Alice in Wonderland

I had just left another church service, which I had been late to.  I already felt defeated as I sat through one of my favorite worship songs, feeling like my insides were growing harder by the second.  I listened to a sermon that probably related to me in more ways then I was willing to hear.  And then I got into my car and drove away, talking to a God who I wasn’t sure was even listening to me.  I drove talking and screaming,  giving voice to the truth of my hardened heart, and my inability to feel connection with those around me.  I topped a hill and began to beat on my chest, screaming at the God of the universe that “I am broken!”

Something inside of me is broken. I have given up, lost my desire to push through struggles in life and I am just tired.  After 6 months of rest, I have realized there is no amount of sleep or downtime that will fix this in my life.  Only He can.  But He and I have been here before, I have met Him in this place time and time again.  I always find myself applying my truth that I am broken, unfixable.  This is who I am, life has made me this way, and there is no way back.  After all they say you can’t go backwards.  My future terrifies me, and the God that I trusted to bring me here has stopped talking.  In His silence I recall that asked me to take the path less traveled, and I did.   It led me into an area untamed, with no path forward.  For months I have taken my machete to the forest around me, only to run into spiritual wall after spiritual wall.  I find myself no closer to happiness, joy or God.  Yet in the stillness, I repeat His word to myself  “Be still and Know that He is God”  to trust Him that “He has a plan for my life, for wholeness and not for evil.”  And His promises that He has prepared good works for me to do and I will walk in them.  I the silence and the waiting I am spiraling out of control and losing my sanity.  In defeat I fall to my knees and spend my days and nights reminding myself that He is a Good Good Father and He will never let me down!  It is all I can do, I have nothing left.

Nothing has changed, I still feel dead and broken inside, I feel like He has stopped walking with me.   I fear I left him on the side of the path somewhere. He turned and I missed the still small voice in my ear telling me to turn left or right.  Out of habit I have turned to my old friends Fear and Anxiety to only feel disgusted with myself, weak and inferior.  Shouldn’t I turn to His word?  I try but His words ring hollow to me right now.  I am lost in the hopelessness and the truth that He does not promise happiness this side of heaven.  So who am I to ask?  I read passages encouraging me to be brave and courageous and I become angry.  I have taken that path before, only to have door after door slammed into my face.

My options are many, but I feel lost in my indecision.  I can lean against the walls I have uncovered, go backwards-daydreaming that if I had only stayed it would be different, pick up my machete and move forward putting my hope in my own accomplishments, or I wait on Him to finally tell me what to do.  So I wait, surrounded by brambles, thorns, and animals unknown.  Attacked day and night by my own fears, insecurities, and hopelessness, and wonder if I can truly put all my hope in Him and trust that He has a plan for my life and he is currently working it out.  What if He is telling me to pick up my machete again?  How do I overcome my fear and move forward, not knowing if another wall will meet me once I beat my way through.  How am I to know I am to beat my way through and not wait for him to clear them.  It is all so confusing and I don’t know what to do.

I want to end this leaving you with hope that I will be okay, but today in this moment I don’t know that.  The only thing I do know is He is my savior and I when I leave this earth I will see Him face to face.  Until then, I will seek His face, pray he holds to his promises, and someday I will find His face again.

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He’s in the waiting

I sit in your presence in the waiting room of life.

Snuggled into the body of the creator, I stare at the bright green walls. My mind wonders to what’s happening on stage. I long to know what is ahead for me, I ask Him to tell me, plead with Him to let me know. Instead He smiles down at me, smooths back the hair from my forehead and gently kisses where hair meets skin.
He pulls me in closer and we settle back into our positions. I pull away and begin to pace the room, looking for a clue among the things scattered around me. I see a map, a pen and paper, heartache and love, joy and loss, but no answer comes. Instead I stare at the door, longing to go out, knowing I could step out there, but I would have to leave His presence if I did.
I fire questions at Him, hoping that this time He will answer. I lay out my plan, the future I want and ask Him to bless it. I square off with the silent figure, sitting so peacefully, with every intention of demanding what I want out of this life.
I stop cold as I stare into the eyes of creation. I see the lines of compassion etched into his face and all I can do is collapse back into His arms.
He pulls me back into where I belong, grace floods over me and peace restores my sanity. I cling to the mountain of foundation and stare at the door, waiting for life to begin.

This is how I feel most days. My desperate need for rest has led me down a path where I am in a holding pattern, waiting for God to show me the next step. I have tried multiple options to get that door open, but nothing works. So now I sit here, some what apathetic and bored with life, wishing He would give me a clue as to what comes next. Instead He smiles at me, eases my fears, encourages me to rest and continues to restore my soul.  So I choose to wait for Him to move.

“Hear instruction and be wise,
and do not neglect it.
Blessed is the one who listens to me,
watching daily at my gates,
waiting beside my doors.
For whoever finds me finds life
and obtains favor from the Lord,”

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