I read Your Word, specifically Your Psalms, and I hear the call to come up higher, come cuddle in Your lap, come rejoice with You. Today . . . today . . . I give thanks. You have not left me to the enemies of my soul – depression, fear, anger, worry – that were eating up my heart and our dreams. Yes, I do believe that we share many dreams, though my view of them can’t even compare to the depth of Your understanding, wisdom and love stored up for those who love You and trust You. For me. Weak and frail me. Doubting and angry me. I’m taking faltering steps toward You, toward the dreams that You will fulfill.
Create in me a new heart, Oh God! Restore a right spirit within me! May these past few weeks of rest and contentment just be the beginning of the restoration of all that You have in store, all that I have been blinded to in the midst of my hurricane of emotions.
I read the promise of Psalm 31: “I’m leaping and singing in the circle of your love; you saw my pain, you disarmed my tormentors, You didn’t leave me in their clutches but gave me room to breathe.” You have seen and heard. You have given me – Your Beloved – sleep and rest.
Thank you for the pain of disappointment . . . for without it I would not have known Your faithfulness.
Thank you for the burning effects of depression . . . for without it I would not be so aware of the pitfalls of walking desolate roads alone.
Thank you for anger . . . for without it I would not have dove nearly as deep into the recesses of wounds, willing myself to rise to the surface once again of Your grace, gasping for air.
Thank you for those who have walked along side of me, listened to me rant, stayed true when I wanted to turn my back. Thank you for the community of believers You have surrounded me with.
May my life bring You glory this year. May my transparency begin to be more than just healing to my own soul, but a balm to others as I learn to passionately pursue You and love others. May I worship when only broken hallelujahs escape me lips. May I decrease . . . over and over again.
Break me like torn loaves of bread to feed the hungry. Pour me out to satisfy the thirsty.