He Restores My Soul

He Restores My Soul riving up the steep, curvy gravel road, I asked the Lord to meet me on the mountain. > After a season of intense trial, 1 needed time alone and the peace and comfort and restoration that can come only through Him. After breaking my right foot in early spring, I’d been unable to walk or drive for ten weeks.

As my world shrunk to four walls, the days crawled by. Satan didn’t waste this opportunity, this time of weakness and dis- couragement, to attack. Life delivered another blow when a crisis arose in my marriage that threatened to break my spirit, my very soul.

Each time I returned to the doctor for check-ups and x-rays, the news was the same. “Why aren’t your bones healing?” the doctor finally asked, as if I were the doctor and he the patient.

I shrugged as if I didn’t know, but inside I suspected the reason had something to do with my heart. “Why isn’t my heart healing?” I cried out to the Lord. I felt so helpless.

I felt so alone. I felt so wounded. The words that usually poured from my heart onto the page ceased. This had never happened to me before.

Ten weeks after the fall that broke my foot, I returned to the doctor for yet another x-ray. With the report in hand and a smile on his face, he walked into the room and delivered the wonderful news—the bones had healed. Even though my foot was tender and painful to walk on, I enjoyed every step I took. I enjoyed getting into my car and driving once again.

My foot had been restored. But my broken heart—that was another story.

I’d come to realize what went into healing a broken bone: having it set, a cast, crutches, pain pills, and visits to the doctor. It took ten weeks for my broken bones to heal. How long, if ever, would it take my heart, broken by betrayal, to heal? What will it take to heal my spirit?

1 agonized. Reading God’s Word? Praying? Believing?

Acceptance of what I can’t change? Desperately needing to get away, I made a reservation for a few days at Pilot Knob Inn. I merely hoped to find peace and a little restoration, thinking my broken spirit couldn’t be repaired in one short weekend. I arrived at the tobacco barn cabin, unpacked my bag, and lay down for a nap.

As I closed my eyes, sleep didn’t come—prayers did. I cried out to the Lord and began to feel His mighty pres- ence. The room was dark because the view from the small window was obscured by trees. Suddenly, an intense light forced my eyes open.

I hadn’t seen any opening in the leaves but God allowed the sun to break through and flood not only my face but my heart. I shielded my face from the bright light and felt that I, like Moses, had seen the goodness of the Lord pass by me. What will it take to heal my spirit? ‘d agonized.

The answers that came to me were exactly what the Lord would have me do. Throughout the weekend, I was drawn to God’s word and read Scripture that I’d highlighted while going through previous trials. I read all the verses I could find pertaining to healing. I prayed as the Lord continued to _ turn each nap time into prayer time.

I came to believe in a way that I never had before in the mighty power and sustaining grace of our Savior. And I came to understand that I must accept what I cannot change. As I packed my car to return home, I realized how little faith ’’d had in our God. I’d asked the Lord to meet me on the mountain and He had done so.

I asked him for a little peace and restoration. God gave me His peace and healed my bro- ken spirit. I returned home to the same marital problems I’d left behind, only now, by His grace, I knew I could handle them. The Lord restored my soul.