goodness, Hope, Pain, restoration, Trials, Wilderness

Good good Father? 

You’re a good good Father 

It’s who You are, it’s who You are 

And I’m loved by You

It’s who I am, it’s who I am 

You are perfect in all of Your ways to us. 

What a beautiful song. But as the crowd sang it in church today, I could barely even open my mouth. There was nothing inside me that believed those words. Absolutely nothing. Disappointment has been the theme of my life and it has so clouded my vision and hardened my heart against the goodness of God. Is it even real? Is it even for me? I don’t believe it. 

Mighty and holy yes, but a good Father? No. Everything in my experience has dictated to me otherwise. Pain sears my heart when songs like these are sung during worship because I cannot join the congregation of the faithful to declare what I do not believe. It makes me so sad. Life is so hopeless when you don’t know how to believe this one simple truth. 

Yet I don’t know how to walk away. I keep hoping that someday, somehow, He will come and prove me wrong. That He will show me His goodness in a way that I can finally understand. He has to. Because I don’t know what else to do anymore. 

Will You meet me where I am God? Can you reach me past all my walls? Will You restore and redeem all that has been broken so that I can see Your heart for what it is again? How I need it. How I need it so much.. 

Advertisements
Standard
Pain

Lost // Gentle Bones

I can’t seem to find my way back home

The same path took me somewhere I didn’t know

Is this the part where I give up and die?

For they either had me rid of or denied

For when I shout I start to mumble 

All these words stuck in my mouth

I see help arrive but I can’t do a thing

And with the heat I start to tremble and the air’s lost in my lungs

While I can’t seem to break a single sweat

Is this where I wanna be, is this where I wanna sleep

Being lost in isolation and defeat

Do I have nowhere else to go, or is there somewhere I don’t know of

Would you take me away from this please?

Faces changing, everything’s not right

How could I have let this chance slip by

Well it’s that day that comes again, and we see nothing in the rain

And my head’s in the clouds the whole night

This ain’t the end my mother said

For life is too short as it is

But I bear in mind that we are all that we need to be, to be complete

Standard
Pain, Process

Enough. 

Today, somebody – a father figure – gave me permission to let go. I didn’t know just how much I needed that until I heard it coming from his lips. What a relief it was, after all this time, to finally be allowed to.

The expectations of other people can sometimes be such a cruel thing. So beyond the “shoulds” and the “shouldn’ts”, I’m taking back my own damn life. 

Standard
Musings, Pain, Words

What do I say to you girls — you beautiful girls? You girls who are having the Bad Year — the Bad Year where you cannot remember why you were happy aged 12, and cannot imagine being happy at 21? … That panic and anxiety will lie to you — they are gonzo, malign commentators on the events of your life. Their counsel is wrong. You are as high, wired and badly advised by adrenaline as you would be by cocaine. Panic and anxiety are mad, drugged fools. Do not listen to their grinding-toothed, sweaty bullshit … And the most important thing? To know that you were not born like this. You were not born scared and self-loathing and overwhelmed. Things have been done — which means things can be undone. It is hard work. But you are not scared of hard work, compared with everything else you have dealt with.

Caitlin Moran 

Standard
Pain, Prayer, Trials, Wilderness

Hanging on by a tiny thread

There are times when life corners you in so, and all you can do is fall on your face before God for help, hoping against hope that He will come through for you. That your tears are not in vain and that there is a God who sees and hears. That, whatever it looks like, your redemption will come. 

Please don’t make me wait for too long, I’m so afraid I might let go. 

Standard