This is my space to write what needs to come out of my head - a place to put things for safekeeping. Sometimes when I see something on paper it helps me to look at it more objectively. I realize that everything I type is being filtered through my lens. It is not a totally accurate picture. Last night as I tossed and turned, trying to make sense of something that makes no sense to me, I pulled my blankets over my head and cried. I asked God, "Why?" "What have I done?" "Why are you so slow to answer?"
How can a heart be so blinded to the truth? How can a wise person pursue danger? How is it possible to ask and not hear? I was trying to pray but I couldn't focus. I couldn't convince myself that God was listening to me. I remembered the story about the man who was dying. He asked for a chair to be placed by his bed. When questioned about it by a visitor, he said that he pictured Jesus sitting there and they had many good conversations. This inspired me to get out of bed (at 2:00 a.m.) and pull a chair up to the bedside. I crawled back under the covers and tried talking to the Lord again. It was a little better.
I told my Father about my feelings. I told Him I wanted Him to take them because feelings are unreliable. I told Him about my concerns. I cried. I shouted (in my head - didn't want to wake the children!), I told Him no one understood. I had no one to talk to. I asked Him why He seemed to be stripping me of all who mattered. I asked what I was supposed to do. I told Him He wasn't close enough in that chair. I want to write what I felt because it was comforting - even if it sounds melodramatic to other people. As I laid there, totally exhausted, my nose stuffed from crying, my eyes puffy, my lips dry -- I felt as though the pillow where my head rested became Christ's lap. "Is this close enough?"
I understand you, daughter. The feelings you describe...helplessness, discouragement, anger, bewilderment, disappointment, sadness...I feel those things too. Maybe not in the same way but how do you think I feel when I watch you pursue danger? How do you think I feel when you harden your heart to My words? How do you think I feel when you ask me for help or wisdom or clarity and leave before I can answer? How do you think I feel when you reject Me? Do you think it is easy to watch you? Do you think it is easy to see you take the free will I've given you and make foolish choices? It breaks my heart. You are my cherished daughter. I love you. I understand. Do you understand?
I fell asleep with my head in my Abba's lap. I was not alone. I was understood. I was loved even if I was not perfect. What am I going to do with this? I don't know yet. I have to think about it. I do know I feel rested as I start this day. I'm ready to see what's ahead of me. I feel secure and confident. I'm my Daddy's girl.
Change my heart Oh God
Make it ever true
Change my heart Oh God
May I be like You.
You are the potter
I am the clay
Mold me and make me
This is what I pray.
~Eddie Espinosa
©Mercy/Vineyard Publishing
How can a heart be so blinded to the truth? How can a wise person pursue danger? How is it possible to ask and not hear? I was trying to pray but I couldn't focus. I couldn't convince myself that God was listening to me. I remembered the story about the man who was dying. He asked for a chair to be placed by his bed. When questioned about it by a visitor, he said that he pictured Jesus sitting there and they had many good conversations. This inspired me to get out of bed (at 2:00 a.m.) and pull a chair up to the bedside. I crawled back under the covers and tried talking to the Lord again. It was a little better.
I told my Father about my feelings. I told Him I wanted Him to take them because feelings are unreliable. I told Him about my concerns. I cried. I shouted (in my head - didn't want to wake the children!), I told Him no one understood. I had no one to talk to. I asked Him why He seemed to be stripping me of all who mattered. I asked what I was supposed to do. I told Him He wasn't close enough in that chair. I want to write what I felt because it was comforting - even if it sounds melodramatic to other people. As I laid there, totally exhausted, my nose stuffed from crying, my eyes puffy, my lips dry -- I felt as though the pillow where my head rested became Christ's lap. "Is this close enough?"
I understand you, daughter. The feelings you describe...helplessness, discouragement, anger, bewilderment, disappointment, sadness...I feel those things too. Maybe not in the same way but how do you think I feel when I watch you pursue danger? How do you think I feel when you harden your heart to My words? How do you think I feel when you ask me for help or wisdom or clarity and leave before I can answer? How do you think I feel when you reject Me? Do you think it is easy to watch you? Do you think it is easy to see you take the free will I've given you and make foolish choices? It breaks my heart. You are my cherished daughter. I love you. I understand. Do you understand?
I fell asleep with my head in my Abba's lap. I was not alone. I was understood. I was loved even if I was not perfect. What am I going to do with this? I don't know yet. I have to think about it. I do know I feel rested as I start this day. I'm ready to see what's ahead of me. I feel secure and confident. I'm my Daddy's girl.
Change my heart Oh God
Make it ever true
Change my heart Oh God
May I be like You.
You are the potter
I am the clay
Mold me and make me
This is what I pray.
~Eddie Espinosa
©Mercy/Vineyard Publishing
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