when your heart knows.

I'm sitting in a closet. I can feel the quickening of breath - the avoidance of the hanging clothes in front of me, the knowledge of the playard next to me, the emptiness of the room around me.

This would have been our nursery - her nursery.

I'm beginning to swallow the weight of our adoption falling through - letting it sink in deep with other disappointments. My heart's been unhappy lately, namely because I'm ignoring her as best I can. It can be too much at times. She can be too much at times - clanging away inside, banging against my bones and demanding attention - when all I really want is silence.

How can one separate her fear of a manipulative God, however non-existent, with the reality of life falling apart around her? God wants to give us good things? He does?

Then why do I feel as if everything has been taken away?

And I don't need the story of Job, because I know it. I don't need the but God is good, because I've experienced it.

I'm just so tired of questions. I'm tired of dodging conversation because I don't want to admit how scared I am in this moment - how much I want to channel a spoken-word poet and spit these emotions out-out-OUT in a rhythm that matches the pulsing in my chest because it hurts. It hurts, dammit.

And I stop short of clawing at this skin because there's just so many triggers - so many ways to hide - so many lies.

But I cling to Hope because it's the only thing I know and even when that crashes I scratch through the dirt to find the pieces of what's left.

Will you rest in Me? 

He asks me this - reminds me to abide - whispers that He misses me, and the pain just keeps pulsing and my fingers keep on clawing and I keep on running into another brick wall, my heart in pieces and my forehead bruised.

And each time, I fall in His arms.

Oh daughter. Have I not always provided for you? 

And in my reluctant answer, He smiles - then what makes you think this would be any different?


It's become my four-letter word :: ripe and scary and messier than I imagined. But what other choice do I have but to risk it all on Him?

The rattling in my bones softens - my heart finally safe in the arms of her Father. It's where she wanted to be all along.

Posted on October 18, 2012 and filed under abide.