Kathy Nimmer (guidedogjourney) wrote,
  • Mood: sad
  • Music: Elias

Isaiah

This Sunday at church, I read Isaiah 55: 1-9. I'd wanted to memorize it the way I did the first time I did the Bible reading at church, but the events of the week left no possibility of that. My thoughts were filled with the triumph of the Purdue event going well but also and more powerfully the tragedy of over 150 teachers in my corporation receiving notices that their jobs very well might not be theirs next year. This included at least 35 in my own school and 6 in my own department. As I stood at the front of the church, after Elias guided me flawlessly up the stairs to the altar, my fingers glided over the dots, my voice heavy with the tension and sorrow of the events at school. I have always loved the book of Isaiah, ever since several passages found their permanent way into my heart in college when my vision took a major dive. This Sunday, I let another piece of Isaiah into my heart: "My thoughts are not your thoughts, and your ways are not my ways. Just as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts higher than your thoughts." I paused there and pondered. I paused there and blinked away a tear of gratitude. It is wonderful that God already knows the answers to turmoil and uncertainty. It is wonderful that He has purposes that we can trust, even if we never understand them here on earth. I wonder if we'll understand in heaven, or if it just won't matter anymore. Thank goodness that His ways are not our ways: hurting each other, devaluing each other, criticizing each other, pointing fingers at each other. Thank goodness our God's ways are different than that! Also, His thoughts are different than ours. Mine right now? I'm exhausted, shaky, battered from a cruel e-mail in response to a guest column I wrote for the local paper to explain where my colleagues were in all of this strife, unsure about what next year will look like, partly guilty for being grateful my job is being spared while younger teachers with babies and little savings will likely be jobless. Those are my thoughts, but Isaiah is tapping at my heart's door again as Elias sighs and whimpers in his sleep. Isaiah reminds me whose thoughts and ways are higher: mine or the Lord's. No comparison there, so I hit "submit" and go lay myself down to rest for another day on this earth.
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