A DARKENED ROOM

About a week ago, I had to have a medical test done.

I was scared.

Not so much of the test, but of the *waiting for results* and then the *what if it's serious* routine.

After some waiting, the technician called me into the imaging room. She told me they were still running a little behind, and she would be back to start the test in about 10 minutes.

Then she left.

I was now alone, in a very cold and darkened room.

Nervous.

Frightened.

In pain.

I prayed.

I told the Lord that I felt very small. And then I told Him that it was just me and Him in that room together. Just the two of us. Alone.

Just like it had been when I came into the world.

I realized that I had entered this world with nothing really. Just me. My body, my mind, my heart, and my soul. And here I was, almost 58 years later, with nothing really. Just me.

But oh, how I am NOT alone!

I had such a sense of Jesus, that He was literally cradling me as tenderly and closely as He had when I was born. And I felt loved.

We have many things and people that surround us, yes. In our years here on earth, we go many places and have all sorts of experiences. But when it all comes down to it, it's really just each individual person and the Lord.

What to do with Jesus?

That's the eternal question – the only question that matters.

I have answered that one. He's my Savior.

And in that darkened room, I had a physical sense of what it feels like to be His child. It was quiet, and still. And as I talked out loud to Him, I could tell He was so very close. I actually tried to picture Him walking into the room…

The door opened, and in walked a rather nondescript man in a loose white robe and dirty, weather-beaten sandals. He quietly moved over to the table. His eyes were tender and kind, riveted on mine. He put one scarred hand on my shoulder, and the other one on my forehead. And He listened…intently…to my every word.

I quoted Scripture, and He murmured, "Yes, My child. That promise is true. And that one, too."

His eyes glistened with tears.

I didn't get the sense that He was sad, really. Maybe sad for the fallen state of His once-perfect world. But His tears were tears of love. For me. And I could tell that He was moved by my love for Him.

He spoke again.

"Sharon, dear Sharon. I have held your hand before it was even formed. I will hold it for eternity. I have called you by name, you are Mine. And I will never leave you nor forsake you. Take heart, don't be afraid. I am here."

Yes, He was.

And in that darkened room, all alone with Jesus, I quoted Romans 8:38-39, personalizing it just for me:

"And I am convinced that nothing can ever separate ME from God's love. Neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither my fears for today nor my worries about tomorrow – not even the powers of hell can separate ME from God's love. No power in the sky above or in the earth below – indeed, nothing in ALL creation will EVER be able to separate ME from the love of God that is revealed in Christ Jesus MY Lord."

I felt the Lord squeeze my hand, and the technician walked in.

"Are we ready?" she asked.

"Yes," I answered. "WE’RE ready, my Lord and me."

Alone, but never alone.

Nothing really but just me –

And a Love that promises that NOTHING will come between His heart and mine.

What do you do when you feel all alone?

(SIDENOTE: My test results were normal, and I am praising the Lord for that!)

***I am linked today with Joan for "SHARING HIS BEAUTY" - C'mon over!

BLOG = "Blessedly Leaning On God!"