Sometimes…

Sometimes you owe so much to someone

That you can never pay them back.

The best you can do

Is dedicate your life to them.

And even then,

You only scratch the surface of your gratitude to them.

I’m Sorry.

I’m sorry.

I’m sorry that our friendship had to end the way it did.

I’m sorry for everything I did, everything I said that ever hurt you.

I’m sorry that the depths of depression we both explored,

Were undeniably sourced in our relationship with one another.

I’m sorry.

I’m sorry that I have to be so harsh, so firm,

When I tell you that things must never become that way again.

I’m sorry that you are having a hard time understanding

That my hurtful actions

Aren’t meant for the sake of hurting,

But for our eventual, mutual, spiritual healing.

I’m sorry.

I’m sorry that my recovery is coming along swifter than yours.

But I’m not sorry.

I’m grateful to God for the grace and healing He has given to me

As a loving gift from Father to Daughter.

I accept His gift with songs of thankfulness and love.

No, I’m not sorry for accepting His grace.

He offered it to me – HE did.

God.

Do you expect me to refuse Him? The Holy of Holies?

The one who died for me?

The one who loves me?

I AM sorry

That you have not yet fully healed.

I’m sorry that it brings you pain

To see me start to be happy again.

It does raise the question

‘Have you ever really loved me.’

After all,

Love is putting someone else first,

Caring more about THEIR welfare than your own…

The fact that you tried today

To make me feel guilty

For finding some happiness…

Love? Is that love?

By definition, it is not.

I’m sorry.

I’m sorry that you are still in such pain.

I pray for you daily,

Admittedly, some days more than others,

But your recovery

Is always a cause close to my heart.

I pray for your redemption.

I pray that you’ll find joy in God,

In life,

In Music…

I pray that you’ll find joy in all of these things again.

I pray that you can forgive me for saying goodbye,

And I pray that you can forgive me

For being happy.

safety.

“There are no ‘if’s’ in God’s world. And no places safer than other places. The Center of His Will is our only safety… We must pray that we may always know it.”

–The Hiding Place, Chapter 5

 

 

breathe me

 

Matthew 11:28-30

English Standard Version (ESV)

²⁸ Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. ²⁹ Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. ³⁰ For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”

Wholesome Grief

“But thou, O Lord, art forever the same, yet thou art not forever angry with us, for thou hast compassion on our dust and ashes.  It was pleasing in thy sight to reform my deformity, and by inward stings thou didst disturb me so that I was impatient until thou wert made clear to my inward sight. By the secret hand of thy healing my swelling was lessened, the disordered and darkened eyesight of my mind was from day to day made whole by the stinging salve of wholesome grief.”

-St. Augustine – The Confessions, Book 7; chapter 8

Is there not some part of us that feels a sort of rightness when we grieve? It is as if we know that through pain, we have delved into the rich realm that happiness so rarely touches…

“as for me”

-Psalm 69:13 ESV

Lamentations 3:19-24

Lamentations 3:19-24

English Standard Version (ESV)

¹⁹ Remember my affliction and my wanderings,
the wormwood and the gall!
²⁰ My soul continually remembers it
and is bowed down within me.
²¹ But this I call to mind,
and therefore I have hope:

²² The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases;^[a]
his mercies never come to an end;
²³ they are new every morning;
great is your faithfulness.
²⁴ “The Lord is my portion,” says my soul,
“therefore I will hope in him.”

The Good Kind Of Death

 

I am sitting on my screened-in porch, as the afternoon sun hangs low and light filters through the trees. I’m  writing an essay on humanity’s insatiable nature and intrinsic sorrow, and I looked out into the woods, silently requesting wisdom and vision from above.

My eyes were drawn to a cluster of brilliantly red leaves. Then I began to search out the other leaves which had turned to beautiful yellows,oranges and reds.

“Death,” I thought.  How curious that while we, as humans, are repelled by the death of ourselves or sometimes of animals, there is death all around us that we do not mind – that we barely perceive.

The beautiful colors of Autumn are provided by the death of those leaves – yet not of the tree from whence they came, for when a tree is dead, it and its leaves appear brown and lifeless.

But there is something in the annual death of its leaves that is beautiful and screams “Life!”  What is this paradox?

These leaves infuse sweetness into our lives, as we transition in season from hot to cold.

The colors, the smell… the distinct “fall feel” in the cool air… It gives me such enjoyment and such peace.  I know that this is a gift to mankind.

And this gift comes from the death of something – leaves.  Certainly, this is not death to be mourned (unless, of course it is your job to clear said leaves once they land on the ground).

It’s a death that we are accustomed to and a death that we all seem to understand without words that is meant to be.

It seems to me that it’s only a partial death – for again, the tree itself is yet alive and only a part of it has died.  The only thing I can think to compare it to is how we grow hair and nails which we clip off and feel no pain as a result of this separation.

How is that out of living things (trees, people) grow things dead or soon to be dead?  -Things that seem to have been created for the sole purpose of dying.   Hair and leaves both have their being in that they grow and die for the sake of the enjoyment of their beauty… (Yes, they have other functions,but poetically speaking, they are truly beautiful and that is what is most immediately striking when you see them.)

I can’t quite wrap my mind around the beauty and complexity woven into nature… Nor can I put it into words adequately (although it should be evident by now that I am desperate to try!)

Another good kind of death:  food.  Everything you eat died that you may partake of it and be nourished. Talk about the honor and wonder of a sacrificial death. Just food for thought (no pun intended).

I am so in love with the God who made this place.  If it is so breathtaking… I can’t begin to fathom His Glorious Appearance. I can’t take it in.

These beautiful songs express the euphoria of knowing God. I wish you too could know Him and it is my prayer that you come to.

“I can’t take it in: by Imogen Heap

“I know you” by Bellarive

See why I love Him?

– Excerpts from Ezekiel 34

 

 

Should Have

Christ lived the life we should have lived.

But because we didn’t…

He died the death we should have died.

#Humbled