My Best Comfort

I love photographs of old barns.

And snow.

They bring a sense of comfort and warmth, a soothing "aaah" to the soul. But the moment I close my lap top and exit off of my Pinterest files, reality hits me square. I try to milk in vain every last drop of goodness and peace from the temporal, even believing that looking and listening to only the "positive" is some sort of salve for my trials in this fallen world. But I am deluded.

With the last lingering effects of my smaller affliction, Vertigo, I think back over this week. What brought me the most comfort? Joy for my soul? Wasn't it the truth about Christ and what He has done for me? His love that I rested in bits and pieces of laying on the couch with my head a whirl.

This Christ. This Savior. His blood so perfect, shed for me. That love drew me to the deepest comfort my soul could ever know. So I pause and mark down what Jesus is reminding me of afresh, because there will be more trials ahead. I'm sure of it. And no greater comfort is there in all the world than the precious truth that Jesus came to seek and save the lost.

"There is a war going on. All talk of a Christian's right to live luxuriously "as a child of the King" in this atmosphere sounds hollow - especially since the King himself is stripped for battle" - John Piper