Sour Note

It seems everyday is one step forward, then two back. I'm hoping it only feels that way. I'm praying the truth is much different. I guess only time will tell.

As I continue to come down from the high of pain, the view is not what I expected. The landscape is much bleaker, much more devastating and scary. Terrible, I know.

When I last went to therapy, I asked her if I would be like this forever. Broken, jaded, hurt, angry and cynical. Would I ever return to the joyful, fearless version of myself? Or would I remain damaged, never knowing the freedom of complete and total redemption? Would I always be waiting on the platform, watching everyone else's train come through? She said there was never a way to know, but that I had choices along the way as well. It didn't help at all.

The thing I fear most is not being alone, I'm not lonely, ironically, I feel closer to my friends and family and the Lord, than I ever have. It's not being without him, I gotten this far, I'll live another day, and yet another and yet another. It's not worrying that I will never heal, I believe time and prayer will continue to soften the blow, someday bringing me back to smiling again. No, it's none of those. The biggest, most looming, worst fear I could ever know, is never loving anyone the way I loved him.

I walked into my house today, saw the Christmas tree my mom bought and broke down. Tears started streaming and I could barely get up the stairs. We used to spend Christmas together. I loved it. I always came home to him. We used to sit on my bed and talk for hours. I would run into his arms and he would pick me up and hold me so tight. We were inseparable. There was more passion, kismet, attraction, love, connection, chemistry and beauty between us than I still have yet to witness in any other couple. It just never had a chance to grow through honesty, work and hardship.

What I fear now is never feeling that again. I have yet to meet a man I could even imagine loving that much. No one has ever held my attention, my passion, my focus, no one have I ever admired, felt adored and so connected with. I hate to think it was all in my imagination, all false and full of ignorance and doubt, but according to him, that's the case. Apparently he was never really that sure, never really loved me that way and it was more real for me than for him. The trouble is, even if he is right and it was all just in my head, well I still have the long term effects of loving someone as deeply as I did him. He may be walking away comfortable, safe in the knowledge that we were never right for each other and we weren't meant to be, but I'm not. This was it for me, I was sold, and I used to think he was too. I guess I was fooled. I guess my heart was hoodwinked and I was completely unaware of the treachery at hand.

But now I am left with the wreckage, the remnants of the most beautiful love I have ever seen and I fear nothing will ever look the same again. It's almost like going to Trump palace and then having to move into a shanty. How do I ever make this home? Will I have to settle for a muted version of what I had? Or will I never be able to, thus doomed to a life as a cat lady, hoping for an illusive image of some love lost? Both seem probable, neither appetizing.

Everyone tells me to have faith, to believe that's not God's heart for me. I want so badly to believe them, but when you have been dealt the blows I have, when you have continuously watched good things die, eventually you stop hoping and cynicism seems more practical and less disappointing.

I guess this is where letting others have faith for me comes in. I'm not going to lie, I don't know what to believe. There's always an excuse, a reason why things don't work out, but eventually excuses and reasons mean so little as the pattern becomes the more prominent message.

I don't hold it against God. I've been down that road, He brought me back. I also know, however, He will not control people. So somehow, throws puts me back into the great open sea of subjectivity. He will not control people and their decisions, thus, people are able to hurt, kill and destroy. As this is true, the question becomes how can He ever bless me through a sort of love? So the love of my life decided he didn't love me anymore, God won't stop that. Does that mean there is a chance I will never meet someone that could possibly love me forever? I mean, He won't control people, so how can I trust that He will "bring" me someone? Is it a random sequence of events and coincidences? Or are the strategically done? And if they are strategically done, how is that any different than controlling someone? Is there a difference between determining an outcome, as in the case of Him wanting to prove Himself through the Ten Commandments, and stopping someone from making a stupid decision like letting an incredible love slip away? How are they different and what makes one more accessible to Him than the other?

Don't get me wrong, I would never have wanted him to stay with me if God was the only thing keeping him there. I would want it to be a choice. So maybe that's my answer. It's all about choices. That begs the question though: Why put me through it if He knew what would happen? I guess that's an easy one though. The trite, yet accurate answer of drawing me closer to Him comes to mind. It feels trifling though, somehow unfair.

At the end of it all, I'm going to be sincerely pissed if He let me love this much and lose this much only to never know love as good again. There could have been a million ways God could have revealed Himself to me, but it would be particularly cruel for him to use the method of great love lost to never redeem it. Maybe I could be happier without it, maybe that's supposed to be the miracle. Maybe I will be happier in life alone, serving Him without someone else. I guess that could be true. All I know is, I can never go back, never settle, never not know what it's like to have loved this much and that sucks.

Experience would tell me that end result is most likely. Nothing good ever lasts. How hopeless is that? How depressing? Well, trying being in my head. I can't even begin to describe how true it feels... and that scares me. It scares the hell out of me.

In John 10, Jesus says "I do not do the works of My Father, do not believe Me; but if I do them, though you do not believe Me, believe the works, that you may know and understand that the Father is in Me and I in the Father."

At some point I'm going to have to see a miracle... and a big one at that. And even more so, a permanent one. I'm going to need to see in expression the way He says He loves me. I'm going to need to see I'm not damaged goods, destined to a life of second rate living. Someday, He's going to have to raise part of me from the dead and it's going to have to stick. It's not a challenge, a test or even a threat. It's just simply one of those places where if He wants me to believe something different, He will have to show me different. I'm only as good as the messages I receive.

I hate ending on such a sour note, but then again, what else to I have to end on, as of right now?

Happy Birthday to Me

Well, the day I was dreading the most has come and gone. It's over. Another hurdle passed, another moment I feared completed. Funny, it's true what they say, "What doesn't kill you makes you stronger." I hate that saying. I hate that it's true.

I was talking with my mom and sister about what it means to be strong tonight. We were talking about how I have been walking through these last few months and what they meant to me. My sister said one of the most amazing things to me I have heard in a long time. She said, "No matter what, I have watched you walk into a more settled sense of yourself than I have ever seen before. You have embraced the pain, the heartache, the hurt and the rejection and it has made you more real, more authentic, more you, than you have ever been."

I cried. It was such a compliment, I couldn't handle it.

See, the truth is, I can't begin to describe the deep feelings of rejection I have been subjected to in these last few months, the pain, the loss, the deep grief. But to be honest, as I have walked into them, allowed them to be true, faced them, brought them in, not blamed others, but been honest with myself, allowed them to be real, powerful, to let them change me, correct me, speak to me, open my eyes and then take them to my Father and ask Him His opinion, I have settled. I've stopped running from who I am, who others are, what I want, what I love, what I can handle, what I can't handle, what I do want, what I don't want... all of it. It has spoken a level of truth to me I didn't know was true.

I am a messed up, scarred, deformed, beaten, angry, ugly, bitter, frustrated, judgmental, confused, doubtful, ignorant, blind, beautiful, hopeful, frightened, loving, loyal, real, blessed, miraculously saved, wife of the most Holy God of all Gods. I am unworthy and deserved at the same time. I am the discrepancy, the terribly wonderful image of a Lord that sought me and decided a life without me was no life at all, so He gave His life in desire to have me for eternity. It chased me when I ran. It's the most beautiful, graceful, loving romance I have ever known, and it's all mine.

When I am rejected, hurting, cast aside and betrayed, that message, that truth from sources on this earth, they aren't the last word. The last laugh is had by a truth far beyond my understanding. When I feel lost, out of place, too old, too fat, too intense, too emotional, too anything, He comes along and says, "You are my miracle. Your heart is a miracle to me. I'm too proud for words."

I hear it as I walk to escalators to work, as I set up stock, as I smile at my coworkers hoping they will know a better love, a better hope, a better message than they have been given. I hear Him say it as I miss the love of my life, as I walk away from someone that decided to not love me, I hear it as I put one foot in front of the other, fearing I will never know love again. I listen to His same voice as I get in my car, put on my ear phones and listen to the Song of all Songs as I worship on my way to and from work. I hear it as I hurt over lost friends, loved ones and time. I hold tight to it as I watch another year go by feeling older, more beat up and less ready for the rest of my life. I intently focus on it as I watch a young dad and his child holding hands down the street, feeling my heart constrict with desire, longing and missing. I hear Him call me His miracle as I choose to believe that my life has the value He has determined, knowing if I never know the desires of my heart, His have been met, I have done His will, I have loved Him, kept Him, trusted Him, hoped in Him, even when the light had been burned out, my path was dark and my life was gone. I chose to believe Him and that, that is enough.

Maybe my sister is right, maybe I am more real than I have ever been, but that would only be for one reason: my reason for living is ever more real in me.

As this year passes, I grieve so deeply. It hurts so much. My self-esteem, my heart took hits right and left I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy, but still, I will worship. This last year has taught me that. From heights to depths, from hopes to crushes, from great joy to great loss, from the mountain to devastation I have seen in a short amount of time. Still though, I will worship.

I am not real. I am a figment of His imagination, here for a short moment, but my love my love will go on for eternity. My choices remain permanent when time passes like a mist. I am so old, yet so young and only in a breath will I know eternity with Him. Why waste another moment worrying? He is mine and I am His. That's enough for now.

Happy birthday to me if only to celebrate Him in my life. He will redeem, He will raise, He will bless, He will bring amazingness (if that's a word). My enemies will one day regret, my heart will one day be vindicated, my choices realized. Maybe not in this life, but in another. I will rejoice knowing that He purposed me, my life and my hopes in Him.

Into You I commit my spirit. I am Yours Father. I trust You. I worship You. You are good, You are true and You are mine. I worship You for You brought me to being. I may not want another year like this, but I know You will not give me a stone. I'm in awe of Your heart. I trust You Father. I trust You.... I trust You.... I trust You... thank You.

Water and Vinegar

For the last two months I have mourned deeply and fully. I have cried, paced, bargained, yelled, cried some more, thrown things, picked up the pieces, cried some more, written, read and watched a ton of TV. I avoided starting life, started life, then cried some more.

Slowly though, I've started to laugh again. Every once in a while it will sneak up on me. I'll make a joke, someone else will, or something funny will just happen and I will find myself breaking out in a genuine smile of enjoyment. The wound has been bandaged and the blood is starting flow again.

I've watched my world fall apart in the last few months. Love, friendship, career, all up in a puff of smoke, in what seemed like mere moments. Accepting that much loss is hard. Accepting that much pain is hard, but none of it has been without it's rewards.

When you first go through a devastation, people want to give you the platitudes that only help after the fact. There's a sort of crest and build to pain before the other side starts to become visible. When the break first happens, there is a sort of crescendoing of hurt. The denial has a way of keeping it at bay, but as that starts to break down, when the damn starts to leak and the pressure/reality starts to set in, the flooding of grief crushes. It overwhelms and absolutely kills, especially when a life and dream was attached to it. That's when people, as wonderful as they are, try so hard to help, but fall so short. All of the "You will be better for this" or the "You will learn so much about yourself" or even worse, "It was a blessing in disguise, he doesn't deserve you" sayings make you want to throttle anyone and everyone in sight. There is almost a visceral sort of reaction where you just want to tell that person that they are completely stupid and to help raise the average standard of intelligence in America, they should probably refrain from speaking ever again.

Thank God that fades. It takes a while, but it fades. As the apex of the pain starts to diminish, a clearer picture of what really happened gradually starts to take shape, and forgiveness settles in. It still hurts, so much so, but ever stupid thing anyone ever said starts to maybe make just a little bit of sense and those words usher in a lifesaving measure of peace. There are still no excuses, no good reasons, no real feelings of thankfulness, but faith becomes necessity, then life and somewhere in that transition, as trust builds between the faith Giver and the receiver, that peace moves into a love that builds on itself. The good desires of God's heart becomes the real reason for living and things start to fall into perspective.

I screwed up. We've established that, but no one person is responsible for anything. I may have screwed up in execution, but my heart was always the same: intimacy and growth. That wasn't met, for whatever reason. It hurts like hell, but I would rather be alone, than settle. I can't live life that way. It certainly opens up the possibility of never meeting anyone that can meet me there, but in the end, the Lord is enough. I would rather be alone and satisfied in the Lord than trying to make someone want to be with me that doesn't, or make myself want to be with someone that I'm not happy with. And to be honest, it's a lot easier to be single. No distractions, devastations, no ups and downs all of the time... and I'm okay with that.

The hard part is knowing I am making a conscious decision to walk away from pursuit of anything that isn't a direct path of God. As the grief starts to come to a close, the choices begin. As I have grown and changed from the experience, the options have as well. How am I really going to live this life, what am I really going to trust and who really am I going to put my trust in? All those stupid quips from people come back to haunt in a deep and real way. They were right, you do learn a lot about yourself from these torments... and yes, I will live.

Now though, I am left to try and piece together how to live in a kingdom I have really never known. As one has left my heart, Another has come in to rescue it, to revive and take claim. My allegiance to self, to the world and anything else has shifted, but with it, my whole world view. I find myself unsure of how to execute a life I am just now beginning to understand. If there is no real hope outside of a life with Jesus, which I firmly believe, than allowing Him to become bigger than anything else is the goal. I guess I couldn't be in a better place and time to start that.

Other than the family and friends I treasure, I have a blank pallet of a life and figuring out where to start is more intimidating than I thought it would be, especially alone. That's okay though. For once, I am starting at ground zero, nothing to lose, nothing to let hold me back and I can watch Him rebuild my life in His time, His way, in His kingdom. My new found servitude has brought a certain amount of peace I had yet to know until now. My varied and interesting background lends itself to finding the answer when I don't have one directly in front of me, but this time I am choosing to do something I have never done, not search.

I have a simple job, with simple requirements, simple needs, simple desires and simple hopes. Nothing complicated, overpowering or imposing. No dreams of grandeur, no day dreams of romance novel endings, no power-mongering tendencies to quash. Very simply, I have no desire other than to know, have, feel, experience, receive, give, pour out, learn, teach and express the Love of God. For my every breath to not feel belabored and full of anxiety, I repeat Scripture, remember His presence, feel His touch and breath deeply in the fullness of His hope and resurrecting powers. Down and dirty; I'm desperate and that's enough. Truthfully it's enough if only because He shows up and I want for nothing. I asked for love, rescue and Him and He came through. That's a dream come true.

So as I let my feet recover on my day off, I still back, read some, journal a lot and ask one simple question: what now? As I come down from my brutal last few months, I open up, let myself feel the hurt mingle with Your love. Water and vinegar, right? My great Savior, my great Lover.

Where to? What can I do for You? How would you like me to execute this life You have given me? If my life is a gift, I give it back, asking for just the fullness of knowing You are living it with me. My schedules been cleared, it seems my date book is empty from now until... forever. Got any ideas? I'm sure You do. Let me know when You want to drop one on me. I'll be worshipping until then. If I know nothing but You and Your love for the rest my life, if I spend the rest of my days worshipping with no greater ending, purpose, or hope, if I give my heart to You and all I ever really know is Your presence in return, that would be more than a gift, it would be perfection... and for once, not only do I think it, but I know it.

Game Player

My ex text me last night. It was nothing big, it was actually a really nice thought. Just a note telling me he was praying for me. A sort of "Hey, you were on my mind sort of thing... hope things are going well." I know he meant well, I know he was trying to be nice, but to me it was a knife to the gut. A quick and swift one-two punch when I was already down for the count.

I'm woman enough to admit to the myriad of emotional responses I had. At first I didn't want to respond. I wanted to ignore him the way he had me before, or say something mean and snide back. I wanted to shout and rail and ask him why he would contact me if he was the one walking away from me. Why torture me for his own pleasure? Why rub my nose in the loss, making it worse and worse, hoping for a second he would feel better, less guilty, less mean for walking away so cleanly after 2 1/2 years. Then as time wore on, the anger subsided and I wanted to text him back how much I missed him. I wanted to tell him how much I loved him, how I wanted nothing more than to make things work and to love him for the rest of my life. I wanted to cry and plead and beg. He wasn't a jerk and he knew it and I knew. I couldn't be mad. So, I did nothing.

I went to worship, I cried, I read Psalm 102, 119 and most anything else I could get my hands on. I wrote in my journal, then I set it aside and told God how good He was. I let go of everything again. I let myself know that God is sovereign, His hope is good and my trust was complete. I worshipped not caring what would happen, but instead just letting God be God.

Then I went home and did the only thing I knew to do. I wrote back thank you, that I was doing well and I was praying for him too. I decided to play no games. I decided to take no control, I decided to try to change nothing.

For me, anything besides perfect authenticity has become nothing short of a complete lie. I could fight for power, fight for my "rights" fight for closure, I could try and make him feel pain, feel guilt or even try and make him miss me. I could try and phrase every word, every phrase, every syllable, every placement of an exclamation point, wondering what they all mean, how he will interpret them, or what I should think or do.... but what would it change? What would it really do?

Playing games in life means there are other players. The worst part of grief is admitting the other person has exited the relationship. I could try and convince myself, others and even him he is still somehow tied to me, but it would change nothing, all it would do is keep me in a place where I can't move forward. It may be the most painful thing I can ever do, but admitting there is nothing I can do, setting it down and walking away is the most honest, real thing I can accomplish.

In that place, realizing there is no point to self-protection becomes clear. What harm is there is admitting how much I still love him, how much I still want to be with him when I know it will change nothing? Whether or not I admit to where I am at makes no difference in what is going to happen. What I do or do not say is not going to change his mind, change the future, or make this situation any better, but walking around pretending things don't hurt, don't rip me in two, don't make me want to crawl into a ball and cry isn't going to help either. Why play games when there is no game to play?

The Lord has never held back from me. He has never pushed and pulled, admitting to loving, then trying to protect Himself, wanting to be with me, then pulling back, hoping somehow it will change my mind. He is consistent, kind, honest and passionate for me. I may as well learn to exemplify that in my own life. If I love, I love, if I hurt, I hurt, if I cry I cry, if I'm depressed, I'm depressed. What's the difference? Trying to convince myself, others, or God of something else isn't going to make it any different.

I'm always tempted to try to contact my ex and tell him how much I still love him, how much I want to be with him, how it feels like there could be no one else, but I won't. Not because I'm trying to preserve some sort of pride, or some level of control, but for a completely different reason. I don't because he has said he wants to move on with his life, that he doesn't want to be with me, and I have to respect that. I don't contact him because it's best for me and for him. The best way I can love him is by choosing to walk away from him everyday, its by choosing to let him go by letting myself let go. It's by praying for the man that will be my husband, since he has chosen to not be. It's by not playing games, not keeping myself going back for more, it's by honoring mine and his heart by letting the Lord come in and fill the holes I feel so deeply. It's by believing that my trust in the Father is going to be honored, one way or another. It's by taking away the pressure on my ex and me and the Lord by saying I believe God is so good He can give me another that I will love just as much, that will love me just as much.

I will never lie, my ex is the one I want, he's the one I love. I can't imagine life with anyone else, but the fact that he can, the fact that he wants that, I have to believe the Lord is so good he won't let me stay here. I don't know how long it will take and maybe it will last until God brings me the man who will choose to be my husband, sealing that last bit of loss. Maybe it will be tomorrow miraculously, as overnight the grief disappears. Maybe it will be in a few months when the spring comes to wipe away the death of winter. I know it will get better and I will stop hurting as badly as I do now, and eventually I will see the light of a different day, the hope of another moment and maybe I will start to see the shadow of a different future, but until then, I won't play the game of not admitting to where I am at this moment because that's a game I can't play.

I won't try to control myself, other people, or the situation enough by being anything but kind in return for kindness, there's no point. There could be a million and a half reasons for why he text me when and what he did, but none of them matter. In the end, he was trying to be nice and though he fell short, his motives were the same. I would love to villainize him, believe I "ducked a bullet" as some say, or that he "doesn't deserve any response" as others would say. It would be easy and maybe make me feel better for a split second, but then as the reality sinks back in that everyday he wakes up and decides to not love me that day and I still wish, with every part of me that he did, the pain isn't going to go away. Telling myself he is a jerk and I'm not losing much isn't going to make me miss him less anymore, besides, I know, deep down, it's not true. He is trying to be a nice guy, and that's why I fell in love with him in the first place and that's what hurts so badly now. He's just trying to be nice and all it does is remind me again of how much I love him and how much I miss him and it hurts like hell. Playing a game to make myself feel better isn't going to help. It's not going to take away the memories, the dreams I have at night of him, the things I wish I'd done different, the hurt of feeling like half of me is gone.

Instead I stop playing the game, I sit in my room and I cry. I try to distract myself by imagining myself blond, I watch shows I know make me laugh and I read the Scriptures that bring comfort to my heart. I pray for healing, I go to work, I get through today hoping that when enough days are strung together and enough time has gone by, he will be less in my present and more in my past, more apart of a finished chapter rather than one I am still filling the pages of. I may hate it, I may wish it were different, I may want it to not be this way, but that's not going to change it and nothing I can do, say, or not do or not say is going to bring a different result. I let go and let God be God, worshipping Him when I just don't understand, when my soul hurts in ways I didn't know were possible, when I hate reality and need to know there is a God so big, so good, so great and so loving I can let go completely and trust, waiting for Him to bring about the spring. He hears me and plays no games with my heart. He is in control and I trust Him through my tears.

I cling to the promises of my Father and I put my head down, putting one foot in front of the other, not allowing myself to get sidetracked by hopeless daydreams and visions of grandeur. He will rebuild me, He will bring me what He wants, He will bless me, He already has, but playing games isn't going to bring it about any faster. I'm described as a servant, a child, a bride, a sister and a friend, but never, ever a player.

False Salvations

Yesterday I helped lead worship at church. I haven't done it in months. The night before I had another moment of hardship, but was lucky enough to have a friend talk me through with patience and kindness. He told me the faith I was showing in asking the questions I was asking was proof enough of my heart for the Lord and to relax. The next morning I got up, threw on a sweatshirt, my crappy jeans, threw my hair in a ponytail, refused to do my makeup and got to church. I spent the first two songs sitting on a stool, hunched over "worshipping." After a few songs a verse from Job entered my mind; "Though He slay me, I will hope in Him." I'm not going to lie, I felt afflicted, slayed and destroyed for no reason by the Lord. I was mad, hurt and frustrated, but something broke right then. I thought what if I decided to really believe He was good even now? What if I really threw myself at Him and worshipped even though I feel so broken?

So I did... and something beautiful happened. For the first time in my life, I worshipped recklessly. I stopped caring what was happening and I just worshipped. I stopped caring what was happening in my life, what people thought, what I wanted, what I thought I deserved, what mattered most, how I was wronged, why God was wrong and I was right and I just worshipped. I called Him good, I called Him great, I called Him mine... and I cried. I got off the stool, raised my hands and let the tears stream as I let myself love Him even when He was afflicting me. I let myself trust Him even when it felt He was untrustworthy and I let go of everything but just believing for a moment that whatever He was doing was right and good.

It was probably the best worship we have had at church in months. We decided to go longer than usual and just kept repeating over and over how good He was.

There are many things to find salvation in. So often I find mine in people or things. Whether its a friendship or a pint of Haagaen-Dazs peanut butter chocolate, for that moment, I am saved. There is something comforting my soul, making the day a little shorter and the night a little less cruel. Reality suspends and endorphins run freely bringing a momentary sense of goodwill. Then, when the crash eventually comes again, that temporary high has left me just that, high and dry.

For those of you that think this is something done only in the darkest hours, try again. Every thing that we do selfishly, whether its a shopping, watching TV, a sport or reading, when it becomes the escape, the momentary relief, it becomes a cheap substitute for salvation.

What is really interesting is when that momentary relief stops becoming enough. True affliction comes when there is no escape anymore. When nothing satisfies the bleeding and there is no end to the ache in sight. When finally, we are so broken that there is nothing that can staunch the flow. No amount of TV, reading, shopping, exercise or calorie counting eases the burdens of futility.

In Psalms, David describes this feeling when he says "My heart is blighted and withered like grass; I forget to eat my food. Because of my loud groaning I am reduced to skin and bones... For I eat ashes as my food and mingle my drink with tears because of your great wrath, for you have taken me up and thrown me aside." (Psalm 102:6&5, 9&10)

When this moment strikes, when there is nothing left to rescue, when the false salvations no longer work, when everything we reach for to bring a split second of relief falters and we are left groaning through clenched teeth, watching the life we were once given quickly turning to dust and ashes, we find the bottom of ourselves. The padded room becomes a very real possibility and every last hope is cast onto the only thing that can save, the only thing that holds any real hope of being more permanent than the pint of ice cream lying empty and unfulfilling next to me.

"In the course of my life he broke my strength; he cut short my days. So I said 'Do not take me away, O my God, in the midst of my days; your years go through all generations. In the beginning you laid the foundations of the earth, and the heavens are the work of your hands. They will perish, but you will remain; they will wear out like a garment. Like clothing you will change them and they will be discarded. But you remain the same and your years will never end.'" (Psalm 102: 23-27)

There is only one thing that is capable of saving and when I find the end of me, that is when I need Him most and finally recognize it. There is nothing that will satisfy and heal, there is no hope aside from Him.

If right now I could get everything I wanted and have the life I pictured, if everything was "set right" and I was handed back all of the things I thought would satisfy, I know, in a bittersweet way, it would not satisfy. It wouldn't fix, or redeem, or make my life worth living. There is no love, no relationship, no job, no home, no friend, no family, no community, no amount of money, no scenario, no weight loss, no pair of shoes, no car, no flavor of Dorito or degree on a wall that is going to bring a wholeness to my heart. That becomes so real, so apparent, so perfectly true when I find myself at the end of a rope I didn't know existed. I beg, pray and NEED a salvation that won't waste away with time, that won't chafe with mistakes, that won't wear off with the newness. I need a salvation that comes in and means a lifetime of hope, a lifetime of love and meaning and purpose outside of me and what I can produce. It is a salvation that is dependent on a perfect God that makes promises that won't let me down as others have.

Later, in Psalm 119, David says, "May your unfailing love come to me, O Lord, your salvation according to your promise... Do not snatch the word of truth from my mouth, for I have put my hope in your laws... It was good for me to be afflicted so that I might learn Your decrees.... May your unfailing love be my comfort according to the promise to your servant. Let your compassion come to me that I may live, for your law is my delight."

When a heart has been so rendered as to find nothing left but a need for sanity only found in the word of God, a desperation meets a great love and something breaks. A beautiful moment of peace settles in a place no one can see and a communication begins between a holy God and an unholy servant. A humbling realization that there will never be anything more real than this very relationship, that for ever I will be broken and wear the limp of wrestling and finding no hope in anything but a heavenly promise.

In that brokenness comes a fragile trust, a small growth of faith that will move a mountain. It's the faith that begins to acknowledge that worship, belief, hope and love come only when He rescues. Everything else has failed, but "don't snatch the word of truth from my mouth, because I have put my hope in your laws."

In this moment, I am putting my everything into who the Lord is and what He says is true, so Lord, honor my faith in You. The Lord knows so deeply how hard this faith life is. He doesn't ask for a faith that sees no rescue. If He has made a promise, it is a covenant and to break it is to cease being who He is. Since that is not possible, I lift my head and ask for an unfailing love, for a peace that passes understanding, for a salvation that isn't captured in a small box on this earth... and he comes through.

My heart is laid to rest. I can breathe free knowing He is near. I will wake up tomorrow and the hurricane of life will still have torn everything to shreds. I will drive the same car, wear the same shoes, have the same body and still have lost the love of my life, but one thing I will have, the most irreplaceable thing I could have: a reservoir of faith that is a gift from heaven above. I will still cry, I will still hurt for a while. Everything isn't "fixed" or redeemed, but my heart, my heart is safe. I have hidden Him in my heart and I for once, nothing needs to be righted. He has proved Himself faithful and that is enough. When I have thrown my fits, accused Him of cruelty, begged for forgiveness, then done it again, He has remained, loving me in ways I didn't even know. He has built a faith in me that I didn't ask for, a hope I don't deserve and a peace I desperately needed. I may not have the luxuries of life, I may still have my moments of fear and frustration, but my heart is beginning to breathe in a way I hadn't know was possible.

I don't know how He is going to bring me out of this place, I just know He is. I don't know how He is going to rescue me, but I know He will. Psalm 102 later says: "You will arise and have compassion on Zion, for it is time to show favor to her; the appointed time has come. For her stones are dear to your servants; her very dust moves them to pity."

He has already started His Great Rescue, His great romance, His great salvation. I don't know where it will take me. I don't know when I will meet the man who will choose to be my husband, I don't know when that place of wounding will be healed. I don't know when I will find the job, or ministry He wants for me. I don't even know where to begin looking. I don't know when I will get to have the babies I want, I keep feeling the heartache of it deeply. All I know is that if I ask for bread He's not going to give me a stone and I can trust Him. My heart is safely in His hands, even as it has broken and I know He has a plan I can't even imagine. I know it begins now, today even as I worship alone, quiet in my room, waiting for Him to come in and touch my heart again. It starts as I give my every last part of myself to Him looking for His salvation rather than a false one that will tarnish with time. I know it starts as I watch myself become more and more broken by Him and softer and more compassionate on His people. I know it starts as I end and that's enough for now.

Defenses

I have spent a lifetime creating and maintaining a defense system that worked fairly well. A whole system of thinking, of being, of viewing others that kept me safe. This was good, this was bad, this was in between. I liked this, I didn't like this, I wanted this, I didn't want this. This person needed to be this way or it meant they weren't what they should be. I needed to be a certain way, or it meant I wasn't what I should be. Categories for people, places and things. Black and white, everything under a heading, making sense of the chaos. The bad was because I was bad, the good was because I was good. If you were good you were rewarded by me, if you were bad, you were punished by me, all in a thousand little subtle and not so subtle ways. Everything was packaged neatly, presented with care and precision.

Then in one fell swoop, or maybe a series of swoops, everything changes. Something bad, or good happens with no explanation, no warning, no real reason. Promises are broken good behavior no longer earns the gold star and there is nothing left to hang my hat on for understanding, dissection or order to the chaos. Nothing works anymore. I don't work anymore. The play by play to guarantee an outcome has failed and left me more broken than before. No longer do the same rules apply. In fact, no rules apply.

Everything I judged the world, myself and others by disappears in one maddening moment. How is it all possible? How do you make sense of this chaos, this terror in the night? Job says: "Look at me and be astonished, and put your hand over your mouth. Even when I remember I am disturbed, and horror takes hold of my flesh. Why do the wicked still live, continue on and also become very powerful? Their descendants are established with them in their sight, and their offspring before their eyes, their houses are safe from fear, neither is the rod of God on them." (Job 21:5-9)

Job had been faithful. He had made sacrifices for himself, for his children, for things he couldn't even think of. He held to the path, he obeyed. He feels the injustice deeply in his soul. Nothing was making sense. Where were the promises? Everything was in a deep chaos, a deep loss he couldn't comprehend. Tossed back and forth from one torment to the next. "I have not departed from the command of his lips; I have treasured the words of His mouth more than my necessary food. But He is unique and who can turn Him? And what His soul desires, that He does." (Job 23:13&14)

Job lost everything for no apparent reason. If it had just been his children, there would have been no deviation from understanding that the wicked are dealt with justly. If had just been his wealth, praising God would be easy in the pain, at least his sacrifices for himself and his sons. If had just been his health, well he had lived a long life and still, there would have been comfort. But everything, every last thing is taken from him. He loses his family, his wealth, this health and his stature in the community. He had been blessed by God, where is the wisdom of somehow taking away everything from a faithful man? It would seem odd by the Lord to not bless a man who so rightly deserved to be blessed among men. Isn't that what God looks like?

His way of understanding the world, God and himself is gone. There seems to be no justice. He can no longer rely on the fruit of his faithfulness. He can no longer trust the action of sacrifices offered. God has left the box of the understandable and that, that is the most painful of all. "As I was in the prime of my days, when the friendship of God was over my tent; when the Almighty was yet with me, and my children were around me; when my steps were bathed in butter and the rock poured out for me streams of oil!" (Job 29:4-6) "I cry out to You for help, but You do not answer me; I stand up and You turn Your attention against me. You have become cruel to me; with the might of Your hand You persecute me. You life me up to the wind and caused me to ride; and you dissolve me in a storm.... When I expected good, then evil came; when I wanted for the light, then darkness came. I am seething within and cannot relax; days of affliction confront me." (Job 30:20-22, 26&27)

He makes no excuses for himself, or for the Lord. This is the way it is. It's more than Job can bear. No longer can he understand God. God has become cruel in His treatment of Job. There is nothing else to say, nothing else to comprehend. Where can he go from here? He makes no attempt to blaspheme God, to call Him wrong, or bad, but he calls God dangerous. Being a human and completely out of control of his own life breaks him down to a level of nothing but dirt and pain. There is nothing no where left to turn, no solace from his pain. He can't blame others, himself; every defense mechanism was gone. God was God and Job was not. That reality, in the moment of more pain than I can comprehend brought him to a depth of himself, a depth of reality, he had no idea existed. His friends argue with him consistently telling him to humble himself, that there must be something wrong he did. They tell Job God is righteous and deals with men according their actions and even though the wicked prosper, their actions go on the their children. Job scoffs at them and has no time for wasted, trite answers.

Later, after God Himself speaks to Job and his friends out of the storm, in a most surprising turn of events, the Lord speaks to the friends and says "My wrath is kindled against you and against your two friends because you have not spoken of me right as My servant Job has."

God affirms the chaotic, terribleness Job has considered God with. He isn't angered with Job, He's angered with his friends. It wasn't Job's hurt, bitterness, confusion, or even his accusations of God being unjust that brings about a wrath. It's the small mindedness of Job's friends. As Job raises a fist in fury and desperate pain and longing, he is still more righteous than his friends. Job understands that if he is to attribute the blessings of his life to the Lord, than he has to attribute the pain and suffering as well. Logic is logic in Job's mind and either God is completely sovereign, encompassing ALL, or he is controllable based on a few formulaic actions of man, and those very actions have failed Job. He refuses, out of deep place of intimacy with the Lord to fight out, to wrestle, to understand. He won't settle for cheap platitudes and faulty faith. He has known the Lord this far, it's all or nothing.

It's a pure heart that Job approaches God with. Holding nothing back, ignoring no impure motive, raising every question, frustration, desire and complain to God, he beckons the Lord to come and contend with him. He wants to believe, this is his moment of crying out "I believe, help my unbelief!" He won't settle... because he can't. In that, his whole world is turned upside down. His whole belief system is shattered. Then God speaks out of a storm. Not in a whisper as with Moses, but a storm. Violent, loud and infinitely strong, he ravages Job's soul from top to bottom, with no explanation. What He does give, is honor. It's more than just chaos, it's intimacy. It's purpose and hope. It's a chance for Job to be broken, to know the meaning of true intimacy, friendship and love with the Lord. It's a moment for more than just a religion, but a fearful knowledge of the most high God. It's a perfect storm. God takes Himself out of the box, but doesn't stop there, He stakes Himself out of the box, to bring Himself back to Job.

God was honored by Job's hurt, frustration and accusations. It's not a relationship if the other's actions don't have an affect. It's only those we truly love that we have to fight through the terrible circumstances with. It's only those that we bring deep into our hearts that are worth fighting to not just stay on the surface with. Job's friends lived on the surface. Their god was controllable and understandable. Job's wasn't. Job's was frightening and unpredictable and amazing and sovereign and in control rather than being controlled. That was the God Job wanted to know. That was the God Job accused and confronted. That's a friendship. Letting everything slide, never wrestling to understand to cry out in pain when the other hurts you, never risking the answer, by never asking the questions of the other, that is not intimacy, that's false love. It's through love that God responds to Job. If there was no love, there would be no need for Him to speak back to Job. It's out of relationship that the Lord loves Job enough to answer his desperate pleas.

I can no longer keep God in the same box Job's friends tried. He is His the Lord and He is One. There is nothing I can do to understand Him, but I can beg and plead to. I can ask Him, out of the desperation of a heart wanting to have a stronger, bigger and more powerful faith to make Himself known. I can fight and wrestle the hurts, pains and struggles to the ground, watching my defenses fall with them. If I can no longer judge myself based on what blessings I may or may not receive, than there is no one that is more or less good or bad than I. No one is more or less blessed and by that loved than I. There is no black and white, no points rewards system with the Lord. My defenses fall as I break under the weight of my own religion. As I split open and everything tumbles out, my impure thoughts mix with my faithfulness creating a mess I can't decipher. I'm selfish, yet desiring of God. I am prideful, yet humbled to the core. I am ashamed, yet set free. As I see this more and more, I realize with a force, I cannot create a system of understanding. I was saved in my ugliest moments and if that's true, than the greatest blessing I can know came at a time I didn't even want it. This unpredictable God has a heart for me and even though He is terrifying, He is desiring relationship, intimacy and good for me. His heart is not for fear, but for love. If that's true, than openly stating my case to Him, begging for mercy and understanding is neither right nor wrong, but just part of my relationship with Him. It's part of His treasuring me. He desires the fight, then the surrender, the same as I do. My mixed motives of selfishly wanting the things that make me happy while still wanting to serve an ineffable God collide and He laughs. "Just keep talking with Me. Just keep opening up. Hide nothing. I'm not going anywhere." Again my defenses fall as I realize His heart is good and incomprehensible again. I see everyone around me in the same boat, frustratingly trying to search for the same understanding. Afraid of the same torrent, having nothing to fall back on, hoping they will escape harm if they stay on the surface. My heart opens even more to every person that has hurt, or loved me. It's a hard journey we all face and as I try again and again to walk in the person He made me, I fall in love more and more with Him and His creation. I know myself better, Him better and pray I stay soft, vulnerable and humble enough to never stop seeking Him and loving Him better through others everyday. If I'm lucky enough to know this relationship, this loving back and forth with the Creator of the world, than no matter what I do or do not receive, I am already blessed. I may not have heard Him from a storm, but I heard Him through His word, His loving presence and the faithful, beautiful voices of His body. I only hope to pass on the same blessings.

No regrets?

Faith is not faith when it isn't necessary. Hope is not hope when we have what we want.

I used to hear someone I knew say there was no point to regretting anything. Decisions are decisions, we can't change the past, so just move on. Attractive option. It's seductive in it's deceptive truth. How easy, how right it seems to move quickly to leave the past in the past and not turn around. Keep a straight and narrow path, sweep the pain, the hurt, the sin the lessons under the rug and move forward. Don't look down, don't look the right or the left, just keep moving forward. Let the tide of life pull you along until you can no longer see the shoreline, swept out to the next opportunity, the next moment that brings me nothing but pleasure and peace. Everything in between in just holding my breath until the right moment to exhale. Life's too short right?

I would love to be able to live life that way and envy those that do. How sweet it must be to never have to look back, take stock and take responsibility for the next decision, for the next moment, for the path they choose. The path would be so much easier. I would never have to feel the pain of loss, the regret of mistakes the haunting's of watching my actions have reactions and consequences. I would never have to feel rejection, knowing there was no point to anything besides finding the next happy moment. Eat and drink and be merry, for tomorrow we die, right? A life lived on the surface, moving down the lazy river of today. Accountability is moot point, life easily moving in and out of rhythm, nothing really ever mattering enough to sacrifice for, to change for, to believe in. But then again, nothing really to lose, nothing really to fail at.

I wish I had that luxury. Somewhere in the cosmic tying together of the knots in my brain, God forgot to give me the "easy come, easy go" gene.

Every morning I wake up, stare across the wall at the verses I have painted there; Romans 8:38&39, For I am convinced that neither death nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things present nor things to come nor powers nor height nor depth nor any other created thing shall be able to separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord. Isaiah 49:14-16, But Zion said, "The Lord has forsaken me, and the Lord has forgotten me." "Can a woman forget her nursing child, and have no compassion the son of her womb? Even these may forget, but I will not forget you. Behold, I have inscribed you on the palms of my hands; your walls are ever before me." Hosea 6:1-3, Come, let us return to the Lord. For He has forn us, but He will bandage us. He will revive us after two days; He will raise us up on the third day that we may live before Him. So let us know, let us press on to know the Lord. His going forth is as certain as the dawn; And He will come to us like rain; like the spring rain watering the earth. \ Psalms 91:14-16, "Because he loves me," says the Lord, "I will rescue him; I will protect him, for he acknowledges my name. He will call upon me and I will answer him; I will be with him in trouble. I will deliver him and honor him. With long life will I satisfy him and show him my salvation." There is also a quote from Brennen Manning: "The dogged fidelity of Jesus in the face of our indifference to his affection and our own rampant ingratitude for his faithfulness - he is always faithful for he cannot disown his own self - is a mystery of such mind-bending magnitude that the intellect buckles and theology bows in its presence. Humbly acknowledging our limitations, we are driven to the fervent prayer, 'Lord I do believe! Help my lack of trust!'"

These verses, this sort of love, this sort of faithfulness, sacrifice and affection begs a reaction. It calls me to a place where I can't be satisfied letting life happen. I am called to account because of a love I did not ask for, yet found it's way to me. The very breath I am given asks me what am I going to do with this knowledge, this awareness I have. I wish I had the option of blindly turning an eye and walking away, letting indifference reign supreme, turning off the floodgates of emotions that bring me the same joy as they do the deep pain. I wish I could ease off the handle, walking away from that which I can't change, that which I regret, or even that which I miss, the opportunities missed, the love lost, the mistakes made.

But if I were able, if I could choose to do that so easily, how would I ever change? How would I ever grow, learn and develop into a person of character? If my heart can't break over my actions, over the actions of others, if I can't feel the pain I have caused, or the pain caused me, why would I ever need a Savior, a Redeemer, or even to just stop doing stupid things? Where would intimacy be? Where would hope, faith or love be?

I don't love for my sake, I don't have faith for my sake and I don't hope foolishly. I do these things because they are true. I choose them everyday because they are what life means. If I give them up, if I for a moment believe that the world is based soley on me and making myself happy, than there is no purpose. There is no reason to be anything besides selfish every moment, except when it suits me to be any sort of good and then it becomes another game of manipulation with every person I meet. How good to have to be to maintain your love, your acceptance, your good faith? How long will you believe the game I play?

That's why rejection hurts so much, isn't? It's someone I love telling me they don't believe me anymore. They don't want what I'm selling, and who could blame them? Most of the time we are choosing to love for the purely selfish reason of getting in return. And when that stops working, well then, why not just walk away? If what I am in the middle of, be it a friendship, a love relationship, a job, a community, stops offering me what I came looking for, than walking away is a good answer. No regrets, no need to have any.

This great love story though, this great cosmic truth stops that logic cold. No longer do I get to live for myself. No longer does it get to be about the injustices handed my way. I have to make choices, I am accountable now... I'm aware. A whole new level is reached. Down past the superficial, I have to make a choice, who am I going to serve?

If I make the choice to serve Him, admitting to every wound, every hurt I have, acknowledging the sin of my own hands, the evil I can bring, becomes paramount. The heart is now engaged and I no longer have the escape hatch of walking away... because of His faithfulness, I will never know rest until I have fought my demons. Nothing stays buried long and everything that is hidden will be brought to light. I have to stop, turn around, see the consequences of mine and others actions and fall to my knees begging for a forgiveness that covers a multitude of sins. Now, now I have to have faith. Not because faith has come easy, but because it's the only other option to insanity.

Everyday the sun will rise, the moon will fall and the earth will spin again. Life will happen, babies will be born, someone will die, somewhere. It's inevitable. And I could sit here, living in my parents home, letting life happen to me, watching and waiting for the next good thing to come along and ride the wave until another comes along. How is that honoring Him though? I can't honor the love the Lord has shown me, without engaging my heart. I can't love Him in return if I shut myself down to everything besides happiness, peace and comfort. I can't grow if I run from the regrets of my actions, the regrets of others actions. I can't love Him, trust Him, know Him if I am not honest with Him, with myself and with others, acknowledging at once the pain of my mistakes the pain of the mistakes of others in my life. I can't forgive without being forgiven and I can't forgive without opening myself up to the forgiveness that is needed when someone has hurt me. Starting there though, usually means feeling and that is hard. It's feeling the loneliness of rejection when my actions deserved it. It means feeling the pain of the rejection, deciding to forgive myself and others, desiring to change, to grow, to learn to try again. I can't run from every relationship and sabotage them when they get hard because I'm afraid, I can't run from making mistakes, from the inevitable pain that will come when I fail, or someone fails me. No one leaves this life unscathed or unmarred. No one leaves this life without scathing or marring someone else. A wounded heart is able to see it, understand it, break for it and be cleansed of it.

Artificial happiness is no happiness at all, it's numbness with a smile. It's apathy with a Bible in hand. It will only lead to less and less of a heart, slowly eaten away by pain unacknowledged in a wake of destruction, leaving others wounded behind. That's not the call, that's not the hope. That's the easy deception of a smart enemy.

Thomas Wilder said "In Love's service, only wounded soldiers can serve." On the battle-field, in the kingdom, or in our relationships, if I don't admit to what is happening in my heart, it can never be open to others and if I don't open it to the Lord and others, I am unsalty salt, or a lamp under the bed. I have lost my reason, my purpose and my place in His body. I have lost myself and He has lost me.

Faith is believing He is there, hope is knowing what I'm going through now has a purpose. Faith says I believe you, hope says I trust you. Once I do that with Him, once I reach an open intimacy with Him, I can now be cleansed, sealed and healed enough to share that same intimacy with others. The beauty is, in that moment because I have received the love I need so much, when I share with others, when I am open with them, it is no longer about getting my jollies off at them thinking I am something special, it can now be about truly loving them, even when they spit on me. It's no longer about my mask, that's gone, now it's about His face, not any of mine. Now I get to be counted as one of the soldiers on the battlefield, living out the orders of the commander, trusting He sees a larger battle plan. I can be openly sacrificed knowing I have a healer, knowing my wounds have a purpose beyond just my suffering. I can sacrifice the idol of my own need and lose myself into a will larger than mine. I can let myself die knowing with every last breath, I breath Someone else. Every time my heart breaks, it is another moment to turn, see His face, know His love, be taken back in, then sent back out knowing how to love another better.

It all starts in me though, with my wounds, with my heart, with my hurts, my sins, my regrets. I don't get the luxury of blinders to my own backyard. I only get the blinders when I am following orders. Faith and hope are for what we can't see, but wisdom is for what we can see. I am responsible for what I can control, me. The rest is faith and hope dedicated in trust to the sacrifice that at once woke me from my sleep and now calls me to account.

Rejection

The hardest part of rejecting is being rejected. Webster's dictionary defines rejected as "the act of refusing to accept."

When someone rejects me, the first feeling is not of understanding, peace or compassion. It's fear. There is a message in rejection that is hard to miss. At some point that person decided to not accept me. There are many reasons why I decide to reject things or I decide to not allow things. But when someone is standing in front of you loving me one moment, then walking away without a look back another, whether it is a friend, a lover or a stranger, the message is clear: I do not accept you anymore.

A knife to the gut, the immediate following question is, why? The desire to understand to comprehend the rejection to make it about anything other than a simple decision to not love, to not be near, to not share in the future with me is a neon sign of insurmountable proportion. No voice is louder than the voice of silence. It is a dismissal, an indifference that communicates a lack of space in the heart of the other. Gone is the soft tenderness and desire to love. Was it me, was it you, was it someone else? No answer matters though. No justification, no reasoning, no defense takes away the pain, the message, the clear indication of lack of love. No hope is left when there is nothing to work with.

Inevitably the other messages come in. Straight from rejection to worth the path of the heart goes.

I have long been a victim to the opinions of men. Whether friend or foe, whether lover or enemy, whether family or coworker, the most important thing I could always do was be loved. I may not think I am okay, but that doesn't matter as long as you think I am. My heart regarding myself became entangled, than dependent on the feelings of others. If you hated me, I hated you, if you loved me, I loved me, and needed you. Manic in the need for someone to tell me I'm worth sticking around for, I cared more about filling my need than knowing the freedom of my Father.

In this scenario, accepting failure, mistakes and the inevitable heartbreak other's sustain on my behalf is more terrifying than base jumping without a parachute. There is a quote from Pride and Prejudice that epitomizes this fear. The hero, Mr. Darcy is looking at Elizabeth Bennett, the heroine and states "My good opinion once lost, is lost forever." There is no where to hide in that. If this is the encounter I have with others, I am lost.

I can make no amends for the mistakes I make, I can make no reparations for the time lost, the hurts caused, and when I can no longer control what someone thinks of me and still, I watch them reject me, there is a free fall of heart that sinks to no where. I deserve no real love, can require no real love, but the desire for it will never go away. Especially when the person walking away is someone I admire, the message only gets deeper, harder, more pronounced. I must not be worth the goodness I thought I had hoped for, I had once possessed.

John 12: 42-46 states, "Nevertheless many even of the rulers believed in Him, but because of the Pharisees they were not confessing Him, for fear that they would be put out of the synagogue; for they loved the approval of men rather than the approval of God. And Jesus cried out and said, 'He who believes in Me, does not believe in Me but in Him who sent Me. ^"He who sees Me sees the One who sent Me. I have come as Light into the world, so that everyone who believes in Me will not remain in darkness.'"

Jesus was the chosen one of God, I am a chosen one of Jesus, thus I am a chosen one of God, as we all are. To reject myself, to let men take the place of determining my worth is to put out the light He came to bring. It's to call Jesus a liar and a lunatic. There is a voice that is bigger, that is more important, a voice that puts all else to shame. A living sacrifice that came down and spoke worth when I was beating my wife, killing my best friend, stealing from the poor and spitting on my mother. There was one that still came to save me and no matter what any other message sends, that message has to be more powerful. It has to be the only one that matters. If it doesn't, every time someone betrays me, hurts me, every time I hurt another, I betray another, I will have to hang myself in a field with my 30 pieces of silver lying below me.

Grace is imperative to my life. I cannot pay for the mistakes I have made, towards Him, or another. No one can also repay me for the mistakes they have made. Neither have to be made though, they already were. A payment was made, a sacrifice offered. If that voice does not become louder, more true, more relevant than any other, the roller-coaster of the rest of my life is going to be hell on earth.

I may be dismissed easily on this earth for my sins, but in a different kingdom, in a different realm, one more powerful, more permanent than this one, my failings are part of a greater story, a weaving of a tapestry I can't see in fullness. I know my need for grace and my recognition, my request of it, my desperation to hear a bigger, deeper voice than those that surround me, that is the aroma of beauty, it's my sacrifice of me in response to a sacrifice for me.

I have to choose to live a life based sole on the heart of Another. If I don't, if I keep turning my heart back over to others who are as fallible as I, I will never survive, at least my heart won't. I can't live for the approval of men, if I do, I will end up rejecting the only thing that matter, the only One that matters. My heart will eventually die and I will end up lost in a world of hate and disappointment.

There is a line in a Lifehouse song I have loved forever:

"You didn't know I had planned to go this far, traded your worth for these scars, for your only company. Don't believe the lies that you they have told to you, not one word was true, you're all right, you're all right, you're all right..."

Messages will be sent for a lifetime. I will send some and others will send some my way. This world seeks to destroy, to maim, to lie. My worth is not built into whether or not someone else determines it. It was already determined 2000 years ago by the life and love of the One that still lives and breathes my name everyday. See, I'm His favorite. I'm His beloved, His heartbeat, His joy. When I kick dirt in the face of my friend, He never stops loving me. He just cleans off the other, picks them up, heals them with a touch while I watch. Then He turns to me, tells me how much He loves me. I bend, then break, begging for a forgiveness from everyone within earshot and I stop kicking dirt. But even if I don't, He still loves me.

No matter how loved or unloved I am here, now, nothing takes that away from me. No one can tell the One that died for me I am irredeemable, unlovable, or unaccepted. You can't reject me when I have already been chosen... at least by who it matters the most to be chosen by.