There is no magic fairy dust

When Cinderella needed to have her rags exchanged for a gown her fairy godmother took the wand and with the will of a whisk and a little fairy dust the transformation took place. I have rags that clothe my soul, rags of anger and bitterness. I am praying but I'm not seeing any fairy dust.

Sometimes I am haunted by things that anger and embitter me. Sometimes those things are big like the gashes of a knife sometimes they are small like the bite of a flea on a hot Summer's night. Big or small the effect seems the same. My soul is stained with hurt like fingers stained from berry picking.

It's been like that for me all week. Past wounds, present wounds, wounds intentionally given, wounds unintentionally given going round and round inside my head. But something else is taking place too. Prayer.
I don't want to be angry I don't want to be bitter so I've been praying. But I haven't experienced any fairy dust yet.

I did decide to memorize Psalm 119. I keep deciding to memorize Psalm 119 without success. This time I thought I'd start with verses 153 to 160. I am glad that God chooses the dull and not to bright to be His children because otherwise I'd have no hope at all. I have spent this whole week on two verses. I repeat them in my head and then I forget them . If only I could forget these tormenting thoughts as easily as I can forget God's word.

Yet, as I go back to these verses again and again they are the bases of my prayer. "Look upon my suffering and rescue me, for I have not forgotten your instruction. Argue my case; take my side! Protect my life like you promised." There is no fairy dust but living in this broken world and calling on my Savior something is happening. There is a change in the direction of my thoughts.

I wonder, could it be that this might be abiding? Could it be that because there has been no instant relief that it has caused me to long for Him at night and in the morning to yearn for my Redeemer? With my weak mind I cling to His strong words. With my feeble clutching I find I am being held in a strong grip of grace. Could this be what Jesus was talking about when he said for me to abide in Him and He would abide in me?

At first this week all I could think about was the hurt, the disappointment, the things I wanted to change but couldn't. Truly, I wanted some magic answer to my prayer that would take away the stain of disappointment in my soul. What God gave me was a struggle that brought me to Him. I feel the light of His presences taking residence within me. Abiding yes, yes this is abiding!

There is no magic fairy dust but I think the abiding will bear  fruit!