11/05/14
Almost nothing is quite as hard as weeping silently. I feel as though I could vomit from grief. We leave in 13 days. Supposedly. Either way, our time here ends. The hardest 1 year and a half of my life, goes to another chapter, in which I only see more heartache. Alone. “Lord, take me anywhere, only go with me.” It is more than sentiment. It is essential for life. If I go to this dark place, absent of relationships and family support, left to sort out Thelo’s health, while Jay ventures into a new role that takes him out of the home, if I go to this place with these new realities, I will surely come to my end, if Jesus doesn’t go with me. Lord, end me. Take up residence in me where these fears reside. Remove them and replace them with Yourself. Your boldness, giving me faith only You can provide. There is no place for wishful thinking. You have freely given me more than I could have hoped or wished for. Your purposes are perfect, yes, in suffering. In anguish. In sorrow. In pain. In futility. Only when I have come to the end of myself, do You become most magnified in me. I felt poured out before we even had Thelo. To describe what I feel now, nothing short of being poured out again. Jay’s sickness brought me to my end. It poured out of me, all that was left. At that moment, my faith intensely deepened like a piercing through my very soul. And then suddenly, clarity. All fear was gone. Jesus was there with me. I didn’t have to pretend to be strong. I already knew I was a failure as I watched my husband’s life draining out of him in front of me. I knew I was a failure each time a baby came from my womb. I knew I was a failure when I came to North Carolina, robbed of peace for the previous 2 and a half years. I knew I was a failure at 4 years old when I cried out for Jesus to save me. At each point of failure, Jesus was there. Each time He filled what had been emptied. I had been stretched and broken, He took that ruined thing and added Himself, binding what was broken and filling what had been stretched. He made me new. Always new. Make me new again, Lord Jesus. I am stretched and torn, broken and ruined, again. Please bind me and fill me, I am once again ruined but can be remade, more like You.
Slow to Speak 