The aftertaste of sorrow lingers. Still existent but no longer all consumed by its grip I manage to gasp for breath. Moments at a time, life begins its return. Coffee with a friend, here. Date with my husband, there. An unforced smile manages to break through on occasion. The thickness of grief prevented it before. But Light has broken and darkness is not so black as it was. Deep gashes and slashes in the soul begin to merge together again. Because this place is not foreign to me, I have confidence that time will heal. First one step, then another, each stronger than the one before. Though a sense of “why” may never be made, purpose will be found. He promises it. I trust. It’s faint, but there. This pain will be a gift.
God heals
When Surrender leads to Victory!
StandardMatthew 26:39 “Going a little farther, he fell with his face to the ground and prayed, “My Father, if it is possible, may this cup be taken from me. Yet not as I will, but as you will.”
More times than I can count, I have asked God to “take this cup from me.” Change my path, decrease my burden, ease my suffering. No rest for the weary as the saying goes.
I find solace in the fact that, even Jesus, bowed before His father and begged him, not once, or even twice, but three times, to change the plan, redirect the path he was to tread. (Matt 26:44 “So he left them and went away once more and prayed the third time, saying the same thing.”)
Lessons from my 15 Year Old Daughter!
StandardFrayed edges, stained center (outdated by American standards,) the throw rug beneath displayed the wear of many feet that had paced before me. Arms crossed and tucked in close, not for the chill in the enclosed concrete room, but an effort to contain the emotions with in me. My third child, escorted by a dark haired woman in a floral smock, was delivered.
Subtle Lies that Haunt Us!
StandardThe tone of the tall grass merges with the dirty yellow of his mane. No movement, no sound. None are aware of his presence. He observes. A moment of weakness rises as one prey lets his guard down. Predator edges closer. No cracking of dry grass beneath his feet warns imminent danger lurks. The prey, oblivious to his surroundings, is hit as predator leaps to attack. He never saw it coming.
I relate to the prey, often unaware that a beast hides in the shadows. He detects, more than I, my vulnerability and my doubt. He waits for it, then feeds on it.
HIS Hand Reached Out for Me!
StandardDAY 26 (Read Day 1 “OK, Honey. Challenge Accepted!” Post)
Air heavy with chill, weighted darkness, a child afraid
Naively innocent, need of love, was I to blame
How was I to know, how could I have seen
The pain that he would cause, when his hand reached out for me.
Years lapse by, tears uninterrupted, never I could find
Unadulterated love for my trust to hide behind
How could he not know, why could he not see
He would shred my soul when his hand reached out for me
Can I be made whole, Is there hope for me
Do you see me hiding here
Absent then, absent now,
Another turned eye is what I fear
Surging shame, disgrace unlimited, it’s all I have known
Till a prayerful plea, I unleash, “God, please save my soul”
How was I to know, How could I have seen
There’d be healing power when His hand reached out for me
I am healed
I am free
Cause HIS hand reached out for me
When Wounds Run Deep!
StandardDAY 19 (Read Day 1 “OK, Honey. Challenge Accepted!” Post)
“He is definitely sucking his finger,” the dermatologist demanded as he rolled his eyes and wrote something in the chart.
“I am fully aware that you are the professional,” I begin. Jaw tightened and eyes narrowed I continued, “however, for the 1000th time, I am telling you, my son has never…sucked…his fingers.” A slammed door behind me, determination erupted to prove this quack wrong.
Journey of Emotions! 