My mind wanders in and out, over and through this thing called time. And this elusive thing called healing – it winds through time, in and out and through years, and then just seems to – vanish. I had it. Where did it go?
This past year has been dark. Hard. How do you cling to promises over a decade old when everything in you screams, “Just give up!”
2012 was an unexpectedly brutal year. Every direction I turned held loss. Friends. Family. Health. Healing. Hope. I know from experience that there are treasures to be found in the darkness – jewels all my own. But without His light, who can see them?
Did I hear him? Or was it my own wishful thinking? Did he really say those things to me? That He would heal my body, complete my mind and open my mouth?
A decade and I’m still waiting…..
Some say God’s promises are sure. I say, they are slow, at best. But I know better. He is not after my idea of healing. He is after His.
My first glimpse of hope – ever – came so many years ago. Sitting in a psychiatric ward, alone, used up, an empty shell – my mind and heart in pieces, my identity lost, my life worthless. And He came. And He spoke, words of hope, words of promise – in the darkness. I would be healed someday, and would use my voice to heal others.
I’m still waiting.
And I have yielded endlessly to His ways, His thoughts, His timing – for years. And here I sit still. In pain. Silent. Watching, waiting – for the completion of His promise to me.
And so there are days, many, when I want to just give up. It’s too hard. It’s never coming. It’s just wishful thinking. I will never be free. Lies – are they? – swirl in and out and through, partnering with time to push me under this ocean of pain, threatening often to drown me altogether.
In the drowning, I saw a hand reach out this year. Hope sparked. I grabbed on. It pushed me back under. More pain. More lies – are they? – You’re not worth it. It’s hopeless. Your pain is too big, too much. Why did I trust? I knew better.
I want my body to stop hurting. I want my mind to function, whole. I want the promise, the voice to heal, and for the pain to matter.
But His thoughts and ways, though brutal, are better than mine.
So I lay the promise down. The pain, my mind, my heart, my voice – all – on the altar.
And I will set fire to the promises. Because they are not mine to fulfill.
And even if I spend the rest of my earthly minutes in pain, alone and silent, at His feet, then so be it. Though He slay me, yet will I trust. Is there another option?