I have thought about writing several times in the past few months.
But my heart said, No.
I’m not ready.
It’s been too long, my “Editor” side said. Get busy.
No. I’m not ready.
There’s been a lot going on!!! What great source material. You might forget it all. Wouldn’t want that! That’s my author-side calling.
No, my heart said. I’m just not ready.
SIGH, my fingers wiggled, anxious to type again.
No, my heart said. It’s not time.
Much like the Song of Solomon croons, “Wait, do not awaken love until it so desires,” my heart cried out for more waiting. My heart did not desire to go there: to think, to recover, to feel… Recovery is arduous. It needs a foundation of good rest and healing.
So I did not pick up my journal. I laid down my pen. I put them away where they could get dusty.
I did not open the writing programs on my computer.
I had to wait, because if I poured out my heart before God met me there, it would seem almost false… as though I am putting a tiny bandaid on a perforation the inner self.
“For the Lord God, the Holy One of Israel, says: Only in returning to me and waiting for me will you be saved; in quietness and confidence is your strength…” Isaiah 30:15 (TLB)
I did not desire to indulge those wretched emotions, but in humanity and trust I instead shared my broken weeping with Christ alone. My own rugged and arduous garden of wretched sweat and prayer.
And there, have I been met by none other than our very Lord. Meeting my faithlessness with a comforting embrace. Receiving my tears in a precious vial. Mingling them with His, in that very holy fountain of His own sorrow. Sharing each stab of pain. Meeting and teaching me as only He can. Giving me new hope, new dreams, new understandings of things. And what is this? Joy? Wow…
Thank you, Lord, for stripping our relationship down to the bare roots of Your unconditional love. What a gift it has truly been!
In my personal experience… there are a couple parts of hurting. One is waiting to hear from God. Will He speak? Does He care? I have failed! It’s my fault! Or, It’s not my fault! This is terrible and God allowed this. Will He change these circumstances?
The second part of hurting is the vulnerability we experience when we step away from that tiny space of intense communion with God before we are healed up (which sometimes must happen due to the demands of life –jobs, children, you name it). Oh, how painful! Perhaps we just want to curl up and be loved… Perhaps we have nothing to give. Or, perhaps the outside world is untrustworthy.
When our wounds are openly bleeding, they need a safe, tranquil, supportive, and clean place to heal… it is better to avoid whatever slime or sewage the world can thoughtlessly throw at you without even realizing it. It’s good to take a break. God is so good, to be a safe place. A thin space… where our sorrow can be soothed by His utter compassion and fathomless hope. Only those most trusted friends are allowed to visit us there, and then, I find quick visits are best. Sometimes, even they might fail, and it is God alone who sits quietly by our side.
So now — I find a slow dawn melting my frosty landscape. On this dark morning, I find a quiet glow. My heart is ready. I might need a warm blanket and some fuzzy socks, but I am ready. It’s not excruciating to think of relating to anyone else what treasures I see in my life after all the mess. My ponderings can be released, from being between God and me, in that most sacred inner place… to being shared openly.
For those who want to read, maybe these thoughts will be a warm balm to your heart, if you are also hurting. I believe, and trust, and celebrate, that God has encouragement for you, too.
Anyway…. May God himself be your comfort, if you are hurting… you have my prayers right now for God’s rich comfort and tangible embrace.
Thanks for reading, Friends.