My Darkest Days

My darkest days were those when I hid behind my shame.

I fled from community & into the arms of solitude.

I reasoned that I was alone in my struggle... that it was a struggle of the unworthy, of the weak, of the lost.

In those darkest of days I sought to be healed but, refused any human help!

I believed in God's power of healing but... I would only accept His complete healing... on my own terms.

He would have to heal me quietly -- without the knowledge or involvement of others.

They say that when something hurts you enough... that then, and only then, will you truly change.

When the struggle's worn you down for countless hours, weeks, months, years... how can strength to begin such a change be found? And, what's the source of that kind of strength?

The strongest chord of a strand is the deepest one. When all the others unravel, the strongest remains. The chord that ties us to the eternal. The chord that binds us to the source of of all strength.

Light began to dawn the moment I stepped out from behind my shame & said,

• "God, I will accept Your healing on Your terms."

• "I will allow others to see my wounds."

• "I will no longer define what is unworthy, weak, lost..."

• "I will trust in the chord at the center of my being that can never be severed by this world or the powers below."

I cling tenaciously and with complete hope & acceptance of this promise...

"And I am certain that God, who began the good work within you, will continue his work until it is finally finished on the day when Christ Jesus returns." 

Philippians 1:6

Life in a Puddle

Today I am beyond... beyond, beyond.  It's one of those days where the struggle has devoured so much of my strength that I lie in a puddle at the feet of the One who created all life. The One who gives the strength we need for the day, a peace that passes all understanding & unconditional love beyond measure. I lie there lifeless & still with eyes wide opened awaiting the miracle. It's one of those days when I'm so worn out from the struggle that I just moan & let the Holy Spirit put words to my sounds for the Father - who hears all, knows all, understands all. Today I question the words I felt led to pray a few weeks ago on a very similar day. Yet, I mouth those words in obedience.

It's always perspective...
sometimes the smoke get in the way!

I blindly, yet boldly, claim the "miracle" to come of this rubble. It's more of an obedience to what I know & believe than a response to how I feel. Isn't that what we're asked to do as Christ followers? Haven't we seen it over & over again in the "rear view mirror" of our lives?  The burning rubble makes way for new growth.  The burning rubble warns others of what could be. The burning rubble creates a cloud blocking the light of the sun -- the light of the Son.  But, the Son is ever present amidst the burning rubble.

In expecting a miracle from this mess, there's a moment of peace from the struggle.  There's a soft breeze of fresh air. There's a flicker of hope. There's a hint of a better day to come. There's a reminder that all my planning, fretting, questioning -- will add nothing to what God is working on behind the scenes.

So, I lie here in a puddle at the feet of the One who wastes nothing of life's experiences but, makes all things new.  If you have to lie somewhere - in a puddle - I can't think of a better place.

"... the Holy Spirit helps us in our weakness. For example, we don't know what God wants us to pray for. But the Holy Spirit prays for us with groanings that cannot be expressed in words." Romans 8:26