I’ve sat here for a few weeks now, inundated with memories I wished I could bury long ago. Feeling the familiar spiral of sanity gone wild. I am unsure of what comes next. Is this depression? If it is, it’s a new experience I’ve not encountered. Is this mania? No. There’s a calm within that counters that thought.
So what is this?
Confusion comes to mind, though that seems to simple. As I swing back and forth on the vines of time, my arms ache from the intuitive death grip. I’ve been here before. What’s important about that, is that I survived.
I’ve been a Christian for half my life now. When I say it this way, I feel a certain joyous song being written on my heart. When I consider most of my life was a tumultuous and unpredictable ride through bipolar land, I cringe. How did I manage to live in both of these worlds simultaneously? Under any other god, one would be evicted for the crimes of immorality I’ve committed.
But here is my God. Forgiving and merciful, patient and kind. He forgives the hearts of those who repent, commit to turn away, and follow Him. With no other requirement, this is accomplished by His amazing Grace.
In this freedom I have peacefully and humbly lived. Until now.
God has forgiven me. Yet here I sit with tears staining my cheeks as I realize I can’t forgive myself. I can’t release the guilt. I can’t understand his love for a sinner such as me. It’s almost as though I’m walking backwards through my own life, and picking up my own redemption pieces along the way.
I don’t know where to go from here. You see, I know how vast his forgiveness runs, I know the crimson blood turns all confessed sin to white beauty. Still, what I know in my heart has been unbearable to my heart.
Where do you go when the pieces in your hand do not fit together in a perfect tabletop portrait of love. Where do you turn when you feel this overwhelming shame and guilt blinding you from the vision of adoption you once saw for yourself? Where are the answers for a lost believer struggling to believe in her own walk with Jesus.
I have no direction here, so I choose to sit silently, alone. Contemplating the wall I’ve hit along my salvation journey. I know He will provide the answers. I believe He hears my cry. I know while I sit here in the quiet darkness, He will lead me into a deeper understanding than I can fathom.
When I have no desire for my broken self, he desires every piece. God knows their formation, he created every one. He will gently place each elaborate section back where it belongs. I will gain wisdom with each setting. I will forgive myself when they are made whole. In His time and by His mighty power.
He is the Creator of all things, even me.