the closing of my eyelids is my escape.
where i need not think or process the stuff that i ought to.
it is so difficult sometimes to discern what one is to do.
or to say.
the heart is deceitful above all things.
it is beyond cure. who can understand it?
and i mislead myself. all. the. time.
i have faults that i am not aware of.
my heart hides and disguises destruction so well.
but no one likes to discover their brokenness.
especially if they have convinced themselves that all was right and good.
and whole.
i hate that i cannot understand myself the way others understand themselves.
sometimes i am overwhelmed with pure assurance. sheer security.
but it is a vapor.
and i cry.
but most of the time i stop myself.
but right now i can't.
and it's this hollow unproductive sadness and disappointment.
with no resolution in sight.
it's just that i am so broken.
and don't even know where to start.
i am so glad He came. and i know He is present. and real. and alive.
and abounding in love and mercy.
but i don't even know where to start.
He comes with light.
and i desire an outbreak of this very light in my thinking.
in the movings of my heart.
to expose the things hid. the things quivering with fright.
that they would be made visible. so that my true nature i can see.
and so that this kind Savior, who remembers that i am dust, may quiet my stammering and stuttering anxieties with love. a love that i do not understand and feel unworthy to receive.
but he calls me beloved.
worth love.
i am so glad He came.
even though i am scared. and broken.
i am so glad He came.
because He makes all things new. and whole.
good news. good news.
this is my joy. my song in the night.
i am so glad He came.
1 comment:
So... I don't know you. and you don't know me. I found your blog through a series of blog stalkings and I loved it so much I just keep coming back. I hope you are alright with that. But this post just felt so familiar to me that I had to tell you about a book that is somehow associated in my mind with all the feelings you so perfectly painted in words. Its called Confronting the Myth of Self-Esteem by Ester Rasband. I don't know that the two should be so associated, but they are. And in any case, its a book that every one should read. Its out of print, so you would probably have to find it online (or ask Emily of Sweat, Tears or the Sea [my cousin... which is how I came across your blog in the first place]to borrow it). Well anyways.... Happy living from some random person in the world who thinks well of you.
Post a Comment