As I blow the dust off this
keyboard I feel the ache in my chest.
Weary.
My heart is weary.
I could wait until I have a
pretty bow to tie this up for you, but…that just wouldn’t be real. And if there
is one thing I have been learning lately, it is that real human is exactly what I am.
And real human… well, human feels
real hard right now.
Every human has a story. Some of
you know pieces of mine.
The funny thing about sharing
one’s own human story, is that the story isn’t over yet. There is no grand conclusion yet. There is no happy ending yet.
There is no perfect resolution yet.
And for a major control freak and
minor perfectionist, that’s an uncomfortable realization.
I feel like God dipped his quill
in the ink and started writing on the pages of my heart again. Maybe He never
stopped, and I just quit paying attention. Either way, the theme of the story shifted
at some point into something that I know feels entirely too real and too raw to
put into words.
…So, like a real genius who
processes through writing, I’m taking a shot at it anyways.
Maybe I thought I had it figured
out. Maybe I thought I knew it all. Maybe I tried too hard. Maybe I didn’t try
hard enough. Maybe... it doesn’t matter anymore.
Because this is where I find
myself whether I want to be here or not.
Reality
just hurts sometimes.
Remember when you were little and
you collided with another kid on the playing field and got the wind knocked out
of you? Remember that feeling of sheer terror and helplessness as you stared
blankly at the blue sky and thought to yourself “BREATHE!”
Yep.
I think life knocked the wind out
of me.
Except life is much bigger than
the average 4th grader and breathing becomes harder when the blow
has reached your heart. Can anyone relate?
Just when you thought you were
catching your breath,
just when you thought you found traction,
just when you thought you were ready to get back in the ring to fight again,
another blow, and down you went.
just when you thought you found traction,
just when you thought you were ready to get back in the ring to fight again,
another blow, and down you went.
I’ve learned a lot of valuable
lessons down on the floor.
I
have yet to figure this one out.
In the middle of the mess,
In the middle of the pain,
In the middle of the I-don’t-know,
and the not-finished-yet…
In the middle of the pain,
In the middle of the I-don’t-know,
and the not-finished-yet…
“I need you to hold me.”
Curled up in the fetal position
in my car.
Trying to sleep on someone else’s
couch.
Leaning my head against the
bathroom wall.
Hold me.
Please don’t let me go! If I ever needed You,
it’s now. Abba, where are you? What am I doing? What have I done?
Hold me.
My brain is tired and I can’t hold on
anymore. I can’t make sense of this and I don’t care. I don’t even want to
figure it out and we both know that’s not normal.
Hold me.
My hands are shaking. My head is pounding.
The tears won’t come and then they won’t stop coming. I’m wide awake but so
very tired.
It just hurts.
He’s there.
I can’t hear Him. I can’t see
Him. I can’t even feel Him.
But He’s there.
He’s there as I lean my weary
head back, picturing myself held against His chest.
My Lord promised that He would not let me
go.
So this is where I will camp.
This is where I will stay. This is where I will hide until the storm passes by.
Because, human? Well, that’s what I am. And to be human
means that I desperately need to be held together by Someone greater than me.
Abba,
I can’t hold it together, I need You to hold
me.
There has been a whole lot of me
trying to wrestle my way out of His arms so that I can do it on my own. There’s
only one problem with that attempt:
I can’t do it on my own.
(It’s one of those floor life-lessons.)
When I finally cave,
when I finally let the walls start to crumble,
when I finally yield,
when I finally lower my boxing gloves…
when I finally let the walls start to crumble,
when I finally yield,
when I finally lower my boxing gloves…
I realize that it feels so good to be held.
That maybe, just maybe, being held is what this frightened soul needs
more than anything else.
More than figuring it out. More
than undoing the past. More than cleaning up the messes. More than fixing what
is broken. More than regaining control. More than obtaining victory.
Even more than mending the hurt.
Even more than mending the hurt.
Hold me.
I need You to hold me.
I can’t do this alone.
You designed this messy soul and know me
inside and out. You understand even when I don’t.
You love me. You’re here. You care.
You love me. You’re here. You care.
So, hold me tight against Your chest. Never
let me go.
When I push you away, when I forget your
Name, when I take a wrong turn, when my feelings ebb and flow...Abba, please
hold me and don’t let me go.
Whisper in my ear, remind me who I am. Take
me to that precious place where You’re my only love again. Wipe away the tears
or leave them streaming down my cheeks. I don’t care either way as long as you
hold me close.
I’ve chosen to trust You. Where else could I go?
I guess one beauty of the floor
is that there’s nowhere left to fall…so, it’s a good place to rest.
I’m asking God to love on me here
in a new way. I don’t want this human story to be wasted. Since I found myself
here, I want to get to know Him more here.
Not because I want to be here (I don’t), but because I just need to know Him more.
This chapter is requiring more of
me than the last one did, and since there is none of me that has anything left
to give, that means it’s requiring me to depend on more of HIM.
I don’t know what kind of page
you’re on in your story right now. I haven’t found a title for mine yet, come
to think of it. But if you can relate to any of this I just want to say: You’re
not alone.
You need to know that you’re not alone.
I need to know that I’m not alone.
It’s not always going to feel
this devastating and it’s not always going to feel this difficult. But maybe
right now, it just hurts.
And while you wait for the storm
to pass, whether it’s a week from now or 40 years down the road, will you join me?
Will you invite Him to hold you right
here? To love you right here?
I hope
you will.
Even as I stand with shaking hands, catching one breath at a time, trying to choose to let love win my heart, being held together by the same strong arms.
Praying lots for you right now.
ReplyDeleteThank you for blowing the dust off, Jo. This is precious and no- you are not alone. This encouraged my heart more than you could know.��
ReplyDelete