through God’s inspecting hand. It’s an unwelcome guest, but still a guest. I know that it drives me to a nearer, more intimate place of fellowship with Jesus, and so I take pain as though I were taking the left hand of God. (Better the left hand than no hand at all.) Perhaps the simple realization of something so redemptive is healing enough. I don’t know when this season of pain will be over. Maybe, in God’s grace and wisdom, He’ll say, “Enough!” and banish the pain within the hour. Or maybe He’ll say, “Enough!” allowing me to step out of this long-disabled, deteriorating temporary housing
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