The struggle is real y’all.
Committing to writing fightin’ words for 31 days illicit a challenge to, not only write, but to fight.
It has been quiet it here as I sought for words.
My words fail me, but His words have not.
Some of us may feel weary as this week and month comes to an end. Maybe the month of harvest did not produce much. Maybe you are looking for the fruit of your labor and all you see is slim pickins’.
Instead of baskets overflowing with fruit, you have a heart overflowing with discouragement.
Discouragement is a weed that can overtake your fields, your heart.
Joy is our weed killer. Joy is the hand that uproots discouragement.
May we stand like Habakkuk on the watchtower, looking for our Lord and say even if…..
17Though the fig tree should not blossom,
nor fruit be on the vines,
the produce of the olive fail
and the fields yield no food,
the flock be cut off from the fold
and there be no herd in the stalls,
18 yet I will rejoice in the Lord;
I will take joy in the God of my salvation.
19 God, the Lord, is my strength;
he makes my feet like the deer’s;
he makes me tread on my high places.
Even in times when life appears barren, yet we can rejoice in the Lord, the one who saves!
Them are fightin’ words.