What am I doing at 1 am? I am recovering. I am saddened and burdened by the weight of my sins. I did not notice the slippery slope of sin until I was at the bottom – surprised I had fallen so far.
1:10 am: I am searching for a way out. For a lifeline. For God to say He still loves me and I am forgiven and one day I will come to myself. This is not who I am. This body, these feelings, this utter lack of control. This is not what is truest about me.
1:20 am: I am uncomfortably reminded of God’s grace. “Uncomfortably” because I have not earned it. I am undeserving. A worm. The lowest of the low. That He chooses to forgive – more so – to love. It is inconceivable. And yet it is so. I twitch in my seat. How can I accept this gift?
1:30 am: I am saddened. I know my response to His great gift of love and mercy will be to ignore it. Not today – but some other day in the distant future. I will be careless with His bleeding heart. I will look at His precious gift and say “hmm. I will choose to do what I want to.” And oh how I will hurt Him.
Some days I lack the hope. But His mercies are new. Nothing can separate me from His love. Not my hopelessness, not my sin, not demons nor angels, not His hurt, not my callousness, not my own will. I cannot escape Him. And how glad I am for that. That He is relentless for me. Where no one will chase me He will follow. He will pursue. My God is not a watcher. He is not an observer while I drift farther and farther away from Him. He will hem me in, behind and before, side to side. He is power and love all at once. He is the good shepherd. He will seek out the 1 unworthy lost sheep. I hold these truths to my heart. This is real. This is true.
A brief introduction to this blog post…I wrote this a year ago when I was starting to see the cracks in my relationship with my ex. It’s bittersweet to read now – knowing what I know – that my wishes and dreams and hopes have turned to ash and dust. But in spite of that, I am so very proud of how brave I was. Brave enough to love and to risk my heart. My good friend Isa Garcia said it best (in her book Found: Letters on Life, Love, and God)…”only the vulnerable heart can love rightly”.
One of the best compliments you’ve given me is to tell me you see an inner core of strength in me. I wish you could always see that. Sometimes it hurts when I hear you voice your concerns. Concerns about me being fearful, loving routine, not taking risks. I wonder if you see my desire for stability and security and safety as a noose around your neck. The truth is you probably don’t feel that way. But sometimes, just sometimes, I wonder if you do. The fact that it concerns you must mean something. Maybe it isn’t a big deal at all but it must mean something. Otherwise it would not be a concern.
I wish you could see me being brave every time I open up to you. Every time I let you in. Every time I open up a wound or a scar and expose myself so you can have a bit more of my heart. These are all moments of bravery. Because I do not know the ending to this story. I do not know if it will be worth the sacrifice and the risk I am taking with my heart. I do not know if I will give you pieces of me only to have to watch you walk away with them. Yes, I am fearful. I am human, and risking your heart is one of the scariest things you can do. But I wish you could see the bravery in every fear I face with you. I wish you could see how valuable that is – to find someone who will face their fears with you, instead of someone who has no fears at all.
Maybe you do see that.