When the worship clots in your throat

My husband came home from the ICU, showered, and drove us to church. On the way he shared a story about a boy now on the unit. In an instant everything can change. In one moment normal can be shattered, reality forever remade. If he lives, this boy will not walk again. Machines will breathe for him, eat for him, think for him.

And with that swirling in my consciousness, we entered a worship service. The songs today were:

"You are wonderful, You are Wonderful
Oh God, there is no one more Wonderful."

and

"It is well with my soul."

and

"Sing a new song
To Him who sits on
heaven's mercy seat."

When it comes to suffering, blame, and questioning I feel like God's champion. I believe without question because I have seen without fail that He is sovereign, good, and overflowing in grace. I have every answer to every question that demands "WHY!?" Salvation, faith, and hope forged in the fires, acids, and pressure of a dark world declare daily to my soul that it is well, that He is wonderful, that He always sits upon a seat of mercy.

But there is a boy in the hospital. And it was hard this morning not to choke on His praise.

Knowledge of God is all we have in a life that feels horribly unfair. When the torrent of emotion, and the flash flood of anger, and the waves of sentiment threaten to drown us; it is the knowledge of God that grows only stronger under our feet. Loving God has nothing to do with feeling love; it has everything to do with knowing Him. In knowledge we find trust. Who could doubt a God so good, so wise, so powerful, so concerned with me, and my children, and my church, and a boy who will not walk again? I don't feel like worshipping. But I know. And so I do.

"Though He slay me, yet I will trust Him." Job