Be still.

I want to cry out “Jesus!” So ashamed. I want to make a move, in spite of my trepidation. I can’t. “Face your fears!”, but I recoil at the thought.

My lips become bone-dry at any attempt of prayer. Only lamentations manage to escape (muffled by a hand, of course).

Desperate to lay prostrate on my bedroom floor, but my body is rigid.

The words “Stand in awe, and sin not: commune with your own heart upon your bed, and be still. Selah.” haunt me. Be still, my dear. Be still.

Wrestle God. No. I wrestle myself. And I am winning…and losing this fight. Fatigued. Baggy eyes. No appetite, or I eat everything in sight. The burden of my heart, weighing me down.

Surrender.  The word I continue to hear as I determinedly hold on to my stubbornness. Fulness of joy, my foot. I have a rather mean mind, don’t you think?

My child, you haven’t spoken to me in weeks. Don’t be fearful. I long to hear your voice. I can’t. Or I won’t. Maybe it’s both.

I can only hear: “He doesn’t love you. He doesn’t want you.” I know it’s a lie, but I can’t help but wonder. Help my unbelief.

Advertisements

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