When the Words Come

These pages have fallen silent the past few months. The words just haven’t come.

Today the words came. The words came with intensity. They hit me with such urgency and surprise, it took all I had to not fill up post it notes at my desk. I counted down until my lunch break. I knew I needed that hour. I needed  to write, to pray, to think, to focus, to process, to absorb, to just spill my heart, because the words came, and the words came with force.

I love the quote by Flannery O’Connor:

I write because I don’t know what I think until I read what I say

The words came and the pages filled.

While these pages have been quiet, my soul has been the opposite. It’s been wrestling. Wrestling on lined journal pages with brightly colored penned thoughts, petitions, prayers.

Wrestling towards growth. Wrestling for change. Wrestling for more.

See, the thing is, I’ve realized that I’m tired of living weary, defeated, and discouraged.

I’m tired of a just-surviving mindset.

I want more. More of Him because lukewarm is no longer an option.

Part of the wrestlings have been the discernment to know what to share and what is meant to stay secret between me and Him. While writing helps me understand my emotions and thoughts, not all journal entries are meant to be shared. Some are just for Him and me. And I love that. I love that our secrets and thoughts are safe with Him. I love the intimacy of the journey – the secrets on the page. I think Mary enjoyed that too. Those certain ponderings of her heart, ponderings shared only between her and her Father.

Some of my journal ponderings will stay nestled between the thick pages, secure. Others however make their way forth – they become the sounds of the click of keyboard keys that compose these pages of mine.

These words, they are to be shared.

What have my journal pages recorded of late?

The desire, the desperation for more. A spiritual dissatisfaction covers me, thick. I need more. More of His Spirit, more of His perspective, more of Him. I want a deeper sense of my calling, my passion, and my purpose. The reason God has me here. I don’t want to waste these breaths. I want to live a life that matters – a life after the “Well Done.”

So I’m in the wait, stumbling over my feet, legs burning, climbing the watch tower to train my eyes to look for my King. He doesn’t want me to seek a platform, but His Face. He wants me to wait on Him to build up in me what needs to be developed until I am ready in His time. To spend time with Him, to memorize the exact hue of His eyes, to identify the creases of His smile, to know His heart and His character. Then one day I’ll catch that glimpse or perhaps a subtle nod and follow His footprints forth.

In a Bible Study a couple of weeks ago the speaker asked: “Has Jesus been good to you?” I wrote the question down in purple ink and haven’t looked back at it until today.

Has Jesus been good to you?

I struggle with this concept so much at times, but why? When has Jesus ever not been good to me? When has He ever failed me? Deserted me? Abandoned me? Crushed me?

He’s allowed hard things, yes. He allowed Hawk to deploy, He’s allowed loneliness and betrayal and hurt, but didn’t He always see me through? Did He not carry me through? Did He not wipe my tears and hold me tight even when I pounded on His chest?

Was it not Jesus who pieced me back together, who healed and restored my bitter heart? Was it not Him who took my momentary sorrow and replaced it with joy that keeps reaping more joy?Was it not Him who orchestrated every moment of “the wait” to make Hawk and I the people we are today, who guided our paths to each other, who bonded our souls together, and answered a thirteen year old little girl’s prayer? Wasn’t that Him?

Was it not Him who wooed me back? Who restored in me a Holy passion for more?

Is it not Him who covers me in grace minute by minutes even when I am ungrateful and selfish? Is is not Him who saves me from myself?

Isn’t it Jesus? Because it’s certainly not me.

He is I AM. The past, present, future. His timing is perfect, because He is perfect.

I’m resting in this:  He knows the ponderings of my heart. He knows the desires. He knows the fears. His ways are not my ways, His thoughts are not my thoughts. He has a perfect plan and His plan will prevail. I’m resting in His arms and letting Him lead. Letting Him carry me to the timing of the cadence of His heartbeat. He loves us too much to give us lesser things.

Has Jesus been good to me?

Yes, He assuredly has.

 

Faithful You have been and faithful you will be
You pledge yourself to me and it’s why I sing

Your praise will ever be on my lips, ever be on my lips
Your praise will ever be on my lips, ever be on my lips
Your praise will ever be on my lips, ever be on my lips
Your praise will ever be on my lips, ever be on my lips

– “Ever Be”