Reflections of an Easterlily: September 2010

Hosea 6: 1-3
1Come, let us return to the LORD.
He has torn us to pieces
but he will heal us;
he has injured us
but he will bind up our wounds.

2 After two days he will revive us;
on the third day he will restore us,
that we may live in his presence.

3 Let us acknowledge the LORD;
let us press on to acknowledge him.
As surely as the sun rises,
he will appear;
he will come to us like the winter rains,
like the spring rains that water the earth.

It comes out of nowhere. I’m caught off guard by its sudden attack. In a moment, I feel encouraged. In the next, I’m desperate. My eyes start to well up with tears that blur my vision. Before I’m aware of it, my face becomes saturated with despair. I control it no longer. I begin to sob uncontrollably. Every angry, bitter fraction of me seeps out of my body. My mind races wildly with thoughts of misery, deception and anguish. I commence to throw myself upon my bed in angst and continue to weep. I’m wrecked.

I don’t know why or really even how I got to this place. I’ve fallen fatal to the legalistic lies. I’m hurt, sick to my stomach some days of this season. All that is within me is dry. I’m in the process of being stripped. I’m in the process of being broken. I’m in the process of being shattered. And currently, I despise every minute of it. I’m beginning to lose parts of me that I’ve grown accustomed to; were maybe rooted in my garden and easy to cultivate. I’ve lost direction and purpose for a time, and I’m not really sure when I’ll get it back. I hear silence when I try to speak and my heart just grows weary of the efforts. My flesh feels abandoned and alone. Truth seems like a mystery and the promises feel distant. I realize the need of my labor, but I prolong my struggle to find liberation above the rubble. My fears paralyze me as lies flood my mind. Restoration seems isolated. Doubt has encased my perseverance.

Even still, faith has called me to wait upon The shadow I may abide in and His presence to call my home. I’m not joyous about it, but that’s not the point.