Though I have felt his heavy hand, it has never been His anger against me. Rather, it is the equivalent of me running into a concrete wall over and over and over again, then finally noticing that I’m sore and bruised and deciding I don’t really want to do that anymore. He has not changed. But I have. And when I awaken to His unmoving, sovereign goodness, when I agree with that, I begin to bless the bruises, for they have in fact helped bring me to my senses.
