Everything My Heart Cries Out For

A good number of years ago, as I sat at the dinner table with friends on a Saturday night, I felt the familiar feeling of my mind and my heart wandering away from my surroundings and into my inner-most thoughts. I don't remember what I was going through at the time, but I remember my heavy heart. I broke the "no phones at the table" rule and sent a text message to an older and wiser close friend. I simply asked, "Does life get any easier as you get older?". I remember what her exact words were in reply: "Yes. It really, really does." And I believed her. If only I would have known...

Looking back over the five years since that conversation, I wonder how in the world I am still standing. I don't know how, in that short time, that that many things could knock me down, over and over. I suffered greatly, and every year, every month, every week, every day, every hour and minute and second, I prayed for it to end. Every New Year's Eve I wished and hoped and prayed that the promise of a new beginning truly would live up to its name. But it didn't. So many friendships lost, so much "starting over", so many disappointments, so many poor choices, and more tears and darkness than one should never endure.

Five years later, in a tiny house with strangers, with a new heart and mind, at a wonderful job, with less true friends than the fingers on one hand, the best family both blood and not, the ability to find the silver lining, new ways of thinking, developing trust and vulnerability with people I love that love me back, no more looking over my shoulder at what has already passed, with the relentless love of my God forever surrounding me, with no less tears than of years past, and with nothing short of a miracle, it did. It ended.

Never in my life have I ever had the ability to shed tears of pure joy and immense gratitude until this past year when the light broke from behind the dark, stormy sky. The beams has been hiding there the whole time, but under my shroud of covered darkness I had no idea how to look up and find them.

I still have the occasional hard time wrapping my mortal brain and heart around the ugly, unexplained terrors of this world, but mostly in the case of the hardships of others. I do truly believe that the bad, scary things of this life are suffered and endured in order to allow us to show our scars, no matter how deep, to others going through the same things. I always say, "There's a reason that God created more than one person". We are to pass on our hope and peace, the kind that surpasses all understanding, to the ones who desperately seek it.

I always have a vision when I feel compelled to reach out to others who are hurting and looking for the light. It is the vision of me holding out my hands, palms up, so that the one in despair can see my deep scars, just as Jesus held out His hands to show His disciples that He and His suffering were real and that He truly died and came back to save us.

I will strive to put the promises of my long-awaited year of hope, love, and joy into others who don't know if the night will ever end. It ends, my dear ones. Morning IS coming. Keep pushing through, keep holding on to the promises that we have been given. They're there. I promise that they are. Look left and look right at the people and the things that have been sent to you to hold you up, and grab ahold of them. Hold on tight. Then look up. Know that behind those storm clouds there are rays of bright, beautiful light streaming directly from the promise of every tear being dried and of no more death, sorrow, or pain.

Hold fast to the fact that you know another who has walked through the fire and come out only slightly burned. I have been bound by the chains of death, of immeasureable loss, of addiction, of a broken heart, of despair, of hopelessness, of fear, of unbelief, of giving up, of being blinded by the pitch dark, and so many other things.

But you know what? I have been given in return a new heart, the ability to love and be loved,  the great, glorious gift of redemption, unimaginable hope, a peace that helped me learn to breathe again, the blessing of some incredible people to walk next to, and the knowledge to pass on to others that it DOES end.

Just hold on. Stay alive. Ask for help. Let that tiny sunbeam deep within your soul carry you to brighter days. Know that you are loved. It will end. It really will. Take it from me. Keep going. Just. Keep. Going.

Another You

You.
Yes, you.
A different you.

I would tell you how much I love you, but it would be wasting my time. You already know. I loved you to the death of us. A heartbreaking, slow, painful death. I would say that you broke my heart, but really I broke my own. And it hurt. Oh, did it hurt. But I don't have to tell you that. You know what a broken heart feels like, especially now. You know.

When I saw you, I don't know what I felt. Half of me wanted to run the other way, and the other half of me was thrilled that you were there. Yes, thrilled.

I don't believe in coincidence. I know that there's a reason that we were both there. And it was glorious. Being with you again, that was glorious. And so many other things.

I know that things can never be the way they were. I know that we can't pick up where we left off. I screwed up, on so many levels, and I know that that was the end. But apologizing to you, that healed a part of my heart that I didn't even know was still broken. I truly am sorry. I am.

Leaving you that night, that's a completely different story. If I knew how to cry, I would have. All the way home, I would have cried. I just wanted more than I got. But I'm grateful for what I had.

I believe in redemption. I believe in healing. I believe in restoration. I believe in ME. And I'm asking that you would, too. Please?

I love you. And you know. You KNOW.

Always,
Me

Money

Money.
It can't make you happy.
Nobody talks about it.
Everybody thinks about it.
You can never have enough of it.

Money has never been a huge issue in my life. I admit there are times that I have worried about making enough, but it was more about what I wanted than it was about what I needed. I've always been comfortable. The bills have always gotten paid. Until now.

I am in some sort of transition in my life that doesn't make any sense. I took a job God asked me to take, only to lose it six weeks later. I'm now struggling to survive on minimum wage and something just isn't adding up. I've been questioning God for a while now, and I pray hourly for there to be enough money.

There it is again. The money. It's not about the job. It's not about God. It's about the money.

We started a new series at church this week called "Empty Promises". It's about idols and the things in life that take all your time, thoughts, and energy. My pastor made the point that things like money won't give you peace. And yet, I must be a really screwed up believer because it seems the idea of having enough money WOULD give me peace. It WOULD help me sleep at night. But would it really?

I don't know what God is doing in my life right now, and I don't know if I have enough faith or patience to please Him. But I do know that when questioned about the things that take all my thoughts, money is at the top of the list. If you're honest, it's probably on yours, too. I'm praying that God shakes me of this in the coming weeks. I pray that even though it seems that I don't have enough, I can learn that He is my enough. And that money doesn't matter.

Money.
Can it make you happy?
Can it change your life?
Will there EVER be enough?

I don't know the answers to these questions, but I have a feeling I'm going to find out.

Fixed

Tonight I had a sudden, impromptu chance to visit a dear friend that I hadn't seen since her wedding nearly five years ago. I found her on facebook a few weeks ago (oh, technology) and was excited to finally have the chance to see her again. It had been too long.

We worked together when I was still in high school, and she was a little over my age now. Those were fun, carefree days that include more laughs, pranks, and strange occurrences than I can ever remember. My memories of her are very fond, and she is someone that has stayed on my mind through the years we haven't spoken.

She is special to me not only because of the fun times we shared, but because of the trip we took to hell and back together. The trip during which she held me, and held me down. She sat next to me (or under me, depending on how hard the day) while my mother lay in the hospital dying. She knew my heart, and she was the only one I would let hold me when I would finally let go and cry. She loved my mom, and she loved me, and that love has always stayed with me. Even through five years. Five long, hard years.

So when I saw her tonight, it was hard to know where to begin. Hard to know which stories to tell, hard to know which events were significant enough to share. Hard to remember what happened when, hard to describe how things felt when they happened. Hard to know when it went wrong, hard to pretend like it's always stayed good. Hard. Just hard.

As I thought about this tonight on my way home, I realized that maybe this is something that more people than just me struggle with. Wondering when it all went wrong. Wondering when good went bad, and when darkness fell. Wondering at what point I became no longer whole, but damaged instead.

I've been trying hard to fix myself lately. Doctors, medicines, changes in attitude and thinking; whatever it takes to fix me. A good friend recently told me that I didn't need to fix myself, because I wasn't broken. She said that I was simply learning and discovering and growing, and I just don't know how much of that makes sense to me right now. I know I'm not broken, But I'm damaged.

So when I wonder where it went wrong, when I could actually look back and see that everything in my life had gone wrong, I wonder how I can reverse it. How I can "fix" it. And that part...I know deep down that that part isn't broken either. It's dark, and it's hard, but maybe it is just damaged, too. Just like me. Maybe life is just a beautiful disaster, and maybe I wouldn't change a thing. Maybe it's made me who I am. Maybe it's helped God to change the heart He has given me. Maybe it's opened my eyes.

Maybe a lot has gone wrong, and maybe it seems like nothing is right, but maybe, just maybe I've done the best that I can. And maybe that is enough.

Still Holding On...

I paced back and forth through the room, angry and broken and screaming. Every few minutes I would stop and fall on my knees, and cry out and plead. I couldn’t make sense of it. I couldn’t bear the thought of it. So I know that you couldn’t, either. My heart is intertwined with yours, and yours with mine, and it has been that way for a while now. You worry about me, and I used to tell you not to, but I don’t do that anymore. Because I worry about you, and if you didn’t let me I would get mad. So when your life is falling apart in front of our eyes, my heart breaks with yours. That’s just how I work.

I’m falling apart/Barely breathing/With a broken heart/That’s still beating

It was halfway through my day of tears and loss of hope that something occurred to me that should have occurred to me weeks ago. There was no way you were going to take this step alone. I was so afraid that you wouldn’t let me be there with you, that you would be your independent self, but when I told you that I took the day off to be there, you didn’t argue with me. That surprised me. I don’t know if the idea of me being next to you that day was more for you or for me, but it doesn’t matter. I’m just so glad you let me be there.

I knew I looked like hell when I came to ask you if you were sure. I know I probably looked like hell that morning, too. Coffee in hand, here comes the test of true faith. We threw things in boxes, we joked and we tried to do anything we could to keep from breaking down. And when you walked into his room, into the room where you have laughed and cried and rocked and read and been filled with more emotion than any heart other than a mother’s can hold, and you started looking for what you needed to take, I knew that it was over. I had to look away from you because the pain written all over you was so blinding that it hurt my eyes. I was strong enough through that one to let you break, and kiss you on the cheek when you were done. It was going to be okay.

I’ve known for a long time that you wouldn’t be able to walk out the front door without completely losing it. That’s what I saw in my mind when I knew I needed to take the day off. And you did. You lost it. And we walked out the door, and we walked to our cars, and I had to turn around. I had to face the other way. Because I broke for you, and I didn’t want you to see. I got in line behind the moving truck, and you led. And we drove. And we cried, and we drove.

“Do not be afraid and do not be dismayed at this great horde, for the battle is not yours but God’s. You will not need to fight in this battle. Stand firm, hold your position, and see the salvation of the LORD on your behalf, O Judah and Jerusalem. Do not be afraid and do not be dismayed.”

When we got there, you were excited to show me the house. You asked me over and over if the house was ok. It’s perfect, for what it is. When everything was moved in, when it was over and done with, that’s when I needed you to let me hold you. And you did. Just for a moment. And we sat, and we cried and we questioned, and all I could think of was redemption. It’s just within your reach. And my love for you seemed to grow by the hour.

If I lay here/If I just lay here/Would you lie with me and just forget the world

The conversations we had at lunch were conversations that God put in place before either one of us were created. He wants you to know how loved you are. He wants you to know how much you’re worth, and how you deserve much greater things than you could ever even imagine. He wants you to know that the mistakes, the heartache, the regrets, and the guilt are not things that His children are supposed to have. He wants you to put them on Him, instead. He’s holding you. Stop fighting his embrace.

Getting in my car and leaving you there was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. I knew I needed to go, but the very idea of the pain that was coming to you was not one that I could tolerate. I told you that God would break your heart open, and as you are finding out, it is some of the worst pain that you will ever feel. But it’s necessary. And so difficult to watch from the outside.

The good news? It will end. You will be ok. It will not be dark forever. The bad news? You have to stare straight into the face of God to get there. And deep down in my heart, I know you eventually will. You just have to do it on your own, and it has to be your decision. And for me, that is the hardest thing in the world. I want you to have everything, but I am not the One that can give it to you.

So I stand by, and I wait. And I am not patient, but I wait. And I pray, and I cry. I cry for you, and I cry with you. I cry because I’ve tasted freedom, and I can’t share it with you. I cry because I can see how close you are, and I so badly want to run to you and push you off the edge. But you have to jump on your own.

Just so the world can watch you fly…

November

When I came home and took off my sweatshirt, I noticed that I smelled distinctly of two things. Grease and cigarettes. Two comforting things. I knew it would be important to find something comforting after my unsettling evening; I hate coming home and regretting where I've been and what I've said. I tried hard to see past my mood, to deny the things bubbling out of me, but it wasn't with much success. Today just wasn't a good day. It's been a while since I've had a good day. It's November.

I have no idea how I'm going to stomach even the idea of tomorrow, even the idea of a family holiday. Every year I seem to get a little more disconnected, a little more unaffected. I wish I knew how many more years it was going to take before going home from work for a holiday weekend doesn't make me cry. I wish I knew how much longer it is going to take before I adjust to being alone on the days no one should.

There aren't words for how it feels to have no one to spend holidays with. So I have to take comfort in the familiar. In the feel of the cool winter air on my bare skin. In the sound of the traffic far away on a clear night. In the sight of the stars, shining with glimmers of hope. In the smells on my clothes, the smells of things that taste good and calm my soul. The peace is found there, in the tiny things found by my senses, and for that I am thankful. After all, it is the day to be thankful, right?

You Know What I Mean...

You know those mornings when you wake up, and you really don't want to do it again today?
You know when you don't know how you'll get through the whole day in one piece?
You know when you end up being late for work, and you wonder why you even bothered?
You know when your phone goes off, and one of you friends wants to know how you are, and you don't really know what to say?
You know when the morning drags and it feels like the day might never end?

You know when you get those random text messages from someone you rarely see, and they want to hang out after work?
You know when you suddenly feel wanted?
You know how good it feels when you get a random visitor at lunch, who just stopped by to see you?
You know how good it feels when someone buys you dinner, just to be nice?
You know how good it feels to hang out with someone who likes to be around you and makes you laugh?

You know those times when you realize that God knows exactly what you need, when you need it, and you notice He never fails to deliver?

You know those nights when you realize that you're going to be okay?

Yeah....I'm going to be okay....