The steps go up and away from me. I wish I could follow them up but I don’t know how. I can see them clearly. They are right in front of me. If only I were strong enough to reach out and shatter the space between them and me. The only thing between us is the ceiling made of glass.
Glass is a wonderful, horrible thing. It lets you see everything beyond you and above you. But it doesn’t let you touch any of it. I wish I were strong enough to break the glass. To take the stairs. To touch the beauty. There must be a way to grab hold of what is right in front of me. If only I could live outside the glass.
I don’t have an ax to shatter this glass. Maybe its better that I don’t because then I can’t kill myself with falling glass. All I have is a thumbtack. I’m not very strong and I can’t grab onto the whole pane. But maybe it will be enough. Maybe one day at a time and one small thumbtack will be enough to destroy this glass box.
I call the thumbtack hope. It is the truth that He won’t let me go. It is enough.
At the altar of lament I found that sadness is a balm for a weary heart. It’s like warm water on achy joints.
There’s a comforting feeling when you actually come to the place of lament. I tried for months and couldn’t come because I still hadn’t given up my wishes and what I wanted to have as my reality.
But one night after months of emptiness and filling the voids in my life with meaningless things I sobbed my heart out because suddenly I saw reality and that my life is exactly what I’m experiencing and that a lot of the things I’m wanting are out of my grasp, Maybe not forever but for now. I saw that I’m completely at the mercy of the Almighty and that’s a reality I spent years running from. But as I cried I prayed to God and told him how I felt about life and him and all the expectations I felt from him.
I met God that night in a real way. He didn’t say anything but he soothed me with his love and I knew he was for me. For weeks after, tears were always right under the surface and I was simply sad. Not angry or resentful or bitter, just sad.
And then one day I discovered that God gave me joy and nothing else had even changed, my life was still the same.
But I learned a lot at the altar of lament.
Don’t become one with your sadness.
Sadness is real and necessary.
It refines you, and washes the wounds in the deepest parts of your heart.
When you embrace sadness you accept reality and that’s when healing can start.
Sadness is meant for seasons not lifetimes. Release it, watch it float away like a helium balloon. Watch it till it disappears on the horizon and welcome in hope. Changes are in the air.
You, dear brave heart are loved and cherished by the Heavenly Father. You have a bright future ahead.
I looked at you and I saw myself. I saw your beauty and I saw my flaws, I saw your weakness and I saw my strength. I smiled at you but I guarded my heart so you couldn’t hurt me and so you couldn’t see that I’m not perfect. I hugged you but held you at arms length ready to turn and run because you could prove to be more skillful, more beautiful, more valuable than me.
I saw you as a rival not a sister.
But then you proved to be a friend, you saw my walls and you didn’t let them stop you, you kept pursuing me and showing me that though I’m flawed I’m also beautiful, you taught me how to dance to the rhythm of my own heartbeat and you showed me how to be my own kind of beautiful.
I saw you as a rival, you saw me as a friend. You believed in me when I was at the end of my rope, you told me that I am strong and capable and that my dreams are my compass for the life our Father planned long ago for me.
I am seeing in you what you saw in me all along. We are a team, and when we join hands and walk together with our Father God we are unstoppable.
It’s not about trophies and medals and being the most attractive or the strongest. We are sisters with separate identities and individual callings and giftings that blend beautifully when we are a team.
I love you sister, thank you for loving me even at my worst
So many good things. Things that are hidden deep in your soul. Things hidden so deep you can’t even see them and you certainly can’t believe them. All the bad feelings, all the lies have smothered the truth. Shame has convinced you that you aren’t valuable. Rejection has told you that you are not worth loving. Depression sucks away the dreams. It has you convinced that you are nothing more than a failure. Just one big mistake.
You can’t see what I see when I look at you. You see bad. I see good. Maybe on the surface I can see the bad, but your heart is good. I want to see the good things about you. I want to find the true you. The one God created and called good. I wish you could see you for who you really are. You would be beautiful. You would be unstoppable. You would be free.
We sit in your church pews every Sunday convinced that we are a misfit. We believe we’ve been rejected by God and are living on death row. We don’t want to hear the latest news on abortion and divorce rates or your favorite rant on same sex marriage. We all know the Bible is clear, it’s sin and God hates it.
He will punish it.
We’ve sat in your office and told you our worst fears, that God has signed us off as unpardoned and we’ve tried to accept your reassurances but as hard as we both tried, we’re still here.
Some of us have turned away and left because the pain was unbearable then got written off as a rebel or an airhead.
No one is just a rebel. There’s an aching and lonely heart inside that person and you can glimpse it when you look in their eyes.
We are lonely and afraid and some of us have gone silent, pretending we now believe but we don’t.
Not everything is as it seems, speak to your people. We’re not the heathens of the land, we’re the children of God. We need to be fathered and cared for. We need training and discipleship not another history lesson or the latest doom and gloom.
There is no quick fix as much as we both wish there was but there is time, love, and relationship. That’s what we all need.
I’m lonely and afraid, not that rebelious girl who wears tight clothes and likes to flirt, or the quiet man who has a porn addiction, or the depressed mother whose children are loud and unkempt, or that perfect church girl who does everything right.