His Mercies Are New Every Morning
The most trying days are those that come after I’ve battled one symptom, and then another, until I’m treading treatments in order to continue the simplist of duties. When I’ve been tired too long. When I recall my lost beautiful talents and abilities, and can see so clearly and painfully that my disease ridden body is not going to respond to commands. When I remember that within my plethora of pharmaceutical palliatives, not one will bring those precious powers back. When my strength of will is overcome by regret and bitter resignation. When my faith falters. When I allow my selfish self pity to live, and for that tiny, ever present perpetual grief to have a voice. A voice that speaks four words over, and over, and over again, until I feel I’ll be crushed underneath it’s dark message. “You have no hope.”
But then God.
God, even when I haven’t the faith to open His Word, keeps me. Through kind words of a friend or a sweet action from my husband, or even an unexpected internet post, He reaches down and plucks me out of the miry clay and sets my feet upon a rock. As Jeremiah wrote in Lamentations, “This I recall to my mind, therefore have I hope. It is of the LORD’S mercies that we are not consumed, because his compassions fail not. They are new every morning: great is thy faithfulness. The LORD is my portion, saith my soul; therefore will I hope in him.”.
Creating Peace From the Pieces 