Like Trying to Wipe Off the Warmth of the Sun
This year has not been one for smashing records of victorious Christian living.
Not for me anyway.
I have found myself surrounded by a deepening gray fog.
At times anyway.
And sinking in the goopy mire of self-talk, self-help, self-interest.
My defunct self-self.
The battlefield of my mind is the horizon that stretches before me. As far as the east is from the west.
Seems that big anyway.
I lost my dad-in-law. And at the time it did not matter to me where his soul went because at least his earthly pain was finally over.
Finally over.
That's how I felt at the time, anyway.
A very dear friend confessed deep skepticisms about the truth of Scripture. The stuff that is the very foundation of my faith. I have been rocked and shaken.
Wandering for a year in a fog that occasionally seems to lift.
A fair bit, anyway.
--------------------
Standing on the battleground as the fog rolls in.
I will not be so noble as to pretend I don't want to be rescued.
I know I am weak for this.
--------------------
But there is a Bright Light. He burns of his own accord and does not wait for me to acknowledge Him before he radiates in my circumstance.
He is radiating.
He is bioluminescence.
He is burning off the fog.
He is lighting this battlefield in the blazed whiteness of day.
He is burning the image of Himself upon my retinas- so that He is the thing I see no matter where I cast my gaze.
He is drying the miry clay until it cracks and peels and blows into fine granules upon the wind.
So even though the year has found me cold, mired, bewildered and beleaguered...
At times...
Denying the truth of this Bright Light would be like trying to wipe off the warmth of the sun.
--------------------
Press play on the MP3 player to hear my not-so-traditional Christmas song offering: Never Alone, Barlow Girl
Not for me anyway.
I have found myself surrounded by a deepening gray fog.
At times anyway.
And sinking in the goopy mire of self-talk, self-help, self-interest.
My defunct self-self.
The battlefield of my mind is the horizon that stretches before me. As far as the east is from the west.
Seems that big anyway.
I lost my dad-in-law. And at the time it did not matter to me where his soul went because at least his earthly pain was finally over.
Finally over.
That's how I felt at the time, anyway.
A very dear friend confessed deep skepticisms about the truth of Scripture. The stuff that is the very foundation of my faith. I have been rocked and shaken.
Wandering for a year in a fog that occasionally seems to lift.
A fair bit, anyway.
--------------------
Standing on the battleground as the fog rolls in.
I will not be so noble as to pretend I don't want to be rescued.
I know I am weak for this.
--------------------
But there is a Bright Light. He burns of his own accord and does not wait for me to acknowledge Him before he radiates in my circumstance.
He is radiating.
He is bioluminescence.
He is burning off the fog.
He is lighting this battlefield in the blazed whiteness of day.
He is burning the image of Himself upon my retinas- so that He is the thing I see no matter where I cast my gaze.
He is drying the miry clay until it cracks and peels and blows into fine granules upon the wind.
So even though the year has found me cold, mired, bewildered and beleaguered...
At times...
Denying the truth of this Bright Light would be like trying to wipe off the warmth of the sun.
--------------------
Press play on the MP3 player to hear my not-so-traditional Christmas song offering: Never Alone, Barlow Girl
Labels: Christmas, o come to me Emmanuel, SoulPerSuit
paper lantern of the day Wednesday, December 17, 2008
11 Comments:
You have left me weeping. Your thoughts give dignity to the function of words. That is, if your words could speak, I think they would say "This is what I was made for."
Erin - you have such a gift with words. What you wrote has helped me to understand what you've gone through this year...and helped put into words what I have so often felt myself this year. Thank you for your gift.
What a year for you...I'm so glad you can still see Him.
Thanks, Erin.
Mmm. Honest. Beautiful. Thank you.
We wait.
Together, we wait.
An active waiting.
Sandi,
You're kind. Sometimes words and I can get along. Sometimes NOT. ;)
NikonGirl,
I know you're here with me- seeking- waiting- clinging- hopeful. The victory in life is that Christ makes us able to seek, wait, cling, hope. We're already victors.
Sarah,
I see Him all over the place. Sometimes it's blinding, isn't it?
Greta,
De nada. How's your Ellie? :)
Jeanne,
I know you have been here before too. Your faith encourages me.
Heather,
Waiting together with you is a pleasure for me. Active waiting that involves rockin' da houze with our laments and praises makes it even better.
This is a wonderful community for me, ya'll.
Hi Erin,
I read this post a couple days ago and couldn't find words to respond. I still don't have much in the words department, but I wanted to tell you that this moved me so much for you. I'm sorry for all the pain and sadness and questions and loneliness. I'm thankful He is drawing you to Him so that you're unable to escape His grasp and His presence. But I'm still sorry for the sadness. Been praying for you since you shared this.
Love,
Christianne
Christianne,
Do you ever sit and re-read your blog posts over and over and over again? Thinking about what your heart just threw on the screen- whether your fingers could adequately bring expression or not? Am I the only one who does that?
One thing that attracts me to this song is how the chorus seems to fairly wrench itself out of the guts of the instruments. To me, it sounds so much like a person in agony.
I'm actually thinking now about the nation of Israel waiting so very long for Yahweh's Promise to arrive. Waiting. Wrenching. Wondering if they had been forgotten. Agonized waiting.
Imagine when The Bright Light finally appeared.
Mmmmmm. Imagine!
(Thoughts like this make it a very good Christmas, indeed.)
My kids are about to wander in and ask why I'm crying. Hope does that to me. I mourn the need for it, because having hope means I'm suffering through something--a loss, a longing, a waiting, whatever. Yet having hope is what brings me out of that pit, it is why my soul can surge beyond my circumstance. Thank you for "throwing your heart" onto the screen--it has made me worship our Lord once again, for He is Our Hope.
Erin~
I think of you often. Interesting to read your heart. I have had a similar year...Taking every thought captive and trusting in God even when I could not feel Him. I think He has taken me apart to put me back together again. New. Different. Changed...deeply. Still on the journey.
God IS Faithful!
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