I've been walking in the dark. Honing my night vision, spiritually. Psalm 51 has been a great comfort:
Open my lips, Lord, and my mouth will declare Your praise. My sacrifice, O God, is a broken spirit. A broken and contrite heart You will not despise. I am reminded of
a time such as this when repentance healed my broken heart, so broken it felt dead and silent inside me. I "turn my mind", words so similar to the definition of "repentance", the Hebrew word שׁוּבָה transliterated "shubah", meaning
a return or
a turning away from.
I remember, too, that I counted gifts then, wrote them down with paper and ink so they were there, indelible, monuments of God's faithfulness to bless me even in the dark night. And so, again, I pick up notebook, the one with pages and pages of the sins I've committed, the one I wrote my heart out in this past week. Spewing sadness. On top of the new page I tape the template for the tattoo I got on my wrist on Monday, covering up scars: Choose Life, from Deuteronomy 30 - the chapter of Scripture with the heading "The Offer of Life or Death". And then I begin again, at number 2,000, to number gifts. My therapist calls this "accumulating positives".
Life hangs in the balance, and I choose to pile more on the side of Life and Joy than on Despair and Death.
The sunlight streams back into my soul, and I have 3 good days in a row. (I whisper this, as if hope may truly BE the thing with feathers that perches on the soul, and perhaps would will take wing if startled.) I have chosen the long, slow road of faith. There are quicker ways to peace, but none other that lasts for eternity. In the carbon black days of depression, I pray the fire in my brain is forming diamonds. For today, I simply give thanks for a good day. A reprieve, a relief, like the sigh as you lay head on pillow after a hard day's work, muscles melting and pain fading as you rest.
#2001 breakfast in bed
#2002 children's morning smiles as they serve it
#2003 skills lab with 50 eager students
#2004 laughing with my mama
6 comments:
And this has been my heart song for you ( Very literally, singing in faith over you). This day of your is a balm for me too. Praise Him!
Humble tears of gratitude that you would even pray for me, love me, after what I've done, how I think, who I am.
Who am I but a desperate sinner? Pray? Yes, I pray for the gorgeous One, the merciful One to redeem my, your, OUR brokenness. His beauty if ours, yours and mine. And I thank Him because He who has begun this work, will do it. I love you...
Argh! The tippos in both my post! Oh well, one of these days I'll self edit before pressing publish. :)
Did I really just spell tippo? Eye roll! :)
Rolling on the floor!! I needed this classic dose of AMY.
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