Hello Friends,
It's been a strange journey for me these past several months and I haven't posted on my blog for a while.
I've been going through my own "Soul Surgery" journey and, as usual, didn't feel as if I could write about it until I was on my way out the other end of the tunnel and could look back and gain some wisdom about what I was going through. Otherwise, this blog would have just been about pain, pain, and more pain! Ugh!
I'm still in the tunnel, but I can see the light shining through from the other end and have decided to stop at this moment and turn around to see what, if anything, is illuminated behind me.
What do I see?
Everything is still pretty dark. But, just barely, I am able to see the outlines of some of the all-too-familiar furniture of my life that I kept bumping into and tripping over as I stumbled through the darkness.
I now look back, eyes dilated to catch every ray of light, on my hands and knees. I haven't stood up in a long time. Once you get banged around enough, you learn to get as low as you can and just feel your way through. Moving forward in the dark is not without some degree of injury, and the flesh of my heart bears witness with the cuts and bruises and wobbly knees to prove it.
I'm weak. Heart sick. Hurt. But I'm moving. I'm moving forward. Slowly. Every day I am on my face before God. Still unable to look up, but ever mindful of His Presence and watchful eye. The vitriol I have spouted at Him over these past few months has been a vile concoction of anger, hurt, sorrow, and accusation. I have stood with the Accuser and pointed my finger in hurt and sadness and anger and poured it all out into a bowl meant for my prayers.
What manner of incense has risen to his nostrils from my life these past 9 months? I can't be glib about this. Many would say, "Oh, He's a big God, he can take it." But that's not the point. I know His heart has been sad over me because I have done my best to walk away from Him in anger because of my great disappointment and unanswered prayer.
The point isn't whether or not I've offended Him. The point is, that
I WANTED TO.
And there are still parts of my heart that are so broken that I still do.
Right now, in the tunnel, I am beginning to see the shape of things behind me after many months of blindness. It is not a bad thing to look back to see with eyes wide open what you could not see because of the darkness. Blind to things right in front of you, you smack right into them and get pretty banged up. What revelation even a little light brings. Searching in the dark for something that can only be discerned in the Light is a delicate and painful affair.
So, I am on my face. I am at the feet of Jesus. I am mute but He hears my heart. He attends to me. He has not moved. But I have. I just don't know where I am any more, but I have a feeling that once on the other side and my blindness is past I will find myself in a totally new place.
Until then, I'm getting the feeling that while my eyes are still dilated and I can still see shapes in the darkness, perhaps this is a good time to look back and try to figure out what needs to be done with that furniture so the next time (and knowing me, there will be a next time) I won't get so banged up trying to get through the darkness to the other side. I need to figure out what that furniture is, and what its proper place is in the home of my heart...if there is one. Maybe an Estate sale is in order....or a bonfire.
And, finally, a personal note to my friend, Kathy Helmers. This blog is in answer to your request that I blog my Journey...you said you would want to read it. Here it is. Believe me, this is a "sight" better than what would have been written at the time you first encouraged me to write about my journey. It's impossible to write with any wisdom in the dark. You are a tremendous friend. Thanks for your encouragement.
It's been a strange journey for me these past several months and I haven't posted on my blog for a while.
I've been going through my own "Soul Surgery" journey and, as usual, didn't feel as if I could write about it until I was on my way out the other end of the tunnel and could look back and gain some wisdom about what I was going through. Otherwise, this blog would have just been about pain, pain, and more pain! Ugh!
I'm still in the tunnel, but I can see the light shining through from the other end and have decided to stop at this moment and turn around to see what, if anything, is illuminated behind me.
What do I see?
Everything is still pretty dark. But, just barely, I am able to see the outlines of some of the all-too-familiar furniture of my life that I kept bumping into and tripping over as I stumbled through the darkness.
I now look back, eyes dilated to catch every ray of light, on my hands and knees. I haven't stood up in a long time. Once you get banged around enough, you learn to get as low as you can and just feel your way through. Moving forward in the dark is not without some degree of injury, and the flesh of my heart bears witness with the cuts and bruises and wobbly knees to prove it.
I'm weak. Heart sick. Hurt. But I'm moving. I'm moving forward. Slowly. Every day I am on my face before God. Still unable to look up, but ever mindful of His Presence and watchful eye. The vitriol I have spouted at Him over these past few months has been a vile concoction of anger, hurt, sorrow, and accusation. I have stood with the Accuser and pointed my finger in hurt and sadness and anger and poured it all out into a bowl meant for my prayers.
What manner of incense has risen to his nostrils from my life these past 9 months? I can't be glib about this. Many would say, "Oh, He's a big God, he can take it." But that's not the point. I know His heart has been sad over me because I have done my best to walk away from Him in anger because of my great disappointment and unanswered prayer.
The point isn't whether or not I've offended Him. The point is, that
I WANTED TO.
And there are still parts of my heart that are so broken that I still do.
Right now, in the tunnel, I am beginning to see the shape of things behind me after many months of blindness. It is not a bad thing to look back to see with eyes wide open what you could not see because of the darkness. Blind to things right in front of you, you smack right into them and get pretty banged up. What revelation even a little light brings. Searching in the dark for something that can only be discerned in the Light is a delicate and painful affair.
So, I am on my face. I am at the feet of Jesus. I am mute but He hears my heart. He attends to me. He has not moved. But I have. I just don't know where I am any more, but I have a feeling that once on the other side and my blindness is past I will find myself in a totally new place.
Until then, I'm getting the feeling that while my eyes are still dilated and I can still see shapes in the darkness, perhaps this is a good time to look back and try to figure out what needs to be done with that furniture so the next time (and knowing me, there will be a next time) I won't get so banged up trying to get through the darkness to the other side. I need to figure out what that furniture is, and what its proper place is in the home of my heart...if there is one. Maybe an Estate sale is in order....or a bonfire.
And, finally, a personal note to my friend, Kathy Helmers. This blog is in answer to your request that I blog my Journey...you said you would want to read it. Here it is. Believe me, this is a "sight" better than what would have been written at the time you first encouraged me to write about my journey. It's impossible to write with any wisdom in the dark. You are a tremendous friend. Thanks for your encouragement.
Proud of you for process, friend. In the darkness theme, here's a poem that has helped me...
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“Writing in the Dark” by Denise Levertov
It’s not difficult.
Anyway, it’s necessary.
Wait until morning, and you’ll forget.
And who knows if morning will come.
Fumble for the light,
and you’ll be
stark awake, but the vision
will be fading, slipping
out of reach.
You must have paper at hand,
a felt-tip pen, ballpoints don’t always flow,
pencil points tend to break. There’s nothing
shameful in that much prudence: those are our tools.
Never mind about crossing your t’s, dotting your i’s–
but take care not to cover
one word with the next. Practice will reveal
how one hand instinctively comes to the aid of the other
to keep each line
clear of the next.
Keep writing in the dark:
a record of the night, or
words that pulled you from the depths of unknowing,
words that flew through your mind, strange birds
crying their urgency with human voices,
or opened
as flowers of a tree that blooms
only once in a lifetime:
words that may have the power
to make the sun rise again.
Tara, this speaks to my soul. thank you, friend.
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