Love, Musings, Pain, Words

Once upon a dream

“I remember tracing my fingers over your face, trying to memorize every inch of you. I was so afraid that one day you would be taken away from me. I remember thinking how lucky I was to have held you so close. I wanted for nothing else when I was with you. Those days tangled up in you – I never wanted it to end. But now you’re gone and all I’m left with is the ghost of you. Grief cracks my heart wide open. I knew this moment would come. I knew I had to memorize you because one day I wouldn’t be able to hold you anymore. 

I met you and it changed me. For once in my life there was something I wanted. So much. I think maybe I loved you more than love allowed.”

Sometimes I scroll through the saved entries in my journal and I shock myself with how real and how potent my emotions were at the time of writing. I remember when I wrote this. It was late into the night – grief had torn my chest wide open and tears were spilling out of my eyes as I typed into my phone with trembling fingers. I had known loss before but not like this. I had known betrayal before but never like this.

It was then that I learnt that love can push you to the brink of esctacy only to kill you in the next moment without so much as a warning sign. And I, I was but a frail doll caught up in the brazen ruthless arms of the wrong man. 

Those months were so sleepless. I never want to feel that kind of horrific pain again.

But time is merciful. It softens the blow of wounds and quietly tucks memories away on a little shelf. Time has also made room for a quiet hope inside my heart that one day I might hold a love so sweet and tender in my arms again, this time maybe for real. Maybe to stay. 

… I wonder if I will know inside when it is safe to love that deeply again. 

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Pain, Process, restoration, Trials, Wilderness

Nostalgia 

Sometimes I wish I could go back in time, wrap my fragile younger self in my arms and say to her, “Everything’s going to be alright. He restores.” God knows how much she needed to hear it. But I can’t do that of course. I can’t tell her how much she really is worth. I can’t tell her that she doesn’t need to fight for love because real love would have fought for her. I can’t tell her that what she needs is to protect and fight for her own heart and dignity instead. I can’t tell her that all she ever needs can be found in the safe and loving arms of a Father. I can’t tell her that she really is beautiful, even when she sees anything but staring back at her in the mirror. I can’t tell her that Love is wiping away her tears each night as she cries herself to sleep, and that Mercy will make it all brand new. I can’t tell her about the way He will turn it all around and make her little heart strong and capable of withstanding anything. I can’t tell her how He will fill her eyes light and help her dare to hope and dream again. I can’t do any of that. 

But I will spend the rest of my life telling it to every other broken young girl I meet. 

Because it’s true. He did it. Every little thing He promised to me, He fulfilled and is still fulfilling. He’s turned it all around and I can’t even recognize any trace of that broken little girl I once was. He’s given me beauty for ashes, strength for brokenness and praise for sorrow. Faithful He has been, and faithful He will be. My faithful, faithful Restorer. He’s the reason I still believe today. He is every stubborn breath and relentless pump of this still-beating heart. He is why I can get back on my two feet no matter what comes to break me in this life — I swear I will not be broken because He holds my every piece.

Don’t lose hope. 

He isn’t nowhere near done with you. 

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Pain, Trials, Wilderness, Words

Broken pieces // the shattered remains of what could have been

I’m standing here. I’m standing here and I’m looking around me and all I see are broken pieces. I kneel down and try to pick them up – but all I do is cut myself on these ragged glass edges. Tell me what to do. Pleasejust tell me what to do. 

I can’t bear the sight of all this. 

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Pain, Trials, Wilderness

Tired, Just Tired. 

It’s been a weary few months, with my heart being tossed to and fro by the waves. Most of the time my pain feels like a maze I will never be able to climb my way out of. I am tired of the uncertainty that surrounds me. I speak of hope to the people around me, even though I am not sure if I have any left for myself. There are nights when I lie in bed with tears falling down my face, wondering how I ever got here to this place. Wondering why I keep looking for happiness in the place I lost it. I cry myself to exhaustion, and finally fall asleep in a dreamless haze, only to wake up to questions unanswered and longings unfulfilled yet again.

Please heal my heart Jesus. I don’t know how to heal it myself. I don’t know how I got here. 

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Pain, Prayer, Process, Trials, Wilderness

The Struggle

“My dear,
we are all made of water. 
it’s okay to rage. sometimes 
it’s okay to rest. to recede.”
// Sanober Khan

I am weary and heavy hearted. Strong waves pull me down underwater and I struggle to breathe. The fight inside of me rages though I beg for mercy, beg for silence. Tears stream down my face as I break, unable to contain the war within. So much pain for such a small body. 

I collapse in a grieving heap at Your feet. The only place I find comfort, the only One I know how to trust. 

“Rockabye baby come and rest
You’ve been tired lately 
Lay your head down

Don’t you think baby I know best?
I’ve been a Father for a long time.” 

Grace! I need grace for this journey. Please. 

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