Much of the activity I have been pursuing has been purely mental. Deep thoughts and renderings of my psyche. The conclusion that I seem to have drawn is that I have the capacity to be dark. Very dark. I can linger for hours or days on a singularly depressing topic, and chew it like gristle until it has lost all flavor and texture. I can delve into my own emotions and come back feeling as if I have lingered at the gates of hell itself.
I wonder. I wonder about my testimony, my worth and my desires. I wonder about how the world perceives me, and receives me.
I wonder about my future, my iniquities and my capacity to love.
I feel lonely, as though stuck in a spiritual 'middle class'.
I don't often feel as special and desired as the Truth proclaims me to be.
I feel left-out, passed over, and rejected.
I cry out in the flesh, for some attention. For tangible love from a God in Heaven. Why can't I just get a hug? Why do I feel like I cannot be the authentic version of myself, that I long to be? Why do I feel as though no one wants to hear of these dark cesspools of emotion swirling inside me, looking only for the 'all's well' smile?
The Holy Spirit is the only good thing shining in me, through me. My backstory is bleak.
Why must I rush forth to a hurting woman and offer the love of Christ, but people seem to run - no, sprint away from me at the first sign of tears?
Why must emotions be so hard to reign in, handle, and contain?
Why must hormones be the undoing of a seemingly sane woman?
Sssshhhhh..... do you hear that? That was me sighing with disgust. At myself. At a Babylonian world. At people falling prey to the schemes of the devil, himself. At the thought of publishing this post, not knowing if it even matters, anyways. Tomorrow is another day, right? It offers with it another chance to lie through my teeth about how "good" I am doing and about how "great" life is.
I am struck with conviction about my own strength.
God, did I not cry out to You for Your supernatural strength? Did I not fall on my face and beg for the ability to bare this infliction of the flesh?
I did.
You are so Faithful.
How can I be so blessed with minimal pain in my body, and wonder why people do not ask to help me? How can I have this God-given, amazing recovery, and not be joyously praising Him? How can I be healing so beautifully and wonder why no one asks me how I am? Do they have more faith in You than I do, Lord? I repent of my lack of faith. Forgive me my sins, Abba. Restore me, Father, to my place free from shame and disgrace. Pour out Your love on me, that I may glorify You in all the world.
In Christ's Redeeming Name I pray.
Amen.
I wonder. I wonder about my testimony, my worth and my desires. I wonder about how the world perceives me, and receives me.
I wonder about my future, my iniquities and my capacity to love.
I feel lonely, as though stuck in a spiritual 'middle class'.
I don't often feel as special and desired as the Truth proclaims me to be.
I feel left-out, passed over, and rejected.
I cry out in the flesh, for some attention. For tangible love from a God in Heaven. Why can't I just get a hug? Why do I feel like I cannot be the authentic version of myself, that I long to be? Why do I feel as though no one wants to hear of these dark cesspools of emotion swirling inside me, looking only for the 'all's well' smile?
The Holy Spirit is the only good thing shining in me, through me. My backstory is bleak.
Why must I rush forth to a hurting woman and offer the love of Christ, but people seem to run - no, sprint away from me at the first sign of tears?
Why must emotions be so hard to reign in, handle, and contain?
Why must hormones be the undoing of a seemingly sane woman?
Sssshhhhh..... do you hear that? That was me sighing with disgust. At myself. At a Babylonian world. At people falling prey to the schemes of the devil, himself. At the thought of publishing this post, not knowing if it even matters, anyways. Tomorrow is another day, right? It offers with it another chance to lie through my teeth about how "good" I am doing and about how "great" life is.
I am struck with conviction about my own strength.
God, did I not cry out to You for Your supernatural strength? Did I not fall on my face and beg for the ability to bare this infliction of the flesh?
I did.
You are so Faithful.
How can I be so blessed with minimal pain in my body, and wonder why people do not ask to help me? How can I have this God-given, amazing recovery, and not be joyously praising Him? How can I be healing so beautifully and wonder why no one asks me how I am? Do they have more faith in You than I do, Lord? I repent of my lack of faith. Forgive me my sins, Abba. Restore me, Father, to my place free from shame and disgrace. Pour out Your love on me, that I may glorify You in all the world.
In Christ's Redeeming Name I pray.
Amen.
As with prayer, maybe you need to proclaim your needs for them to be met. Society has a sort of numbing agent that causes us to believe we need to present ourselves in a certain fashion to be accepted and quite often that facade causes us great despair. And when we reach that point of despair we aren't sure how to reach out. I struggle with this myself. Asking for help, or specific gestures, or acknowledgement, etc. is one of the hardest and most humbling experiences for someone who's accustomed to being the provider of such things. As your God expects you to reach out to him, us mere mortals won't always know someone's in need unless it is expressed. You simply have to reach out. <3
ReplyDeleteI may not have much to offer at the moment (due to my own struggles I foolishly keep to myself) but I'm a great listener!
Julie ... or should I say Jewels ... it is no accident that your "nick" name is the representation of the beauty God places in our crowns for His glory. Jewels that illuminate, sparkle, shine and beautify our story - our testimony - later to be thrown at His feet in adoration. You are a Jewel - transparent, yet glowing; brutally honest, yet as unique as the infinite colors of the rainbow. What you have written is the cry of many ... what you so honestly bore to us, resounds in our hearts our beings, with immense painful truth. And, yet in the midst you cry out "Abba Father, you are faithful." You are a woman after God's own heart. Thank you for once again baring your soul and reminding us we are all vulnerable, helpless and desperately needing the loving hand of our Creator. I love you.
ReplyDelete