It’s been a while, I know. I don’t know why this is so hard. I don’t. I just know things have never seemed so unclear. You have never seemed so far as You do right now.
I thought I would get it together, that I would get back to where I was… so I could come to You and feel Your warmth again.
But I think I can’t. I don’t think where I was exists anymore.
There’s so much I don’t understand now. You know what I don’t understand? I don’t understand how You can seem so present, so in command of the smallest, most insignificant details. And then seem so very far from the biggest.
Dare I say aloud… I do want to fall into Your mercy and goodness, but sometimes they seem like an ever moving target. I ask myself are You even listening at all?? Do You hear us?? Do You see what’s going on here??
They tell me I need to ‘be strong and fight’. ‘It’s all lies, lies meant to hurt you, Sandy, don’t believe the lies’. ‘Have. Faith.’
Have I lost my faith? Have I?
I haven’t. I know I haven’t.
Because I lean deep into faith when I believe that just as You promise clean water for even the most muddied soul, that Your restoration can also flow over the aching, weary one.
And I stand firm on faith when I believe that just as You take the most angry, hardened hearts exactly as they are, that You welcome my bloodied, broken one just the way it is right now, in this moment.
Faith.
That my questions don’t scare You.
That my uncertainty doesn’t offend You.
That my weakness doesn’t disgust You.
Faith.
That I can disregard the easy answers to the hard why’s,
That I don’t have to take all this ugly and wrap it up in a tidy little package with a cute little bow,
That I can firmly say this is not good…
…and You’ll find me acceptable. Anyway. Worthy of Your pursuit. Anyway.
Because I believe, I truly believe, that You break with us. That when our hearts are shattered and lives are ruined, and we are consumed by darkness that Your heart breaks too, and Your breath is heavy too, that Your tears leave gritty, salty stains on Your cheeks, too.