Following the Fad

So as I'm sure you can tell from my posts so far I am not a good Blogger. However blogging seems to picking up steam among my friends and I figured "Hey why not try again." So here I am months from my last post, don't get your hopes up because I may not post again for another 7 months :) I like reading friend's Blogs because it wouldn't be a stretch to say that I'm straight up nosy I want to know where people are, what they're doing, how their lives are going. I've told people in the past I stalk because I care :)

These past few months since my last Blog have been a whirlwind. There have been exceedingly good times and times when it's seemed like the world was crashing down at my feet. Through it all though my thoughts and emotions have gone to every extreme there has been one constant, the Lord. Though sometimes His presence has seemed distant and out of reach He is still as the Psalmist writes "An ever present help in time of trouble."

Here's a passage from the book this Blog was named for that has helped me really consider the reality of God's Love. It come at a point when Katy (the writer) has been struggling with a tremendous heart break and goes to see her Pastor (Dr Cabot) not even knowing why she goes:

"I am very glad to see you, my dear child," he said.
I had intended to be very dignified and cold. As if I was going to have any Dr Cabots undertaking to sympathize with me! But those few kind words just upset me and I began to cry.
"You would not speak so kindly," I got out at last, "if you knew what a dreadful creature I am. I am angry with myself, and angry with everybody, and angry with God. I can't be good two minutes at a time. I do everything I do not want to do, and do nothing I try and pray to do. Everybody plagues me and tempts me. And God does not answer any of my prayers and I am just desperate."
"Poor child!" he said, in a low voice, as if to himself. "Poor, heart-sick, tired child, that cannot see what I can see, that it's Father's loving arms are all about it!"
I stopped crying, to strain my ears to listen. He went on-
"Katy, all that you say may be true. I daresay it is. But God loves you. He loves you."
"He loves me," I repeated to myself. "He loves me. Oh, Dr Cabot, if I could believe that! If I could believe that after all the promises I have broken, all the foolish, wrong things I have done, and shall always be doing, God perhaps still loves me!"
"You may be sure of it," he said solemnly. "I, his minister, bring the gospel to you today. Go home and say over and over to yourself, 'I am a wayward, foolish child. But He loves me! I have disobeyed and grieved Him ten thousand times. But He loves me! I have lost faith in some of my dearest freinds and am very desolate. But He loves me! I do not love Him, I am even angry with Him! But He loves me!"
I came away, and all the way home I fought this battle with myself, saying, "He loves me!" I knelt down to pray, and all my wasted, childish, wicked life came and stared me in the face. I looked at it, and said with tears of joy "But He loves me!" Never in my life did I feel so rested, so quieted, so sorrowful, and yet so satidfied."