Saturday, September 17, 2011

write to breathe

i've been all choked up of heart,
and who really wants to share their heart
exposing it naked when you can't make sense of yourself.
so i've avoided this place like a violent stomach virus,
for fear of spewing my innards on the floor before you,
the stench and mess infecting you too.

so i've hurled and i heaved in the only healthy way i know,
prayer and pleading, confession and bleeding.
my God, i know that He can handle the mess of hurt i lay down.
and a few precious sisters of the soul, have shared to lighten the load.

but tonight, the hot tears falling,
i feel i must write to breathe.

four years of life on our own,
and the pain of missing the moments,
it pierces and it stings every time.

we sit quietly tonight. alone, a world apart.
and our family, they gather together, and they connect and they eat,
celebrating life as every loving family should.
they linger over laughter and soak in the children
taking in together the moments that make up a lifetime.

i've cried these tears four years of quiet evenings,
watching from afar the milestones and the mundane,
(mundane only to those who have known the beauty of togetherness so long they are numb to the gift)
technology can be a blessing and a curse.
who can know the pain of exile? that's how my husband explains it.

and i scold myself a thousand times, each person's cross to carry worth the weight.
who can know the pain of a husband passing?
or a child missing? or hunger piercing? or health depleting?
wars wage and pain suffocates; who am I to be melancholy?
selfish me with my cupboards full and my body strong
my children sleeping safe, my husband loving faithfully and true.

but tonight, the hot tears falling,
i feel i must write to breathe.

i walked a road of death this week,
never before knowing the ways of self-loathing.
selfish, wretched mess of a woman. hopeless.
that's what the enemy whispered.
and for the first time, i agreed,
believing it so deeply, I wanted to tatoo it to my skin.

but jesus sent my husband to pray words of life over me,
and its a good thing, because Eden falling is a scary place to live.
satan, he deceives, and even now, that fruit entices.
"Can I really trust your heart toward me is Good?"

my God pursing and my Adam gently loving,
i dared to breathe in of hope.
But hope is a scary thing;
deferred it makes the heart sick, that's what proverbs says.
and waiting seems to be all I've ever known.

so I stand staring into the black night,
not knowing when or how the light will appear.
but I know the one who led me here is Good.
and though the enemy surrounds, insisting that He has abandoned,
left me for dead, never returning,
i clench my eyes and scream into the piercing darkness,

"I HAVE A FATHER! He promised to never leave me! He promised to work all things together for the good of those that love him. And I do love him, frail as I am. He has a son who is called Faithful and True. He promised to be with me always, until the very end of the age. If he saw fit to lead me into this dark, he will come for me, and he will lead me through it!"

with eyes still clenched, and in broken whisper I finish,

"And I...I. trust. Him."

when your dreams have been stripped away
and your hope lies limp and dead,
it is terrifying to trust the one who is the architect of the plan
that has brought so much pain.
i imagine Jesus felt this way when he hung from the cross that should be mine:
"My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" (Matt 27:46)

but when we find ourselves in this place,
let us resound with Hosea:
“Come, let us return to the LORD. He has torn us to pieces but he will heal us; he has injured us but he will bind up our wounds." (6:1).

i trust that if he injures, if he strips, if he isolates, if he burns,
it is for my refining, my undivided heart, my growth, my good.

so tonight, in pain I don't understand, hot tears falling,
i feel I must write to breathe:
"The Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away.
Blessed be the name of the Lord." (Job 1:21)
ejk

5 comments:

j said...

I understand the catharsis and need to write. The beauty and exhalation it breeds. The sense it makes and the peace it leaves to write words, and spill feelings, even ones at times, that no other eye but our own reads. Necessary. I get it. I also feel for you, for the struggle and the tears. You are beautiful and dearly loved. His truth has to trump out out our own. I know you believe this. I know you trust Him. I know youre aware of the evil one who tries to stifle, strangle and kill. But even more aware are you of the One who breathes life, and hope and truth and promise into the mess this broken world leaves us in. Praying for you...for
that fragile, precious heart to be restored, refreshed, and to awake in the morning feeling new mercies and life anew.

Kurt and Kristine said...

I so want to rush out and give you a hug because I know exactly how you feel! We've been here almost 5 years and it hurts watching my baby grow up without our families around. Ministry is/can be such an incredibly lonely place sometimes and there are many times you feel God is too busy with everyone else around you to remember your problems (that's where I am right now) Praying for strength and comfort for you. Thanks for doing what you do, keeping a house and home running so your husband can use his God-given talents to bless others and bring others to the Lord. I know it's a big sacrifice :) love you girl!! Always praying for you and your family... and always a sister in ministry willing to lend a listening ear.

Anonymous said...

My child, I feel the pain too. I miss you and spoiling my grandkids. When you were little, we moved to maysville and I too had to start over with new family. Life is like a chapter book. Each with its own pain and gain. As I look back I can see how God used us to minister toso many families. Only heaven will reveal what is accomplished for his names sake. In the meantime, don't beat up on yourself, God will take care of you. He knows the yearnings of your heart and loves you more than we could ever. We will spend eternity together and have lots of stories to share with friends and family. We are praying for God's timing in your return to family. One thing I have learned is that there is no better timing than God's timing. I have been thru a few dark valleys and know he is there just in time. I LOVE YOU! mom

Kimberly Kirk said...

My dear friend, thank you for you authenticity. So refreshing. My heart is hurting with you. I love you.

mom kirk said...

mine too.love and miss you.praying