The thing I love most about this story is when Angie goes to Audrey’s grave and reads Psalm 147. Let’s take a look at what that says
Praise the Lord! For it is good to sing praises to our God; for it is pleasant, and a song of praise is fitting. The Lord builds up Jerusalem; he gathers the outcasts of Israel. He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds. He determines the number of the stars; he gives to all of them their names. Great is our Lord, and abundant in power; his understanding is beyond measure. The Lord lifts up the humble; he casts the wicked to the ground.
As someone who is engaged and looking into my future, the idea of losing one of my children is perhaps one of the scariest things I can fathom–and I am not even a mother yet! I spend lots of my time praying for my future children, imagining what they will be like, what they will look like, what their relationship with The Lord will look like, and the list goes on. I imagine all these things with the knowledge that my dreams of future children could be ripped away from me in an instant or never even granted to me. How do I respond to that though? I ignore it. I push the idea that God could give me that thorn. I move on with my day.
This idea can be applied to almost any one of the dreams I have laid out for myself. My fiance could be taken, my dream job could never come to pass, or my life could even be ripped out from under me. But my Jesus is still the same. His power is made perfect in all I cannot control.
Angie’s story is a prime example where a child of God is praising Him in the midst of a thorn. She could have thrown up her fists at Jesus and hated Him for taking away what she thought was hers. She could have turned away from Him in front of her kids and lived in the midst of her anger. Yet she simply took a breath, said “My Jesus is still the same”, and continued walking forward. She knew that walk would hurt. She also knew that The Lord would show Himself along the way. She chose to glorify Him rather than extol herself. She chose to hold her arms wide open, even though her daughter was resting in them.
More than any of that, she chose to give thanks to God while doing so. I am not saying that Angie Smith is perfect. She is a human just like the rest of us. But because The Living God is residing inside her, she was given the strength to praise God through the midst of her thorn.
So here are some of the questions I want us to consider: Is the Living God residing in my? If he is, am I actively holding my arms open to Him? And if I am, am I giving Him thanks while doing so?