Faith

Tears in a Bottle


I’m supposed to be packing.

I’m supposed to be getting ready for this new chapter in my life.

I’m supposed to be strong and accept that yet another marriage has failed, and it is time to pick up the pieces and forget that the last 24 years were the whole world to me.

Inside my beating heart lives a little boy. He still believes in the magical world of make believe. He still believes that when he grows up, he’ll be Superman or a Firefighter, or a Marine.

He sees me packing boxes for our move, and he grabs my arm to stop me. This little boy believes that if I leave everything as it is, if I don’t change anything, if I hold still and believe, that everything will return to the way it was…the way it should be, the way it could be.

With each book I put in a box, each dish I wrap for safe moving, a small part of him dies. He doesn’t want to believe this is real and it is happening.

His tears become my tears. His hurt becomes my hurt. We can’t stop crying. So I stop packing for a while and we cry together. Our tears are hot and running down our faces as we hold each other. He wishes I could just believe, and I wish I could help him to stop hurting.

I have no way to explain to him why this hurt is on us. And I am not really the one that should do the explaining. The one who tore a hole in our lives needs to do that. So, we cry together until he is too weary to cry anymore. When he finally calms down and falls back asleep, I continue my packing.

You keep track of all my sorrows.
You have collected all my tears in your bottle.
You have recorded each one in your book. – Psalm 56:8

Even in my brokenness, Lord, I believe in you and know you are guiding me through this storm. Get me out of the way, Lord until all anyone can see in me is you.

I believe, Lord, help my unbelief.

Let’s be about it

David.

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Faith

The Learning Curve


073014_2125_WhomGodChoo1.jpgThis morning, I wrote in my journal.  While I was writing, I realized I was not writing what was genuinely and truthfully on my heart, but what I thought would be pleasing to God.  I was fishing for brownie points.

I stopped writing what I was writing and began writing what was on my heart.

I decided to share this with you because I know you are going through this, too.

Remember, every situation, no matter how difficult, is here for a reason.

I dedicate this to my friend, who is hurting right now.  I pray for you and for answers that make sense.  You know who you are.

***** From My Journal*****

19/Dec/2014 7:20

Eph 4:29  Let no unwholesome word proceed from your mouth, but only such a word as is good for edification according to the need of the moment, so that it will give grace to those who hear.

I wonder how quiet the world would be if we heeded this advice?

Do I speak just to hear myself speak?  Is my speech such that others are blessed by it?…

We interrupt this diatribe so we can speak honestly about what is on our hearts.

Dear Lord God,

Why am I going around this mountain again?

What lesson is in this that I need to learn?

What part of yourself and your character are you trying to reveal and integrate into me?

Making pearls means having to deal with discomfort.  Through our discomfort, we learn to apply the character of God to the situation.  The end result is a thing of beauty.

So, I do not mind the discomfort as much as I object to my own ignorance.

Clear my mind, Lord, and prepare my heart for what it is you are working in my life.  If my discomfort leads me to lead others to your Cross, then let’s make this time count.

I trust you , Lord, that your word is true when you said:

And we know that God causes all things to work together for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to His purpose.
(Rom 8:28 NASB)

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