I am aching today.
There is brevity in this. It is but a terse phrase. And yet, how much emotion it carries. If I can be candid with you, there is a hollowed out space at the base of my stomach and an emptiness that seems to hang off my spine.
I write in these places of without, in an empty room I decorate with phraseologies and vernacular. A futile and oftentimes infantile attempt to sort through the jumble of breath and processes that seem to well up inside.
I am having trouble reading. Something I didn't know would bother me as much as it does. I stare at these sentences and rather then becoming engulfed in swells of imagery, my brain begins to travel down its own paths. The pages are hard to turn. The stories hard to understand. What am I without words? A question I ask, though I know the answer. I am simply me, struggling. A brutal, cold struggle.
My God is a big God- something I have come to know in these seasons of big pain and big feeling. When the ocean swells grow, it is here, staring up at their mass that I see the God of perfect orchestrations. It is in the place of suffocation and utter brokenness that I am met with the clearest picture of who I believe in. The angels bow down low before his Greatness- who am I to call this season of life "too big?" If God sits on the throne (which he does! he does!), I can rest in my today, without worrying about future frustrations or cares or worries or weights: He is the orchestrater of every today.
And within this without, there truly is a sureness of spirit. Reader, future self, whoever you are, I have not known the Lord's calling on my life as I have in these past few weeks. A confirmation of each step I'm taking, a confirmation that this season of emptiness is set out before me and God ordained. Shouldn't it be manageable then? Shouldn't I be skating right on through?
He gives all we need. He sustains. He brings us through the fire. He stands with us IN it throughout the process.
These are jumbled. These are my soul conversations. Here is my candid-heart-state. Here, transparency says, I am struggling and God is good, and this is the duality of life itself.
Today there are things like the smell of cigarettes on clothing, the foam at the top of espresso, sunshine pushing through blue-sky and wisps of clouds. There is goodness. He is sustaining me. Each day is another letter in this story, and so, I push my pen into this feeling, and often plead with the Sky-Breather.
Soul Conversations I'm Having Go A Little Something Like This:
Oh, Lord,
(Words accompanied with burrowing face into pillow, heart-sinking somewhere deep within me)
Oh, Lord, let Your Joy be my song.
And bring me forth as gold. Bring me forth as gold.
And I will rest. He will fight for me.
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