Boldly (John 7:26)

I knock on her door with my elbow as my hands are full of baby paraphernalia.  Her grandson is coming to visit for a few days and she is so excited.  But as she gets off the couch to help me bring in the toys to borrow, I see her posture and with only a fraction of a second of hesitation she is crying in my arms.  Tears uncontrollable, words unintelligible, pain undeniable, questions unanswerable, decisions unavoidable, life unbearable.

And Your incongruent truth marches into my line of vision as my eyes take in Your word.  He speaks boldly it says, claiming what I cannot see.  On my front steps, the flow of tears more like a trickle now, the story comes out in fragments overlapping.  She cries out in desperation, and I can't help but wonder along with her, why don't You answer?  Why don't You show her the way?  Why don't You heal or solve problems or give solutions?

He speaks boldly, it says in the left-hand column and I underline the words in orange.

She wants so badly for You to speak audibly.  To speak knowingly and helpfully to their needs.  To speak comfortingly and personally to her crushed spirit.

I want it too.

But You speak boldly.  You speak truths that don't look true from here.  That don't feel true right now.  And my first instinct is to doubt, or make excuses, or pray caveats to let You off the hook.

But You speak boldly and eliminate the option of playing it safe.  So the risk is high, yet all of my soul wants to try.

You speak boldly and I will choose to believe You are who You say You are, even in circumstances that beg to differ.  You speak boldly and I will praise You for who You say You are, trusting that one day here or There.

You speak boldly.  May my words reflect that.