Light Slowly Breaking Through Clouds

I love reading the Psalms. They are so authentic - so true to the human experience. They are songs and poems and letters carving out human frustrations, fears, sorrows, guilt, laments, anger, jealousy and also hope, faith, joy, victory, exuberance. They encompass the cries of the soul, and by reading these words - I then have the confidence to express my sentiments in their genuine form before the Living God.

And I love reading about Jesus. He is so authentic - he has truly lived the human experience. He understands loneliness, rejection, heartache, tiredness, overwhelmedness and pain and he has also known unconditional love, laughter, peace, friendship, and triumph. It is because of Jesus - my brother and Lord - that I am given access to the freedom of being my real self with God the Father.

This has been the most difficult season of my life. The past three-four months have stretched me, challenged me, hurt me, enraged me, and have caused resounding fear - a fear and a sense of anxiety that I cannot shake. I have cried myself to sleep because so many mountains seem too impossible to climb, so many words seem to cut too deep heal, so many realities of my own weaknesses seem to oppressive to overcome. It has been incredibly difficult, and many times it has felt hopeless - if you have read any of my past entries, hopelessness is a common theme.

I feel like I am in the middle of Psalm - something that might go like "my tears are my food" and "nightly I cry out to You in my anguish."

All this suffering has me wondering who God really is. It has me questioning where He is in this pain. I wonder if He will save me - if He can provide - I wonder if He can overcome my weakness and make a way to freedom even though the chains are so tightly wrapped around my arms and neck. I sometimes go from wondering if He can do these things to if He will do them… or even wants to do them. This road of suffering is also a road leading straight to the heart of God - everyday my emotional and spiritual turmoil has me on my knees, begging God to reveal Himself. I want to comprehend You, God - I want to really know You. It's really the most authentic and honest I have ever been before God, and it is beautiful.

And all this suffering also has me wondering who I am. The emptiness and hollowness that this pain and fear has caused has allowed for more space - more space for God to enter in and awaken the woman that has remained hidden for so many years. He has been calling me forth, asking me to feel what I am really feeling and to be vulnerable before Him. Truly this Immanuel, this God with me,  has invited me to accept, to love, and to cherish the woman He designed in love even before I was conceived. I am discovering my strength, my resilience, my creativity, and my desire to live adventurously as each hardship breaks down another piece of the facade-of-self I have so desperately clung to. Suffering is restoring to me the joy of my true self. And even though it is painful, it is also beautiful.

And each day as I traverse this Psalm of lament and suffering, another line breaks through: "How precious is Your steadfast love, O God!" "I will bless the Lord at all times, His praise shall continually be in my mouth."

"You have turned my mourning into dancing!"