Surrender

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?

Advertisements

About stonescry

A survivor of sex trafficking, being healed by the grace of God.
Gallery | This entry was posted in Survivor Ramblings and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Surrender

  1. Kate says:

    You ARE worth it. It is NOT hopeless. Your pain is NOT too big or too much.

    And, not there really isn’t another option other than to trust. Surely we cannot save ourselves; He is our only hope. And He is trustworthy. And He makes all things beautiful in their time. Praying that time will be soon for you and that you’ll experience wholeness and healing.

  2. John 6:68

    sometimes it seems like a way other than surrender might work
    sometimes the world’s ways of greed and self-serving look ripe
    sometimes snatching the control of my own life looks like a more manageable path

    but it’s no use

    once we’ve known His sovereign love
    we know we have no choice but to stay in His arms

    after all, He holds the words of everlasting life

    … I’m choosing the hard but necessary path of surrender today too.

    Thank you for your courage. You’re so brave to me.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s