Even writing hurts. This thing I sometimes love more than life…hurts.
I want to stop. To put it off. To wait until I can write about things that sparkle and bring light to your eyes. I want to wait until I can make you smile, make you laugh, make you remember why we’re even friends.
I don’t want to hurt. And I don’t want to be the girl who’s always hurting. And I don’t want to be the girl you roll your eyes at because she just. Won’t. Stop. Complaining.
I want God to give me shiny, happy words. Because I want to be shiny and happy.
But He’s called me to this: the right now…the ugly and real…the what-you-see-is-what-you-get.
And some days, I hate it. Today is one of those days…
Have you ever been desperate for God? To feel Him holding you, to know He sees you, to hear Him speak to you?
So desperate that if He were standing before you, you would climb into His lap, bury your trembling body between His shoulders and will Him to wrap you tightly in His arms?
But He’s not, is He? Standing before you, that is.
He’s not standing before me – not in a reach-out-and-touch-Him-with-my-hands kind of way. And some days, that’s the way I need Him.
Today. That’s the way I need Him today.
Sometimes we experience God’s embrace through the arms of another person, a hug, a squeeze of the hand. Or we see Him looking out at us through the eyes of a friend. Or we hear Him speaking to us on the lilt of their words.
Only I’m alone.
And even God’s word feels foreign to me. No. Rather, I feel foreign to God’s word. Impenetrable.