I am the Queen of Artful Ambiguity,
of Vain Vagueness,
of “Oh! I’m fine! How are you?”,
of saying only enough to “speak truth”,
but never quite enough to do justice to the crazed chaos that consumes the confines of my corrupted and comfortless soul.
Because if you knew my heart, really rubbed your scabby elbows with mine, there would be only one thought in your mind,
and please hear me when I say that jumpsuits and white fluorescent light are not flattering for my pasty fair complexion.
But the more I keep this senselessness all safely stored inside, the more I carefully contain,
the more Satan has to misuse and abuse and lead me subtly away from the Savior,
the One thing that makes any sense in this stupidly secular world.
So here is my heavy and hurting heart, all bloody and red and raw, and I pray that somehow you might find true and tangible encouragement from the torment therein.
That boy brutally broke my heart, and though somedays I feel like I am finally fine and finished,
most days I pathetically and wearily weep, seeing cruel and crippling reminders of him strewn across this desolate land and in my broken life,
and these wounds still bleed profusely and unabashedly and I long to leave.
I desperately and literally tried to run today, to escape this ever-present death that looms over me, but I only got one bumbling block before I realized that I am obviously out of shape
and that the very thing I am running from is me,
and I could never run far enough or fast enough to rid myself of me.
It’s like You’ve been dangling that proverbial carrot of “stability” right in front of me,
and each time I feel it within my groping grasp, something horrible happens, something to tortuously tear me away from you and the life of faith and freedom that I know is found in You.
And I am so tired of fighting this battle,
of being belligerently beaten by billions of bullets,
and I wonder if it is worth it.
But then I remember that if this is isn’t worth it, nothing is.
And I think maybe this is how David felt when he called his tears his food and doubtfully questioned Your faithfulness.
So I will try to love You and be loved by You,
even though it hurts and I am hurt and it seems like he was my only connection to You, and when he left, You did too.
But I know you are here, even though I cannot feel You or see You,
and even though it feels like You are uncaringly sitting up in Your golden throne laughing insensitively at me and carelessly throwing trials at me that I have no hope of overcoming.
But then maybe that is the beauty of this, that in suffering, I am learning that I am nothing, that without You, I have no hope, no purpose, no thing to cling to in this coldly cruel world.
Your love is real and irrational and powerful and it is all I need.
Remind me of your grace everyday, in glorious lightning storms, annoyingly crazy moths, and babies with gurgling drool.
Sweet Savior, my Healer and Husband,
Captivate me, capture me, and consume me.
May 2012
of Vain Vagueness,
of “Oh! I’m fine! How are you?”,
of saying only enough to “speak truth”,
but never quite enough to do justice to the crazed chaos that consumes the confines of my corrupted and comfortless soul.
Because if you knew my heart, really rubbed your scabby elbows with mine, there would be only one thought in your mind,
and please hear me when I say that jumpsuits and white fluorescent light are not flattering for my pasty fair complexion.
But the more I keep this senselessness all safely stored inside, the more I carefully contain,
the more Satan has to misuse and abuse and lead me subtly away from the Savior,
the One thing that makes any sense in this stupidly secular world.
So here is my heavy and hurting heart, all bloody and red and raw, and I pray that somehow you might find true and tangible encouragement from the torment therein.
That boy brutally broke my heart, and though somedays I feel like I am finally fine and finished,
most days I pathetically and wearily weep, seeing cruel and crippling reminders of him strewn across this desolate land and in my broken life,
and these wounds still bleed profusely and unabashedly and I long to leave.
I desperately and literally tried to run today, to escape this ever-present death that looms over me, but I only got one bumbling block before I realized that I am obviously out of shape
and that the very thing I am running from is me,
and I could never run far enough or fast enough to rid myself of me.
It’s like You’ve been dangling that proverbial carrot of “stability” right in front of me,
and each time I feel it within my groping grasp, something horrible happens, something to tortuously tear me away from you and the life of faith and freedom that I know is found in You.
And I am so tired of fighting this battle,
of being belligerently beaten by billions of bullets,
and I wonder if it is worth it.
But then I remember that if this is isn’t worth it, nothing is.
And I think maybe this is how David felt when he called his tears his food and doubtfully questioned Your faithfulness.
So I will try to love You and be loved by You,
even though it hurts and I am hurt and it seems like he was my only connection to You, and when he left, You did too.
But I know you are here, even though I cannot feel You or see You,
and even though it feels like You are uncaringly sitting up in Your golden throne laughing insensitively at me and carelessly throwing trials at me that I have no hope of overcoming.
But then maybe that is the beauty of this, that in suffering, I am learning that I am nothing, that without You, I have no hope, no purpose, no thing to cling to in this coldly cruel world.
Your love is real and irrational and powerful and it is all I need.
Remind me of your grace everyday, in glorious lightning storms, annoyingly crazy moths, and babies with gurgling drool.
Sweet Savior, my Healer and Husband,
Captivate me, capture me, and consume me.
May 2012
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