Yesterday as I prayed I asked Him why. In my mind's eye I saw a strong, iron box. And when He broke it open, out tumbled an almost-corpse. It was limp and pallid, having taken a translucent ghostly shade of skin, and barely breathing, white, for it had never seen the sun. It was Folded unto itself, unable to move or support itself, for it'd been cramped in extreme fetal position for ages like a bonsai kitten. (think gollum complexion plus dying aids patient.)

There was another box. Smaller. Only disembodied limbs of the same colour and condition fell out.

Grotesque as these things are I was not afraid for He was there. But I was not given understanding.

The deep rest I'd found in Him in all other areas hasn't been unseated. God's merely opened up more of the heart so it that rest might come even deeper. And though it's not happening now, because I have known His heart, I believe He will bring that about.

I remember the promise I made not merely to survive, but thrive. Anything is possible when I walk with Him.

But God will not minister.

Satan and sneers and says "where's your victory now?"

I have not gone looking for trouble. Neither do I hope for a gift more than for the Giver. In me there is a deep, deep, hunger for Him. Why do my dreams with recurring themes torment me with such intensity now? Why doesn't He want to deal with the root causes, which stare me in the eye? Rejection, from God, is the ultimate agony. To be honest I fight hard not to believe it.

If I cannot hope in Him what hope do I still have? If this is His hand that omits to remove me from affliction, and so commits it, what can I say? I am not angry--who am I to judge His ways? But if my God should turn His face from me, and I should be left to the devices of the enemy, then death has already begun, for there is no life without Him. ... and so I live like a man without hope.

I am caught in a dilemma. while knowing no hope for myself, I hold it out so for others. I still believe He loves everybody else. And I grudge Him not. Who am I to question what He is doing? Shall it not be as He desires? If I love Him, shall I not willingly endure all things as it pleases Him to heap upon me? Is it not enough that He gave Jesus Christ for me? And yet, why is the heart unable to appreciate this?

There is only deep sorrow. But I will still have this consolation--my joy in unrelenting pain--that I had not denied the words of the Holy One. God is good. I believe it. God be praised.

So Satan, you ask the wrong question.

You should be asking "Where's your victory?", leave out "now".

For it is never a matter of "now". The victory has already been won. I simply live to see it.

God has no answers for me... not that there aren't any, but that it isn't time.