Two years ago, on my way home from work, my word for the year collided with my heart. As I glanced around at the shattered pieces around me, I wondered how in the world God would bring jubilee to such a place as this :: a broken hope, wounded and wanting.
The next few months were easily the hardest I ever experienced. I remember them as a constant fog – cold mornings, salty tears and a desperation to feel despite the memories. He chased me, though. Relentlessly. Those were the days of hearing Oh How He Loves every where I turned. Those were the nights of sinking in an ocean of His grace. I learned that year Beauty is worth pursuing and my story, however uncomfortable or dark, deserves to see the light of day. Slowly, I opened my eyes. Slowly, I felt the chains fall away.
And this past year? When the clock struck midnight, I knew the work was just beginning. Whereas before He wanted me to embrace jubilee, now He wanted me to abide. For a girl who runs – for a heart that hides – this proved excruciating. I may be free, but I just knew there had to be a price. Somewhere, somehow, I would have to pay for this faithfulness. But I stayed. I cried through tough conversations instead of running away. I stood on the side of the road in the middle of a thunder show and screamed for the first time in my life. I sat in my closet and let the tears fall on the unused baby clothes. In the process, I found my tribe. And when He asked me to risk it all – to let go of my job in order for me to figure out what it really means to be Fathered – I found the only thing I could do was press my head against His chest, clinging tightly to His robe, and wait.
I will not lie :: these past two years have been hard. It’s never easy to peel the dragon skin off your soul. And Him crashing up against your stone -heart in order to breathe life into your bones will sting.
But what’s left is beautiful – a deeper understanding of His love, a freedom to live in His light and a readiness to breathe deep and jump.
Let me speak to those of you hurting. Can I look you in the eyes for a minute? Allow me to pull up a chair next to you and hold your hand. I don’t mind if you stare at the tissue in your lap. Close your eyes and hear these words: You are not alone. Even in the middle of the night, when you wake from yet another haunting dream, He is there. He sees. More importantly – He hears. He knows those dark spaces you just can’t face. My spaces were dark and scary and for the longest time I stared in wide-eyed terror when asked to bring those secrets to the surface. He will be there, though – holding your hand, whispering words meant only for you – until you’re ready. And when it’s time to face the demons, He’ll pick you up close enough to hear His heart beat for you and you’ll know what it means to be free. No strings. No payback.
In short, the Spirit is upon me to declare that now is the time; this is the jubilee season of the Eternal One’s grace - Luke 4:18-19 (The Voice)