God is in our story...

God is immersed in our story. He is right in the middle of it. He cares. He listens. He might not take our pain away, but maybe without him our pain would be unbearable. I like to think he's immersed in the every day, the seminary journey, the infertility and every little detail, relationship, and journey of our lives. Today we went to Lake Nokomis Presbyterian church with a friend, sort of as part of an independent study class him and Joel and some others are taking this semester. Part of the worship service included passing around a small bowl of ashes from Ash Wednesday, dipping your finger in, and marking a spot of ashes on your palm. I thought of nail scarred hands. You can imagine ashes on the hand have the potential to be messy...and in situations like this I tend to make a mess! I had them on my palm, my jeans, every finger of my other hand! Oh goodness. But afterward, and after visiting with a few people, I looked down at the ashes and I noticed that they had filled in the lines of my palm and accented them. I instantly thought of the cross in this moment. And how Jesus fills every crevasse. This journey of infertility has so often found us deep in the midst of hopelessness, pain and brokenness. Jesus meets us in those moments. He surrounds us and fills every bit of the space that these things take up. It does get messy, and it does hurt, but it is also a journey we don't walk alone. God is part of this story.