"Seeming"

Kezzia plopped onto the couch. I huddled deeper into my blanket. She read, I listened.

"Seeming desertion is the furnace, heated 7 times, to try our faith."

Stop. Right there.

I don't want to be deserted. Abandoned. Alone. I hate being alone.

And yet, I'm being told it will happen. I know it DOES happen. And it hurts. No. Stop. I don't like this...

Silence.

"Seeming." Therefore, it's not actual.

"Try." Therefore, not cruelty. A test.

"Faith." Therefore, not man... But God.

Therefore, it's okay.

After all, His wasn't seeming: it was actual. It wasn't just a test: it was death. And it wasn't just God: it was man, the devil, the demons, the weight of a race of sinners.

And yet, it was okay.

His was substance that mine might be a shadow.

Therefore, my furnace becomes His glory.

My pain, His triumph.

My heartbreak, His healing.

My life... His reward.

"Seeming."

Not actual.

Never... No, never...alone.