Sometimes I feel like a teeny, tiny girl who’s broken in a million, sharp-edged pieces scattered while the big me carries on full steam ahead, ship on course across open, fierce seas.
And when my thoughts turn into the wind and my feelings sink, rudder shuddering, I’m in for a wild ride.
Creaking and trembling as pressure reaches fever pitch.
Broiling and roiling, frothy with fear and a need — make that a want — to control people, places, things. Intensity of the current, and choices made, revealing the cracks below the hull, places that are leaking.
SOS sounding while waves crash wide and me in that moment narrow in love.
For God and others — yet there is plenty of selfish self-love even during momentary storms of self-pity, poor me.
And I remind myself that the enemy lies in my wake ever ready to fire shots across the bow.
And the things I hate — winters gray and gloomy too long in leaving or dreaded sleepless nights, the absolute bane of my existence when lies lay down with me covering in shadows deep — become tsunami-like and depth charge my love, peace shattered.
And the picture in pieces is not worth a thousand ugly words.
Woman wailing discontent with what God is allowing and I am a mess.
Forgetting that all things work for good and God is good and He desires to give His children good gifts and good gifts can come wrapped in discomfort and darkness. Instead of throwing away the gift with the crumpled paper all cranky I must humble in order to receive the blessing ribboned in pain.
Not fun. Not easy.
But submerged below the surface of what I see or experience is a gift more precious than gold.
Gift of holy fire.
Sent from above, it purifies at an inner level, peeling back the layers concealing secret sins or weeping wounds. Removing masks from little girls or boys brave and strong, showing the scared and hurting heart of a child precious and dear to the Father’s waiting heart.
And in His great patience and compassion He draws us close if we surrender our sturdy wills that have so long helped us survive our demons, or others’.
Coming dirty and drenched, muddy and lost, He calms the storm in us and washes our feet and we are one stroke closer to the shore where Love cooks fish over an open flame and hearts catch fire for fish yet to be caught.
And in the closeness of communion with the One who is the Christ, Son of the living God, we cast off sin that so easily entangles and are further reborn, more fully rebuilt, more deeply reassembled to better resemble our Creator in whose image we are made.
And in coming to Him and overcoming continuing to become.
Bow reaches across the deep, rain over and gone.
And chaos is birthed into beauty…
All our longings end in love
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