Just to state...

I'm almost afraid to keep the entry below. But for how little exposure this blog receives, maybe I will let it remain for a while.

I wish it could end on a happy, hopeful note. But in that sense, perhaps it is like Psalm 88.

But in reality, it is hopeful. Because if that darkness wasn't exposed, it would have remained to destroy so much more.

It's so hard to write of this, because it is so hard to describe. But I know I am not the only one to walk this road. It's painful to expose this, because it seems that there is so much at stake. What boldness should I take to this? What meekness? Will I continue to write in riddles and veiled poetry?

I have more to say, but I will let it remain as this for now.

Luke 11:35

Should I write this poetically or straight-out ---- right to the point?

Tearing through this jungle, the tangled mess of everything I thought maybe could be and maybe was, but really wasn't.

What really wasn't at all.

It all seemed alive for Him. It all seemed so passionate. It all seemed so full of life and vibrancy.

I looked beneath the surface of what appeared to be beautiful flowers and an array of light.

But at the roots of it was something more fierce and destructive than I could have ever imagined.

And yet so tangled and so thorny was the briar patch below those blossoms and blooms. I never knew...though it wounded me time after time as I ran after that which I thought was real. Never once catching up to it. Always falling behind and falling short.

How foolish I felt. How angry and bitter at what I allowed to drive me for so long.

Chasing after emotional high after emotional high...what was labeled as a phrase I now despise.

And yet I shouldn't.

But I have been ruined. I have been gutted from the inside out of the faith that I once thought was mine.

And what I thought was light, was really darkness.

secret of the easy yoke

"Let it be remembered that you cannot trust religious experiences. The first awareness of the Lord, the ecstasy of worship, the physical act of water baptism, the second, third, and hundredth blessing, are all what has happened IN you. Get your confidence on what has happened FOR you. The luster of your experience fades and shines according to your health, your circumstances, your frame of mind. But what the Saviour did for you when He died on the cross, what He is doing now for you living on the throne, and all that is yours in Him never changes because it depends on Him, not on you" 

-(Listening, a Christian magazine, Master's House, Box 5055, London, Ontario).

I just want to be honest here...

I really like this statement, and I really like this song.

I wish I could write something profound right now, but I'd rather just be honest.

I feel like sometimes honesty is the root of the most profound thoughts recorded. There's a rawness there. An authenticity. 

I feel like I was trying to be too profound in that last statement.

I don't know where to begin, or where to end, for that matter.

I keep typing things, and then deleting them.

I'll try to just write for now...after all...this is my outlet as it is...and I'm not going to try and mold it a certain way. It's just going to be what it is.

I feel more cynical and jaded than I have ever before in life. Except, in high school, I think I felt that way a lot. So maybe not. 

Where is Jesus Christ in all of this...?

Where is my Savior?

I write in fear that I will say or write or speak something at the very worst: heretical, at the very mildest: unscriptural, or at the very least: unfavorable in the eyes of select individuals.

But I'm done. I'm done trying to prove myself. 

I just wondered if heretical and unscriptural might mean the same thing, so I had to look it up. I guess I will uphold, (based on my brief research) that heresy is based upon entire doctrine, and the mote of being unscriptural may be a misuse of context of a verse or text.

I am desperately in need of a Savior...

In the midst of all of this...that is the only sure thing I know.

And I'm blessed to be reminded that in the midst of all this...all this confusion, messiness, pain, separation, heartache, disillusionment, disenchantment, hurt, shame, fear, and sadness...

He is there. He reigns. He is victorious. 

That is all I know. 

And He does...He bids me:

"Peace, be still."

____
7.8.2012 I think I just want to edit this a bit. Add a little bit to it.
It's true, I am afraid of stating something unscriptural or off-base biblically. I'm glad I got that out because it helps me to examine how very much I am concerned with how other people see me. It helps me see that my heart is in the wrong place in that respect. 


What I mean by this is that I should want to uphold the Word of God because it is the Word of God, not because I worry that others will see me a certain way...


My soul thirsts for the Truth of His Word. That's what I mean by this whole post. That's what writing all of this helps me to identify at the core of all of the confusion I feel right now. Confusion and hurt.


I think when I am ready and when I unravel it all a little more...when I get even more distance from it...I will write about it. When I am ready.

Looking for a Home...

I long for realness.

I crave authenticity.

I feel it in my bones.

This world is harsh.

An aching heart has been my company.

I can not fabricate joy. I can not muster peace. I can not fake hope.

It has to flow from that place. It has to flow from that honest place of devastating sorrow.

It flows from the Cross. It flows from those wounds.

It's gut-wrenching, positively gut-wrenching to ponder this.

That, upon that Cross. That is my sin. That is my depravity.

That is my Savior.

The Man of Sorrows.

The most authentic man who ever lived.

The One for Whom my heart desperately longs.

For in Him, is Home.

The Flowers of the Valley Are So Sweet

Perhaps this will become a journal. A chronicle of grief. A chronicle of grief, and much more than that:

the LIFE that springs forth from ashes. the beauty amid the thorns. the redemptive power of the CROSS. the wounds that bled and bring forth life.

For amid this tumultuous time of the heart, in which the winds and waved have raged and billowed...

I have come to know my Savior and King in a way I have scarcely dreamed of and always longed for...

As in the deepest longing of my heart, and all that I was created for.

He is there.

He's there when I don't remember anything about a week ago. He's there when the gut-wrenching memories wash over me. When that sorrow is triggered. When tears just flow. When tears just won't flow. When I am angry, when I am weary. When I am bone-tired. He is there. He is there. He is there.

I don't know what I am writing about right now.

How do I properly articulate what seems could never be articulated?

How do I even title this entry?

That's how my mind is as I attempt to process everything. All over the place.

I feel like the word 'grief' is a strange, and familiar word. As if I forget that I am bereft. It's just been so long.   It's seems as if that's the way I just am.

That's what it seems. But yet, I am constantly reminded that my grief and my feelings so deep and torrential do not have the last word. They don't define me. They have no claim over me.

They just affect me a lot, a lot, a lot, a lot.

But His Grace extends downward, into the depths, and I have fellowship with Him in the midst of the darkest valley. He walks beside me, my hand in His.

There really is no thing sweeter than to walk beside the Lord.

This is what I was made for.

...There is a Sweetness that I have come to know of the Love of our God, that I would never have known unless I had walked through the deepest heartache I've ever known, and discovered there His Love. There is Treasure hidden in the depths, and the most beautiful flowers in the Valley. And yet, I would not know this unless I had walked through the pain. And He has walked beside me all the way.

A New Canvas

It has been a long while since I have written for the sheer sake of writing.

I mean, without a clue as to what I am writing about.

Often, prior to a post, I will find myself very stirred by a Word or a song, and it will pour out from that.

I'm not sure what will come of this blog. I'm comforted a bit by the fact that right now, no one really knows about it. There's a comfort in knowing that, I guess.

I find myself more free in that sense, to express what I would like to express, and to allow the context of this blog to be what it needs to be.

My previous blog, I will likely continue, but I just need a new template. I need a new canvas. I need that freedom that comes with it.

A bruised reed he will not break,
    and a faintly burning wick he will not quench;
     he will faithfully bring forth justice.

-Isaiah 42:3

•