Sometimes you just need to sit in quietude.
I know friend that sometimes it is easier said than done. For distractions allow us to numb out the pain, and our minds. Sometimes it is in dwelling in a quiet place that our soul can connect to that part of itself that needs to vent, to reflect.
To the part that needs to spew out the inner toxic emotions in tears, in prayers, and in rants. Rants that made more sense within your mind, and once you speak them out loud they sound so petty and so childish; as though they don’t hold as much finality as you thought they did.
Lately the quiet places have been a hard place for me to dwell. It’s in the quiet that I discover how lonely I feel, and I discover how restless and broken I truly am. It’s a hollow place when you are in a tough season, but I believe that it can also be a place that brews contentment when you are in a sweet season.
This fragile space has let me to cry out in thankfulness that Jesus came for the sick. That he comes for the people who are broken. It’s a comfort that I can’t even begin to explain. It has been like one of those revelations that catches you in the throat like a burning sob, reminding you of the power of emotion, and the power of being so human, and the power of a God whose Gospel is so real.
It’s hard to sit with myself and dig. Dig deep down past my bones, past the flesh into a cosmic soul that is far from home. Digging is archeology-an excavation of meaning a study of ourselves. It is seeking the heart of God in the midst of the rubble all the while accepting the direction of its unearthing.
The wind blows wherever it pleases. You hear its sound, but you cannot tell where it comes from or where it is going. So it is with everyone born of the Spirit. (John 3:8)
God knows when something glorious in the future necessitates something difficult in the present. Because He knows the glory will be worth it, God will risk being misunderstood. (Beth Moore)
So as I sit in the quiet place and attempt to accept its mystery, its ebbs and its flows, I will remind myself that His ways are higher. We live in a broken world, but thank God that the physician has come for such people like us.
Thank you God for dwelling with me in the quiet place, and for risking being misunderstood… as the mystery is to grand for me/ us to grasp.
Blessings to you friends,
*Please excuse my unpainted fingernails, and blurry self portrait.