i'm up before the alarm again. night is turning into day, and it seems as if words brewing are ready to spill. so i get up and defy the hour on my phone and make the coffee and settle in to wait.
because that's what spilling-out means, right? waiting for the words to fall?
i've reflected a lot over the past few days. the day before the new year, my word came rushing forward, demanding for attention. i paid my respects - sat still though i wanted to run - and let Truth wash over me.
but more on this later.
right now, i'm overcome. how do you juggle the weight of glory and brokenness?
my friend says all life begins in the dark. a tree grows down into the earth before shooting towards the sun and i'm thankful for these words because i need them.
and then, within the same breath, the same space of a moment, another reminds me that growth comes in abiding. if we yank a tree out of the ground because we’re afraid it will get battered in the storm, it will never grow roots or branches strong enough to weather even the smallest wind. if we allow it to abide in the dirt and the wind, it will grow strong.
a year ago, i sat shaking with a friend who held my hand through some of my darkest moments. i couldn't even spit the words out - couldn't even admit that i couldn't trust Him because i didn't want to - this wasn't how good Christian women were supposed to feel. how could i put into words the fear of pain - the confusion on Him being for me even when the storm winds howled and beat against my heart?
even when it was Him who called - not calmed - the storm? what happens then? how do you believe in Love when your whole life you've feared the perpetual other fist falling hard and crushing what's left of the brokenness?
and so i battled. i held tight my heart cause she'd been hurt too many times before, and i raged and cried and slammed my fists against His chest because really? how can i want to be so close to You but fear the touch of Your hand?
now, months later, i sit in wonder. i don't even recognize that shaky girl.
...but i'm learning to love her all the same.
look around you. it's only two days into the new year and people everywhere are talking about forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead. i don't agree. if i've learned anything this year, it's the opposite.
your story - my story - rests in the quiet whispers of the past. to forget means to dismiss. it means a letting go of - a denial. you forget your keys, your wallet, your glasses.
you do not forget your pain.
and i'm learning this is good. it's healing. without brokenness - without a ripping open - we would not know Love. because it's Love that comes and sits with us when we open our eyes to the mess around us. it's Love that comes and wipes the tears - placing them in a sacred space never to be forgotten. it's Love that stands with us, ripped open wide with us, and knows the searing pain of healing.
the only thing Love ever denied was shame.
and so i sit, waiting. but this time, it's not for the other fist to fall. this time, i know He holds me regardless of my fears. so i settle in and get to know the grooves of His hand. i have a feeling i may be here for awhile.