her, get us through the upcoming year of
surgeries and chemo treatments. I was asking for my husband to have a
job, but most of all I remember asking that He would bring His
goodness to this life. A life that only seemed to be getting harder
with each passing year. With that sunrise He comforted me and reminded
me that his Glory never fades, like the sun it will always rise.

Today I was headed to watch a beautiful sunrise over the ocean, read His word,
and be reminded again about the light, the Glorious light that comes
from God alone, but that was not the unapproachable light he shone for me
today. No, His light today was in the headlights approaching.

Kara was in the driver seat today, her faithful mom by her side. She  picked us up with a smile, and the four of us headed to the beach with hopes of catching sight of that
sweet moment when the grey horizon is broken by the glowing orb that
brings warmth and light to my soul.

We've made it in time. We sit in our chairs each reading a different chapter or
verse from the same Good Book. Again, God is faithful. The sun appears.  It starts as a glimmering of pink, none the less. Then slowly the sky brightens. 

And there it is plain as day , because there really is nothing new
under the sun. He's put it in words for me already.

1Timothy 6:15-16 God, the blessed and only Ruler, the King of kings
and Lord of lords, who alone is immortal and who lives in
unapproachable light, whom no one has seen or can see. To him be honor
and might forever. Amen.

Unapproachable light. That's what made me wake up early this morning
that desire to know again the only thing that satisfies. Jesus the
light of the world.

I continue reading and sure enough He points me toward his glory.

Psalm 145:3-7
Great is the Lord and most worthy of praise;
his greatness no one can fathom. One generation commends your works to another;
they tell of your mighty acts. They speak of the glorious splendor of
your majesty—
and I will meditate on your wonderful works. They tell of the power of
your awesome works—
and I will proclaim your great deeds. They celebrate your abundant goodness
and joyfully sing of your righteousness.

The sun rises and takes my breath away. The tears dry on my cheeks.  I
sigh and silently say thank you. "Thank you Jesus, for how you've loved
and shown your glory over this past year." I sit feeling whole again.
Then it comes...

She breaks the silence of the moment. "Jen, I think you should write a
blog." I stare at her, now a cancer survivor wearing her black and pink "go, fight,
cure," hat. It's nine months later. Her hair is quickly growing back.
Her last surgery was finished 2 weeks ago.

He uses her to say it, loud and clear. With two witnesses watching.
What he's been quietly asking me to do for the past nine months. Write
Jen, write.

Can I really tell my sister who just fought for her life, with
everything in her, that I can't? Can I give her excuses about not
being good enough, not having enough time, or not knowing where to
start? Of course not, and that's why He uses her to tell me it's time.
It's time to give birth to the seed He planted. To write. To tell of
the power of His awesome works- to proclaim His great deeds.

He's shown His glory time and time again this past year, miles away
from the beach. But today at this sunrise He is up to something
different. He's asking me to share His glory with you...

I'm not sure what it will bring, I'm scared to death I'll make a fool
of myself and I realize I'll never be able to perfectly put my Savior
into words. But I've clearly been asked and it's time. It's time to
birth a blog?