I’m sitting in a dark room wondering how I go from here. Many moons ago, in a similar quiet time, I called out in desperation. God heard. Not knowing, I was wrapped in invisible arms that I could feel. My tears stopped. I knew again that God existed. I still know.
I am alone. Passing moments of bliss can sometimes carry you forward. Sudden emotions can crush. Memories flood out noise. Hope tainted by over zealousness. I’m not confused. Everything is perfectly clear. Tears are not flowing. I’m being held back. What happens next? Do I sit waiting or do I stand moving? I keep making plans, to help others, just as I am. Sharing a zone of in-between. Nothing is etched in stone, so we flounder. I carry them and they carry me. Is this how the pilgrims felt, leaving home, yet knowing home is never here or there? Just breathes of worship rising, forming clouds, to rain back down on us, unsheltered from the storm.
Can you feel the arms? Their coming!
I really don’t understand anything. I can tell you what I’m experiencing at the moment. It’s not fear, confusion or strife. It’s not knowing what’s next. I’m free falling. I’m running but standing still. I’m crashing but waking up. I’m mixed up. Feeling high and low and upside down. Staying cooped up but stretching tall. Making myself move when I want to stay still. Never satisfied wherever I am. Never filling up. Always emptying. Groaning. Screaming so quieting only I can hear the terror.
I’m not tired but exhausted. Ready to crash but awake. Yearning for blankness to cover my head. Tired of talking but wanting to speak. Overwhelmed but calm. Screaming but quiet. Talking but silent. Wanting only to look but forced to speak. Weary this road I’m forced to walk.
Know one is wiser. Everyone is blindly following. Never questioning, always listening. Talking but saying nothing. Filling up the air with words but emptying the oxygen. It’s getting harder to breathe. Can you see straight?
I’m not feeling any better. Isn’t this suppose to make me feel relieved that someone can hear me. So why am I feeling worse about my days. I keep hearing tomorrow is just a day away. This too shall pass. Yet sorrow is a constant friend. It never ends. The joy can be renewed. It pushes against the boundaries that sadness makes for us. We can’t move beyond the box that traps us into sinking too deep. If I move will it see me? Grief is jealous of joy. It wants to steal. It lies its way back into my heart. Feeding guilt into my head. It’s prowling around me now. I see it’s blood stained eyes, teeth and claws. Scratching at my flesh. Wanting to kill what’s left of my soul. Waiting to devour me whole. Hoping to make me stumble in the dark, as I grope to find the light. It’s real. This cannot be seen, but it exists.
It will wait for me and strike at my weakest. I look up, in my agony, and cry in silence only my Creator can hear…”do you see me? Can u help me? Am I lost?” Darkness will then settle. From the depths no one can fathom, rises a light no one sees. Strange how light can go unnoticed. Blindness not by sight but by heart. Wilderness pleas! Rescue me! How the plan unfolds. It is not how I would have wrote my play. The twist and turns are too strong. I’m overwhelmed. And then the joy explodes.
Do I feel the arms? I’m waiting.
Psalm 90:13 Return, O LORD; how long will you tarry? be gracious to your servants.