For too long I had wallowed in it, that darkness of soul and spirit, I who once had known the Light of wideness and hope . .
Psalm 102:6 I am like a melancholy pelican or vulture of the wilderness; I am like a [desolate] owl of the waste places. (Amplified)
I suppose it isn't until you move past a point that you begin to really understand just how lost you were.
Isaiah 34:11 But pelican and hedgehog will possess it,
And owl and raven will dwell in it;
And He will stretch over it the line of desolation
And the plumb line of emptiness. (NAS)
"What are your dreams" . . words that struck the deepest despair in me. I had none any longer. Oh small little goals, meaningless in the grander scheme of things. But emptiness had narrowed my heart so tightly that the only choice left was despair.
What was it that changed, and how did it come about? I still am not sure I fully understand. There are images that are like bullet points in the dialog in my head that I've just not been able to set to words, though I have most definitely tried . .
* a coworker's indomitable positive-ness, despite her less than positive home life. She sees the best in everyone, and never misses a chance to tell them.
* the instant smile that my mother-in-law would reward the nurses who woke her early mornings when it was my turn to sit vigil near her the last week of her life. And actually, so much of her life spoke volumes to us all. She loved us all so intensely.
* The friendship and fellowship and natural joy of those assembled to celebrate the new home of some old friends who'd lost everything they had in a fire. Even the week after it happened, wrangling with insurance companies and two combined households (nearly 18 souls) crammed together . . they radiated confidence that God was still on His throne . .
* Those here, on CF, who's joy and love and confidence dominate their every word
. . it suddenly seemed so easy to give up my grimy bundle for His riches. I am certain there have been prayers, and I am eager to one day find out whom to thank.
Fear's stranglehold is vanquished. All my life I have been driven by a fear of rejection, something I know everyone battles to some degree, but for me it was a defining fence around everything I did. That first week, over a month ago now, felt so odd to be free, to be bathed in joy, to face test after test, amazed to see it hold, and not cave in to self pity and mourning.
Morning by morning, I climb into His great, wide heart before I even get out of bed, and as a small, trusting child, touch his face with awe. There is nothing I want more, it is everything I dreamed. Happiness is not only something I observe in others, it is now mine as well.
Isaiah 54:2 Enlarge the place of your tent, and let the curtains of your habitations be stretched out; spare not; lengthen your cords and strengthen your stakes,
Life has split open again, so full of hope and possibility and promise. Still, it takes a daily choosing . . Nothing has really changed, and yet everything has.
Sharon Chmielarz penned it so wonderfully . .
New Water
All those years ~ almost a hundred ~
The farm had hard water.
Hard orange. Buckets lined in orange.
Sink and tub and toilet, too,
Once they got running water.
And now, in less than a lifetime,
Just by changing the well’s location,
In the same yard, mind you,
The water’s soft, clear, delicious to drink.
All those years to shake your head over.
Look how sweet life has become;
You can see it in the couple who live here,
Their calmness as they sit at their table
The beauty as they offer you new water to drink.
Psalm 102:6 I am like a melancholy pelican or vulture of the wilderness; I am like a [desolate] owl of the waste places. (Amplified)
I suppose it isn't until you move past a point that you begin to really understand just how lost you were.
Isaiah 34:11 But pelican and hedgehog will possess it,
And owl and raven will dwell in it;
And He will stretch over it the line of desolation
And the plumb line of emptiness. (NAS)
"What are your dreams" . . words that struck the deepest despair in me. I had none any longer. Oh small little goals, meaningless in the grander scheme of things. But emptiness had narrowed my heart so tightly that the only choice left was despair.
What was it that changed, and how did it come about? I still am not sure I fully understand. There are images that are like bullet points in the dialog in my head that I've just not been able to set to words, though I have most definitely tried . .
* a coworker's indomitable positive-ness, despite her less than positive home life. She sees the best in everyone, and never misses a chance to tell them.
* the instant smile that my mother-in-law would reward the nurses who woke her early mornings when it was my turn to sit vigil near her the last week of her life. And actually, so much of her life spoke volumes to us all. She loved us all so intensely.
* The friendship and fellowship and natural joy of those assembled to celebrate the new home of some old friends who'd lost everything they had in a fire. Even the week after it happened, wrangling with insurance companies and two combined households (nearly 18 souls) crammed together . . they radiated confidence that God was still on His throne . .
* Those here, on CF, who's joy and love and confidence dominate their every word
. . it suddenly seemed so easy to give up my grimy bundle for His riches. I am certain there have been prayers, and I am eager to one day find out whom to thank.
Fear's stranglehold is vanquished. All my life I have been driven by a fear of rejection, something I know everyone battles to some degree, but for me it was a defining fence around everything I did. That first week, over a month ago now, felt so odd to be free, to be bathed in joy, to face test after test, amazed to see it hold, and not cave in to self pity and mourning.
Morning by morning, I climb into His great, wide heart before I even get out of bed, and as a small, trusting child, touch his face with awe. There is nothing I want more, it is everything I dreamed. Happiness is not only something I observe in others, it is now mine as well.
Isaiah 54:2 Enlarge the place of your tent, and let the curtains of your habitations be stretched out; spare not; lengthen your cords and strengthen your stakes,
Life has split open again, so full of hope and possibility and promise. Still, it takes a daily choosing . . Nothing has really changed, and yet everything has.
Sharon Chmielarz penned it so wonderfully . .
New Water
All those years ~ almost a hundred ~
The farm had hard water.
Hard orange. Buckets lined in orange.
Sink and tub and toilet, too,
Once they got running water.
And now, in less than a lifetime,
Just by changing the well’s location,
In the same yard, mind you,
The water’s soft, clear, delicious to drink.
All those years to shake your head over.
Look how sweet life has become;
You can see it in the couple who live here,
Their calmness as they sit at their table
The beauty as they offer you new water to drink.
