Pouring it out.

I came here to write, but I find myself out of words, or rather, with nothing new to say.  

But he knows.  He hears my groans, and the Spirit intercedes for me.  He gives me strength not to try to write my own story, as if that would truly work anyway.  But he gives me strength to believe, in faith, that it is better to wait and trust and read the story a page at a time instead of peeking ahead at the ending to know how it turns out.

I guess, in truth, we’ve seen the ultimate ending.  He wins.  But the way my life will play out, I have yet to see.  And I know he’s seen it.  Like the presents that were wrapped so beautifully under our Christmas tree, he knows what is wrapped up in my life.  And I want to beg with him and plead with him some days for some reassurance that I will have what I so desperately want.  But gently he teaches me that faith is walking one step at a time.

So that is what I will do.  But right now, I am broken, and cried out, and a little sad and a little mad.  And I know He can take it – he already has, and yet he has calmed me and brought me peace.  And I am pouring all that out before the Lord, the one who knit together my mind, my heart, and my soul, and who knows my thoughts.  And I am asking him to just be present.


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