in the midst of being what seemed to be : lost, mis-shapen, craggy & run down due to emptiness… I felt Jesus remind me, “seek me during this process, little one. let Me chisel away at your life. at your heart.”
i sit here in silence, feeling overwhelmingly small in this little room of mine. i’ve called this room mine for a solid month. that’s all.
tapping to the rythm of testing & trials, i ask God a handful of ugly questions. digging down deep.
“if You’re a God of guidance & leading & shelter, then why does all of this make me feel so lost? like i’m stuck drowning in an ocean with absolutely no direction?”
i remember waking up in the car the morning before things got complicated, groggily becoming aware of my surroundings. all the familiar land marks & street signs. the routine jolt of coming up over the edge of their driveway.
i stepped through the door, my hands full from our travels – & sank into an unruly familiarity. this feeling didn’t have a name, but if it did it’s exactly how i would describe Jesus.
a charming stranger. a dear friend to catch up with over a cup of coffee. how he shocks the heart with untangible knowing.
He’s known our hearts since the day they learned the word “home.” & with grace, He etched His name into it’s definition.
i thought back to that same night. the night i left momma’s.
as i stood there folding clothes, stuffing bobby pins & notebooks into a duffle bag. i could hear ja singing to ariana grande downstairs & i could hardly handle it. i stopped my packing & sobbed alone in the quiet.
no more laughing to the point of tears on the kitchen counters. no more singing to christina aguilera in the car on the way to school every morning or listening to the familiar sound of chase playing video games in the living room.
the thought wrecked me.
i sat there on my bedroom floor for the last time, crying as i listened to her sing.
i felt stuck in the mess. i felt like a failure, gripping onto anything i could & calling it hope. my tomorrow’s all scared me & i couldn’t put my finger on why.
a new room. small, with a few things of my own in it. i’ve sat on this hardwood floor multiple times now, reliving this memory. each time writing it in a way that was deeper than the last. & this is it. this is as far down as we go, guys. & it’s pretty far.
i didn’t understand. i couldn’t wrap my mind around why this was how things had to be. why things had to be so complicated. i felt misplaced. utterly lost. i didn’t know where to turn to. i didn’t know who would listen.
but then came a still small voice, one that my ears had not heard for far too long.
“I’m here waiting.”
i got down on my knees, half clothed beside my dresser, clutching the remaining droor knobs.
i said “i’m sorry” so many times.
“change me, God. please bring me back.”
it was my own fault i didn’t have peace. i knew that. i knew it big time. it scared me & it humbled me. so there i sat, kneeling in my underwear & a yellow tank top. begging God to open the eyes & ears of this hellen keller child.
this season i’ve been given of not knowing, it’s a season to choose peace over the emptiness i have felt in my heart for so long. in the midst of being what seemed to be : lost, mis-shapen, craggy & run down due to emptiness… i felt Jesus remind me, “seek me during this process, little one. let me chisel away at your life. at your heart.”
out from the ashes, God creates His Kingdom. He pulls goodness from my questions. & He calms the raging sea that seems to sweep thr0ugh me.
never ever has He abandoned a child.
He who began a good work in you (& me) will surely finish what He set out to do. it may take your entire lifetime, but we serve a crafty God. He is the best adventurer. it’s in that fact i find myself known fully. as a whole. one of God’s art projects.