INCANDESCENT

This year has been a year of death for me. The death of stability. The death of dreams. The death of confidence. The death of trust. The death of me. I have cried more than I could ever explain and begged the Lord to just kill me because I could never quite gets the guts up to do it myself. I have seen the bareness of my heart and have been washed over with currents of betrayal and grief. I have stared at the ceiling hoping to wake up from the nightmare that was now my life and gone to sleep praying to never see light again. The Reeper was after me and I no longer had the strength nor the will to fight him. This has been my year...

This year has also been a year of unfathomable love. Those closest to me have fought and prayed when I couldn't and often rebuked the prayers yelled out of despair. They loved me even when I couldn't smile and held me when I couldn't stand. They cried with me, laughed with me and walked through the desert beside me though they could have been strolling on grassy plains. They were...are a mirror to me of God's love, grace and mercy and no words will ever fully express my gratitude.


But even with the love they poured into my life, there is one that went over and beyond. One that still surpassed the very best of human support and comfort. One who was always able to speak directly to my heart and say exactly what I needed to hear.

Jesus.

I have never felt the love of Christ the way I have in this season. To know even though I felt all was lost, I'd never lost Him. That when I had no hope, He was my hope. When I had no more dreams for my future, He told me to dream of Him. When I couldn't mutter a word or dredge up a moan, He still said He understood. I am dang near falling apart just typing this becase He has been so faithful to me - To a sinful, weak, prideful, fallible person as myself, He still loved me...STILL LOVES ME. My knight in shining armor. My father. My friend. My rescuer. My hope.


I have not written anything, anywhere in months and I knew I needed to start writing again, that this would be an important addition to my healing. So I decided to skim through blog ideas that I'd noted a while back and came across this verse I'd found interesting but at the time had nothing in me to expound upon it...until now.

This is what I feel God has been speaking to me the last couple of months. Arise. My sweet baby girl, LIVE! Jesus has taken my hand and has called me out of the death that has surrounded and engulfed me. All control of my life was shattered and what I had left over I gave to the Lord and He took the bits and pieces left of me, grabbed my hand and spoke life back into the deflated heart that laid still in my chest.

Now I can breath and it's not out of my own strength but His. Now I can dream, not out of my own confidence but through His promises. Now I can smile again, not from the darkened and tattered heart I once had, but from the new one He has given me. It is a daily battle to hold fast to what God has spoken to me but I have decided to continue to trust God and move forward. He has kept me even beyond death and will continue to do so. I surrendered my life to Him and He gave me a better one back. Restored, renewed, healed and whole. I know I am not the same as I was yesterday and as painful as the journey has been I am grateful. I have learned more of who I TRULY am and seen a glimpse of the beauty of God. My heart is overwhelmed with joy and awe when I think of Him.

I never thought I'd say this but I agree with David (or Ezra, there is a debate on who wrote this) when he said:



I don't pretend to understand the process of this life...my life but I now believe without a shadow of a doubt that my life and all that surrounds it is in God's hands and my soul rests in that.

*word changed from is to past tense

*word changed from have been to past tense

          I'd made a comment to my friend that she was "Beautifully Ugly" and she dang near cried! Needless to say, I don't think she got it, lol. I had been mulling over that very phrase several days before I'd spoken it. Initially it was of myself. The mess I'd become. The issues that had been brought to the forefront. The chaos of my life. That was the ugly.

          The beauty, however, is what makes the mess worth while. Purposed. Delicate and terrifying all in the same. It is the support and encouragement of family and friends. The ability to laugh in the middle of sorrow. The determination hope instills. The grace God gives to learn of and lean on him. The revelation at the end of the day that God brought you through what you thought impossible. And most overarching, the love that I feel walking with me on a path I've never traveled and a road he's already ventured upon.

           The most breathtaking to see is the coming of a storm. How the clouds roil in ferocious, unnerving and unapologetic. Huge, fluffy, dark mounds of cotton hide the baby blues, sun rays or twinkling stars. The site can completely overtake you with dread and fear if you can't see the light behind the darkness. See what you know is there in spite of how it looks. Know that every storm moves by nature. It may seem like it will be there forever but what you don't realize is that each moment it looks to be still, it has already moved, shifted, changed. You can never stay under the same part of a storm. It's impossible. That, in itself, should give us hope.

         Sometimes the rain from a storm can be the most refreshing time of your life. The sweet smell of the water. The bigger the drops, the more it washes away. In the rain, when you've decided to stand in it without reserve, you don't worry about mediocre things. The stress of making sure your hair and makeup are done. The worry of wearing the finest fabrics. The itch to run for cover. The care of others watching. Beauty can happen in the rain. Be born, refined and exposed clearly through the torrential weather.

I’m sure when you were younger you tried this very thing. I know I have. Ripped the band aid off because I was told it was the easiest and less painful process, and completely ripped the scab right off of my body. The pain was striking, it created a deeper wound where the scab used to reside because I pulled flesh out with it, the edges around the wound began to swell and take up a red tint and i bled...again. Repeating the same process as before just with more irritation and impending scar tissue.

This is how I currently feel. Like a band aid was ripped off of an area in my life that had been healing, slowly but steadily, and because that which was no longer necessary was not removed with care, it feels more severe than the original slicing, leaving me and it, more jaded now than before.There is one issue that stands out to me. 

Why was the scab attached to its temporary covering?

Well I have a few ideas. There could have been a defect with the part of the band aid that directly comes into contact with the wound. If the proper sealant was not on the gauze like area, it is very easy for the fibers to grow into the wound and cause an unnatural attachment. Also, the band aid could have been improperly placed, putting the adhesive arm of the sticky covering directly on wound. which, in turn, both could cause some issues if not handled properly. How do we avoid such situations, you ask? There needs to be something between the wound and the covering. An anti-infective. This keeps infection at bay, occasionally numbs the pain and will keep the wound protected even when the temporary covering is removed, be it spontaneous or delayed. So outside of Band Aid talk, what are we using as our Anti-Infective if at all? Are we solely depending on what only covers the surface or are we concerned with what also penetrates the wound? What can heal from the inside out, give you relief from the pain and discomfort from the wound and destroy all unseen infectives before it becomes infection? We all already know what I am going to say.

Jesus.

He alone should be the first we go to when we get wounded. The first we allow to let into direct contact with what is ailing us. The first we cry our tears to and ask to treat our boo-boo. Whether it be a skinned knee or a shanked heart, he is the only one that can treat beyond the surface and protect us from grappling at what will only remain temporary, for the only sure thing in this life is the love of Christ and that he will never leave us and will always take care of us. No matter how bloody, large or infected our wounds may get, God will clean, suture and mend what is broken.

    

           So I’m sitting up typing this because I can’t sleep. Why can’t I sleep? Because the term they’re "only human” is making a mockery of my emotions. What exactly is this supposed to mean or do? Did some guilty party create it in the hopes of equalizing any rampant emotions of the one who received the fault? Is it a bible verse and I just happened to skip over the part where Adam made a point to remind God he was only human and that’s why he ate the apple, pear or whatever it was? Or is it to make sure you realize and never forget that you too are just as imperfect as the one who scarred you? That you need to remember the last time you hurt someone so you won’t be as mad as if you negated doing so? When is it a bad time to make this statement? When should we pause, listen and maybe just say “You know what? That sucks.” Lets try a few, shall we?


a. “They stepped on my foot!” Oh, they’re only human.


b. “I can’t believe they threw that glass across the room!” Now, now… everyone gets angry. We’re only human.


c. “My wife says she’s been seeing another man for the last six months and wants to leave me.” Really? That’s too bad. It happens to the best of us. Well you know, she’s only human.

       Did you notice any that seem like this particular statement wouldn’t be the best to quote? Granted these are the least to the greatest extremes but hopefully you catch my drift. So, what do I think about all of this? I think it goes both ways. I feel we should never forget that we are all faulty, fragile, imperfect people that make tons of mistakes and bad choices to those we love and to strangers, whether purposed or not. We need to have grace and patience when learning together and growing on this sinfully rambunctious round thing we live on called Earth.

         I am fully aware of how easy it is for me to be the person that offends or scars someone’s heart and all I can do is repent to that person and if they choose to forgive me, move forward with or without the relationship. Now what I can’t do is assume that just because they realize I am made out of the same flesh they are and we are all equally flawed, that their emotions will normalize once the words “I’m sorry” are spoken.

          Granted, sometimes things are very easily restored once there has been proper acknowledgement, what ever that looks like for those persons, but more often than not, depending on the severity of the issue and how deeply it’s wounded the heart, you don’t want to hear that. It only makes what you feel invalid and ridiculous. You’re hurt but you shouldn’t be because you’ve hurt people too. You’re sad but don’t be as sad because you’ve made people sad too.

        Sometimes the more I think about things, the more I can’t wrap my brain around it and in that moment, if I am trying to hash it out with you (friend or assumed foe), be open and figure out why I feel a certain way or that I feel a certain emotion, or even just to have a place where it’s safe to unwrap the bandages around my heart, please, please don’t tell me that the one that hurt me, be it now or in the future, is “ONLY HUMAN.”

Say cheese. Smile for the camera. Smile for your family. 
Smile for your friends. 
I'm great. I'm good. I'm fine. I'm...

SMILE! 

Keep moving. 
Keep talking. 
Nod and be interested. 
Laugh and don't cry. 
Eat and don't puke. 
Breathe and stay conscious.
Be normal.
Be glued.

Smile. 

I'm forgiven so i forgive. 
Love without delay. 
Wash your face and meditate. 
Write a verse on your mirror. 
Speak things that are not as though they were. 
Don't dwell on the heartache. 
Don't think about the pain. 
Don't sleep all day.
Be excited for the unknown.
Grateful for the past.


Smile.

Everything is great.
Jesus is ultimately good.
I'm ultimately not.
Be strong.
Take heart...
Get another heart.
Let go and trust God.
Don't lose it.
Be bigger.
Try harder.
Invest... again.

Smile.

Be brave.
Say yes.
Be healed not broken.
Beautiful not shattered.
Supportive not jaded.
Open not walled.
Bandage up.
Walk out.

Then Repeat.

Smile.

Ok so I saw this picture on a blog I was reading today, the one you suggested Rod (AnIdolHeart.com), and thought “I’m that man! The man seemingly suspended in the air with the fear of falling but the hope of being caught.” Though I know this has probably been practiced time and time again; first on smaller scales, closer swings, and a cushioned bottom, does that change, alter or cancel the fear in the jumpers’ heart or the grain of doubt that “he’s caught me every time before this but what if this time he misses?” Looking at this picture, I have no doubt that he caught him without faltering but that is me on the outside looking in. I see the greater picture. Kind of like when your friends tell you that everything will work out or how they can see how God is moving in whatever the situation is. They see what we often cannot.

Now what a different picture it is to be the one jumping, leaping, arms fully stretched, head up and focused on the one he knows will catch him. What an awesome parallel of how we should be with Christ in our most vulnerable conditions. Imagine if he looked down and took the time to think about the ”what ifs”. What if I fall? How bad will it hurt? Will it kill me? Will it cripple me? Will I forever be bitter at the person that dropped me? If he’d taken the time to mull over all of that, do you think he would’ve kept his arms outstretch and eyes focused on the promise of being caught or began to slowly but surely curl himself into a ball and try to brace himself for his now inevitable fall?

Even if he decided to tuck and drop, that would not have changed the catchers response. He wouldn’t put his arms down because he did. He would stretch them further and harder because it is his responsibility to catch him. The only thing the catcher needs the jumper to do is follow through with focusing on him and he’ll do the rest. Even with your hearts beating fast, focus. When you feel absolutely nothing holding you, focus. When your eyes start to water and your stomach turns flips from fear, focus. And oh the joy and relief the jumper feels once he’s caught. The relief of knowing he was right, that the Catcher would not let him fall. Even though his arms may ache from the swinging impact after being caught, the discomfort won’t matter because, he was caught.

Oh how I look forward to being caught. The pain, anxiety and questions I have will no longer matter. To jump while in fear and make it to the other side will be worth every bruise, bump and bug in my eye. I’ve jumped, we’ve jumped, and the great news is, we’ll all be caught!!!