One of my New Year’s Resolutions is to post on my blog more often and it took about a week, but here we go! God has prompted me to start sharing some more of my more personal journalings between He and I. This week will be a slightly different style than my typical, but it is straight from an encounter He and I had at the end of December. My suggestion would be to read the post from your own perspective because I believe God wants others to benefit from our moment.
Father, thank You for fighting on my behalf. In the times that energy has left and the fire within me has dimmed to but an ember, You stand, sword drawn on my behalf. Lord, when I am weak, You are strong. When the strength has all but vanished from inside me, You continue to sustain me. Placing one of my aching feet before the other, You breathe just enough life over my ember of passion for it to glow into the tiniest of flames that reaches from my heart to my brain as a spark of purpose. So I continue. I have no answer for why I keep going, but there is an ever present knowledge that my life continues not for me, but for my Creator. You have me my first breath and You reawaken my ember of a heart to life. Although the process is painful, You take me under the safety of Your wings and carry me through the oppressive valley. As much as I desire to be healed of afflictions instantly and for my struggles to fall by the wayside, this world remains a dark and trial-filled place. Peace eases my wild thoughts: Paul declared to live is Christ. I am not the first to endure trials, nor will I be the last and I press on in the knowledge that Christ will be glorified through the triumph over my suffering. In my state of desperation, I have felt lost, confused, hopeless, and alone, but I at last acknowledge what you have been whispering for weeks, “ You are not alone. Let me carry you.”
Shame nearly suffocates me and with downcast eyes I choke out, “I am sorry, Lord. I have failed You. I was to be Your light in the world and instead I have allowed myself to be snuffed out.”
A tender smile graces my Father’s face and He gently tilts my head up so I can meet His eyes, shining with such emotion that I cannot interpret their meaning, “My daughter your light is not extinguished in the face of heartache for hat is when those around you just begin to see the authenticity of your light. You have not failed me.”
Unable to accept the freedom of His words, I squeeze my eyes tightly shut and a tear slides out as a broken whisper escapes from my broken heart, “But I feel as if I have failed, I am broken.”
“Ah my Child,” pulling me into His embrace, He speaks into my unruly hair, “all are broken, but in my arms is the love to put you back together.”
Hot tears soak into His brilliantly white robe and sobs shake my already exhausted body. His mighty hand capable of destroying cities and moving mountains secures my head to His chest. His arms around me are the covering my heart has yearned for. Clinging to my Father, I release the pain of injustice and hurt. The tears of all my emotions and experiences, He catches each one and soaks them into His own heart. God dries my cheeks with a supple cloth, “Again I tell You, I am sorry.” Responding to my frown, He clasps my Hand, “I have before apologized on behalf of the hurt you have had to endure. My heart breaks with your pain and I cry right alongside you. The pain of this life is not my desire for you, but you are equipped to overcome it. When you are weak, I am strong. Through the valley I carry you, but it will not remain this way. Your passion reignites your strength so you can run the race before you and be victorious. Still I walk with you, but now you wield the sword I crafted from your knowledge and my power. Together we enter battle.”
Holding fast to His hand, I hang on every word grasping onto the hope and promise of victory. Fresh tears escape me, but they are now of joy and God smiles with me. I have no words to respond and He bows His head in acknowledgement of my heart. Placing a feather light kiss on my head, He says in tangible parting, “Remember who you are.”
In the agony of processes, I have allowed my identity to slip through my fingers releasing it to dissipate on the wind, but the identity is what will give me purpose to enter battle on God’s behalf. He instilled it in me and shares His power with me, I will not squander it.
“For consider it pure joy to endure trials and tribulations for it develops perseverance so I am mature and complete.” (Paraphrased from James 1:2-4)