Tonight’s one of those nights where I write to process and to ponder…for me. because He is for me.
I see myself slowly turning my hands over to find them overflowing with bits and pieces. In my head I desperately try to hold onto each scrap whether big or tiny. I want to categorize them and see where they fit into the bigger picture of “God works ALL things out for the good of those who love Him and are called according to His purpose.” I glimpse the pieces of Africa slipping through my right hand’s fingers. The boys sliding over and around my ring finger before falling. Dumbstruck, I look at my hands if they are not my own. I don’t move. My eye lashes flicker to the left. Before long my arms are empty. I’m crumpled on my bed. I hit repeat. Choosing, no forcing myself to lift my left arm to the starry night. He grasps me in a fiercely gentle way. Strong hands encircling my wrist. My slack body hangs in a way where I could be tossed around. But His voice beckons me. Calling out my name. Writing it on my heart. I slump farther down. He starts to trace it on my wrist. Delicately. Intricately. Carefully. Gracefully. Each stroke with purpose and meaning. And I take a sharp breath in as He lets me know that He heard. He heard the words. He saw the way they cut to my vulnerable, exposed places where I don’t like to go. The way I fumbled through an answer. He knew the paths my heart traveled remembering other words. He knows the way words twist up my heart into all sorts. He reminds me that “Yes, baby girl, satan comes to steal, kill and destory…but I come to give you abundant life. And nothing, no nothing can separate you from my love. Oh no, I never give up. I never run out on you. I never fail. Trust me. Come away with Me. I have a plan for you. It’s gonna be wild. It’s gonna be great. It’s gonna be full of Me.” All’s not as lost as it seems.