Of late, when the midnight hour shifts, I have been pondering and drifting-the most unguarded time of day when I can finally meet myself. In that moment, I go back to basics. I question and dissect what it means to call you Lord. How long Father? How long until the pain bears fruit? Until your word is no longer a hollow echo in my heart? Void. I feel void of life,going through the motions and watching the clock tick. Someone once said that if you want to feel more alone,share your problems with your friends. I know now-more than ever-hurting people hurt people but I almost wish they had beaten me. It would be worse than their marked and stoic silence. Is my pain illegitimate? Too uncomfortable and honest to bear close inspection? There is an elephant in this room. Father,what is love? I no longer want to lay my heart in any man's hands, mankind is fickle and does not recognise it's own limitations, they were destined to drop it. My heart, that is.
I am learning that you gave me strength when I was unable to recognise it for what it was-your all sufficient,all encompassing grace. In that time, I didn't feel anchored, I was naked and felt as uncovered as a new-born. And yet I knew that from this body, I would see God. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. True to his name,the spirit of Python squeezed and squeezed, the breath of God was leaving me like a fire loses heat, like a girl-child loses innocence. My very bones felt weighed down and a fundamental principle was in question: was God still good? When will I fully understand that man cannnot be an adequate reflection of your piercing love? That how man treats me can never be a benchmark for how you see me? An Eternal glory to come,that far outweighs them all. Is this how it must be? You moulding and burning and stirring my faith, that my eternity may be rich with reward? This is the new normal. That it won't always be easy being down here. Father I miss home,the time when I was yet to be born out of your spirit, before my days on earth had begun and I was merely co-habiting with your spirit in heaven. Never alone, always covered and knowing nothing but the certainty of your presence. These things still remain and yet...I now know the terror of questioning whether you are really reigning and in command. One might say my faith is weak. Or even that my faith in you makes me weak. But there is no other name by which I am saved, no other place where I can know that the final outcome is good and pleasing and desirable.
I am no closer to knowing the final outcome. And understanding the route you have chosen to set me apart. All I know is that your word is whispering to me..."Come out from among them and be separate." Dare I fail to answer this call? I have seen the depraved look in the eyes who have tried and tried to fill years of longing and pain with the things of this world. In some ways I am no different, how often have I chosen the words of humans to sustain me, rather than your precious pearls of truth? The race began long before I understood...I feel I am in to deep. I can't ignore your call upon my life. I can't pretend that there is a medicine better than you. And so father, I will press towards you,straining towards your glorious mark and trying to remain consecrated. I desire to bring you pleasure and offer you my imperfect love. Please accept me. I need you much more than even I understand.
Help me Father.
There is indeed a conflict in being chosen. Called and anointed. The olives must be crushed in order to produce the true oil but sometimes I ask why you chose me to carry this burden. Some seem to remain so unscathed by life. Yet your love is higher.Wider.Deeper.Truer. I want to be free. I will get there. Even if it breaks me, this unchartered path leads me to a crossroad. A pivotal choice, am I going to let the pain I feel determine whether or not I see you as a good and just ruler. Am I going to P.U.S.H.Pray Until Something Happens. Or am I going to decide that hoping in you costs me something which I am no longer willing to pay? I will press and strain and be propelled towards that mark. If this is but a dim reflection, the glimpse I have seen will sustain me. In my brokenness, out cries the shrill and piercing cry of the phoenix, a symbol of my hard fought fight for freedom, the full and ripe revelation of the cross's power is being kept from me. The enemy has tried but he fights not where I am but rather where I am going. What glroy awaits Lord only you can say. But I will wait for you. I have heard it said that the snake may come in subtly but it is you who comes in suddenly.
And so my Lord, I will wait for you. Here I am Lord, please meet with me.