God, I hope this helps.
Here's my prayer, God...
I feel like I'm kind of being dangled on this hook right, just being brushed off and not taken seriously over and over.
All of this after everything... it hurts. I've shown anger and frustration, but simply it just hurts. I have loved her in dark dark times... dismal times. I spoke truth to her about her value and about what she means to You, God. I loved her, and I do love her... I've shown her a great capacity to love genuinely. I have shouldered an extraordinary burden for months... watching her suffer day after day and night after night, waiting anxiously to relieve herself, so I could tell her how much she was loved by both You and I. I would sit and talk to her for hours to lift her up and let her know that she was not meant to live life in such a way... God, I told her of all the wonderful things You have for her day after day after day... never putting her down and only doing my very best to lift her up to You in speech and in prayer. She insisted that I was amazing and I humbly refused her compliments over and over, noting that the only thing amazing was You. I told her that I was not perfect and I told her that I had some work to do myself. Did she just ignore that?
I am sitting here with another heavy something on my shoulders tonight... something that has been growing for the past week or so. It's looking like she wants out.
Has she forgotten all of those weeks and months that I loved her in her loneliest and darkest times? Does she not think that I am capable of change? She says I am not the man she fell in love with, but I am. I am the same imperfect man that I was months ago. I am that same man that would tell her of her worth until she fell asleep every wretched night of an awful job. I showed her love and I endured the pain... accepted the baggage that came along with it... knowing all along what I was getting myself into. I saw past the brokenness and I loved her, I do love her, with all of my formerly cold and callous heart. She turned me warm... got the blood pumping again because God knows I couldn't do so with a stone inside my chest.
Those were some of the heaviest days I have lived, but to see her smiling face and to watch her come to realize that she IS loved... tremendously... it was all so so worth it. I'd do it again if I had to.
She is beyond precious to me and on January 16th, I had the world for the first time...
I've been good and good, but then I went down for a bit. I lost focus and I lost some confidence. I pushed a little too hard and I started pointing the finger in an immature way... analyzing and blah blah blah... like I had no issues. Look at this huge plank in my eye, yeah, it's You Who showed me in the first place and here I am again.
I've been acting like a jackass... insecure little boy and I am beyond embarassed.
You've given me this revelation, and it's finally clicked... I have to just be a man and stick to my choices... back my decisions and be sure of them.
I get it, and that's what I'm going to do... I get it. I've learned.
So does she not think I can change? Am I so wretched and filthy a man in her eyes that she thinks God is not capable of changing me? Has she forgotten all the love love love I shared with her in those ridiculously dark and ugly times? Is it something else that she will not say? What is it? Does she just need time to think and consider if we'll be together in the end? What's the deal? This anxiety presses down on me and it is beyond taxing. It is so difficult to sleep these nights and she seems to sleep soundly. She seems to socialize with nothing pressing on her conscience... How would I know though. I can't keep her on the phone for more than 10 to 15 minutes before she says something like she has to go... or she'll call me right back... which she never actually does.
I do not want to think of losing her. When I held her, I held her like I would see her again. I did not hold her like it was the last time I ever would. I held her with the promise and the belief that we would spend many more hours together... many more days and weeks and moths and years... I love her, and I've never been so blessed so as to hold something so absolutely precious. To see these beautiful little lady go from a bleak and awful reality to stepping back into the promises of God... stepping back into the plan that He's got for her. I thought I might be a part of that plan, but it's not looking so good.
I mean... I'm not one to fold to circumstance and I have yet to do so because I know Who You Are, God. This might be the most costly lesson I will ever learn... to lose something so precious for something so trivial... but like I said, maybe it's something more... I don't know... ;'[
I'm just left here dangling on a hook... like some half dead fish being toyed with.
Oh Lord, I've fasted and I have prayed... I don't know what else to do, but this is tiring...
I do not want to imagine this being the end... but what can I do? I cannot make her stay whether I think it is "fair" or not. If she has forgotten the love I have showed her, like no love I have ever been able to produce... if she refuses to believe that I am imperfect just like her... if she simply refuses to show me forgiveness in turn... if it is something unnamed that is her reason for escape... whatever it is... Lord, bring comfort and bring understanding... peace peace peace and strength. I need it like you wouldn't believe tonight, well, I'm sure you'd believe it... You know it.
God have your way... you know I am here and you know what I desire...
My heart may break, but you can always restore it...
I'd really rather it not break this time though... break it with something else, but not this.
Showing posts with label prayer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label prayer. Show all posts
Friday, July 2, 2010
Friday, December 11, 2009
Broken Glass
When you put your hands on some broken glass, you're always at risk.
I know this better than most, yeah. Does it stop me from trying to pick the pieces up? Never.
I knew what I was getting myself into, but I did not relent. I have been more careful, by far, this time around, but it is of no use really. This isn't just inanimate, impersonal brokenness; it is a living, breathing someone. You will be cut because they cannot help but, and other times the discomfort you cause them might have them cutting you with ignorance and, more importantly, unknowing intent.
I know this all too well. Does this knowledge ever redirect me? Never. Nope.
It only has apprehension accompany me as I delicately reach and gather all the little and big pieces that I can. It only delays what is inevitable.
I've written about this time and time again, and I wonder, what a great wonder, if this is merely an unhealthy inclination. For those who have not crossed wires like I have, is this desire among them as well? Am I seeking to play God? Am I seeking to merely control and play the savior? Do I only seek out the familiarity of an unhealthy someone who will time and time again break my heart to match their own? How much more must I learn of genuine agape love? Do my choices in regards to love themselves come together in the end to make love, or is love just love? I mean, if I make the right choices can it still be an invalid love? Is it faith and free will or is it all drawn out already?
What business do I have trying to clean up broken glass? I'll never be qualified. This is God's business, not mine. Who am I? Who do I think I am walking around with a broken heart, imperfect love, and an arrogant air... plagued by question amongst questions. Who am I?
I wonder further if I go on sitting in sadness each time and simply bouncing back. Do I have the capacity to fight off the cold weather inside of my chest? I ask if I can go on cutting myself along the sharp edges without becoming callous and hardened again. Can I avoid scarring and maintain a soft hand to handle and touch you?
I am sitting here, arms crossed, staring and wondering. "I wonder." That's a fitting response for the next person who asks how I'm doing or what's new in my life. I sit and I wonder wonder wonder. Are you ok? The next time you say you love me, should I ask, for my sake, that you not even say it because you are probably unable to live out such a statement at this point? Now, that's not to say that you never will be. In fact, I have great hope and faith that you will eventually. These days, that's saying a whole lot, the talk of faith and hope I mean. For the record, go ahead and say it anyway. It always sounds so sweet and I think you're headed in the right direction as of late.
I do wonder though if I should have any part in this restoration. Is it my place? Part of me would like to be, while the apathetic and selfish me would not. The part that would stand to sit and take the injuries along the way, I once again wonder what exactly motivates it. Is it proper selfless love or is it a crooked and dark desire for what is horribly familiar? I don't know, and it kills me not to know, not to understand.
It kills me, dear, to think of your precious glass being broken... the fondness of that breaking that even grew inside of you. It brings me great sadness and it incites anger and disgust. None of this is due to your personal fault, these circumstances, and none of it is directed at you, not by any means, not any little bit. This is the reason I continue to cut myself with these ruthless shards. I cannot stomach these thoughts for very long and to see the broken glass is a reminder. I want to put it all back together again more than I'd like to do anything else in this world. Don't hold back though, please don't. I count it such a privilege that you would share these accounts with me, that you would feel so comfortable as to willfully let me handle these beautiful broken and delicate pieces.
Do I really mean that though, about wanting it more than anything else? Honestly, there is no overnight shipping offered on your package of deliverance, but I won't rule out a miracle. Do I really want to see it more than anything? Am I truly patient as love is? Can I take the earth crumbling chance that it will never arrive because the sound of all the shattering glass has, to you, quieted that small still Voice?
I wish it wasn't raining outside, so I could go for a run or even just a walk. The sound of the rain doesn't help either. Typically it's a soothing sound for me. Tonight though, it is the trickling anxiety that I have for fear of your safety and clarity of judgement. Please don't break my heart two times over in one night. Please? Promise? Ok, I'll muster up whatever "hope" that I can. Back to the run or the walk: instead I'm confined to my bedroom and this silly little box of text. My thoughts are here with me just the same. They really don't have many places to go in such a tight spot. I hope I can sleep tonight.
I told you that you scare me, but I've never really told you why.
Well, my dear, here we are.
I really do love you, and I do hope that I can act it out properly for I would hate to see, in the end, that I too was just breaking the glass as I picked it all up for repair.
I am fearful, and my cowardice speaks clearly to me with great inflection. It's hard not to listen to what he has to say with all that confidence and bravado he carries. He's always been quite convincing, but for how long can I point my finger in his direction. All the while, I'm not fond of allowing circumstance the driver's seat. Personally, I'd like to maintain this push forward, always pushing the circumstance around to fit with my mindset, grinding and pummeling it until it fits a predetermined slot in my belief. Circumstance will not deter or determine my action, and I hope for you to come to the same place. I promise you, get here and I will back you. If you lose your footing, I will grab a firm hold of you. Besides, I need someone to do the same for me. God's here too... and He sure does miss you. He wants you to know that He'll never see you as anything less than His beautiful daughter. You are precious and priceless. Ironically, He's paid a price that covers the priceless. He's given His Son for His daughter, for you. Crimson red grace, mercy and LOVE covers every little blemish, my dear, if you'll have it... if you'll have Him. It will CHANGE you. It will make things new. It will cleanse you. I know I said red wasn't your color, but I'd love nothing more than for you to wear this red cloak for the rest of your life... every day... every minute and tick tock. I swear you would never look more beautiful, and you would never feel so beautiful in anything else. Strangely this sublime, deep dark red turns everything bright white as snow, and there you are standing covered in grace in God's presence.
I want to see you made whole again, sweetheart.
I want you to meet Jesus Christ...
He loves you like I never can, could, will or would. I swear to you He does, and you'll just have to press on despite the discomfort of His unrelenting grace and love. You'll have to go deeper no matter how unreal it seems, no matter what the broken glass tells you for fear of being broken again. You simply must, my dear.
I love you, I really do, but I cannot help you like my good Lord can...
He
loves
YOU.
Count on that one; it's absolute.
I know this better than most, yeah. Does it stop me from trying to pick the pieces up? Never.
I knew what I was getting myself into, but I did not relent. I have been more careful, by far, this time around, but it is of no use really. This isn't just inanimate, impersonal brokenness; it is a living, breathing someone. You will be cut because they cannot help but, and other times the discomfort you cause them might have them cutting you with ignorance and, more importantly, unknowing intent.
I know this all too well. Does this knowledge ever redirect me? Never. Nope.
It only has apprehension accompany me as I delicately reach and gather all the little and big pieces that I can. It only delays what is inevitable.
I've written about this time and time again, and I wonder, what a great wonder, if this is merely an unhealthy inclination. For those who have not crossed wires like I have, is this desire among them as well? Am I seeking to play God? Am I seeking to merely control and play the savior? Do I only seek out the familiarity of an unhealthy someone who will time and time again break my heart to match their own? How much more must I learn of genuine agape love? Do my choices in regards to love themselves come together in the end to make love, or is love just love? I mean, if I make the right choices can it still be an invalid love? Is it faith and free will or is it all drawn out already?
What business do I have trying to clean up broken glass? I'll never be qualified. This is God's business, not mine. Who am I? Who do I think I am walking around with a broken heart, imperfect love, and an arrogant air... plagued by question amongst questions. Who am I?
I wonder further if I go on sitting in sadness each time and simply bouncing back. Do I have the capacity to fight off the cold weather inside of my chest? I ask if I can go on cutting myself along the sharp edges without becoming callous and hardened again. Can I avoid scarring and maintain a soft hand to handle and touch you?
I am sitting here, arms crossed, staring and wondering. "I wonder." That's a fitting response for the next person who asks how I'm doing or what's new in my life. I sit and I wonder wonder wonder. Are you ok? The next time you say you love me, should I ask, for my sake, that you not even say it because you are probably unable to live out such a statement at this point? Now, that's not to say that you never will be. In fact, I have great hope and faith that you will eventually. These days, that's saying a whole lot, the talk of faith and hope I mean. For the record, go ahead and say it anyway. It always sounds so sweet and I think you're headed in the right direction as of late.
I do wonder though if I should have any part in this restoration. Is it my place? Part of me would like to be, while the apathetic and selfish me would not. The part that would stand to sit and take the injuries along the way, I once again wonder what exactly motivates it. Is it proper selfless love or is it a crooked and dark desire for what is horribly familiar? I don't know, and it kills me not to know, not to understand.
It kills me, dear, to think of your precious glass being broken... the fondness of that breaking that even grew inside of you. It brings me great sadness and it incites anger and disgust. None of this is due to your personal fault, these circumstances, and none of it is directed at you, not by any means, not any little bit. This is the reason I continue to cut myself with these ruthless shards. I cannot stomach these thoughts for very long and to see the broken glass is a reminder. I want to put it all back together again more than I'd like to do anything else in this world. Don't hold back though, please don't. I count it such a privilege that you would share these accounts with me, that you would feel so comfortable as to willfully let me handle these beautiful broken and delicate pieces.
Do I really mean that though, about wanting it more than anything else? Honestly, there is no overnight shipping offered on your package of deliverance, but I won't rule out a miracle. Do I really want to see it more than anything? Am I truly patient as love is? Can I take the earth crumbling chance that it will never arrive because the sound of all the shattering glass has, to you, quieted that small still Voice?
I wish it wasn't raining outside, so I could go for a run or even just a walk. The sound of the rain doesn't help either. Typically it's a soothing sound for me. Tonight though, it is the trickling anxiety that I have for fear of your safety and clarity of judgement. Please don't break my heart two times over in one night. Please? Promise? Ok, I'll muster up whatever "hope" that I can. Back to the run or the walk: instead I'm confined to my bedroom and this silly little box of text. My thoughts are here with me just the same. They really don't have many places to go in such a tight spot. I hope I can sleep tonight.
I told you that you scare me, but I've never really told you why.
Well, my dear, here we are.
I really do love you, and I do hope that I can act it out properly for I would hate to see, in the end, that I too was just breaking the glass as I picked it all up for repair.
I am fearful, and my cowardice speaks clearly to me with great inflection. It's hard not to listen to what he has to say with all that confidence and bravado he carries. He's always been quite convincing, but for how long can I point my finger in his direction. All the while, I'm not fond of allowing circumstance the driver's seat. Personally, I'd like to maintain this push forward, always pushing the circumstance around to fit with my mindset, grinding and pummeling it until it fits a predetermined slot in my belief. Circumstance will not deter or determine my action, and I hope for you to come to the same place. I promise you, get here and I will back you. If you lose your footing, I will grab a firm hold of you. Besides, I need someone to do the same for me. God's here too... and He sure does miss you. He wants you to know that He'll never see you as anything less than His beautiful daughter. You are precious and priceless. Ironically, He's paid a price that covers the priceless. He's given His Son for His daughter, for you. Crimson red grace, mercy and LOVE covers every little blemish, my dear, if you'll have it... if you'll have Him. It will CHANGE you. It will make things new. It will cleanse you. I know I said red wasn't your color, but I'd love nothing more than for you to wear this red cloak for the rest of your life... every day... every minute and tick tock. I swear you would never look more beautiful, and you would never feel so beautiful in anything else. Strangely this sublime, deep dark red turns everything bright white as snow, and there you are standing covered in grace in God's presence.
I want to see you made whole again, sweetheart.
I want you to meet Jesus Christ...
He loves you like I never can, could, will or would. I swear to you He does, and you'll just have to press on despite the discomfort of His unrelenting grace and love. You'll have to go deeper no matter how unreal it seems, no matter what the broken glass tells you for fear of being broken again. You simply must, my dear.
I love you, I really do, but I cannot help you like my good Lord can...
He
loves
YOU.
Count on that one; it's absolute.
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