Colliding With The Healer

Breathe
Sometimes I feel it’s all that I can do
Pain so deep that I can hardly move
Just keep my eyes completely fixed on You
Lord take hold and pull me through

So here I am
What’s left of me
Where glory meets my suffering

I’m alive
Even though a part of me has died
You take my heart and breathe it back to life
I’ve fallen into your arms open wide
When the hurt and the healer collide

Yep, that sums it up.  I'm not sure I can move, but the clock ticks, the day beckons.  Suffering can wait.  This song (The Hurt and the Healer) by Mercy Me was the alarm's soundtrack that started my day.  In spite of it all it turned out to be a fairly decent day, but that's because I'm a runner...

I'm not sure why I insist on doing everything the hard way, but tonight, here I am again.  The kids are having sleep-overs, my friends are busy, my phone is nearly dead... (I've mentioned that solitude isn't my strength, right?)  As long have I have an ounce of energy in me, and there's something uncomfortable or painful to address in the depths of me, I have the tendency to evade, run, distract, invest in anything or anyone but that topic. Finally, at the end of a grueling week, I've exhausted myself to the point of the inability to run away from myself mentally.  As usual, I can't sleep.  I'll write.

Wednesday sucked.  No, you don't understand, it SUCKED.  The night before was full of dreams again.  Not just dreams, but the kind that I can't escape.  The informative kind, I guess.  I went to work a little "off".  (Those of you who are reading this that also sat in my chair yesterday, you are incredibly gracious, I love you beyond explanation.)

The Crucible Summer is grinding on.  Brutal decisions to be made with no good choices and the consequences falling only to me, nagging health concerns, excruciating personal losses, incredible physical demands, clients to fire, "friends" I can't trust anymore,  parenting pressure, people I love with even greater needs than  mine, perfectionism left unchecked, spiritual and emotional frustrations, questions with no satisfying answers...  I want my bed.  Actually no, there's no air conditioning, therefore no sleep, besides, I'm starting to dread the randomly specific dreams... I want a coma.  Wait, aren't those expensive?

I got to work early and planned to fortify my emotions by busying myself.  My day wasn't going to end officially for 10 more hours and I needed to pull Professional Collene up by the boot straps.  Unfortunately  for Professional Collene (although, I really am very fortunate to have her), I was sweetly greeted with a hug by one of my co-workers.  Great, now we're going to need a mop to sop up the tears and possibly a spatula to re-Spackle my make-up back on.  I did not wear the water-proof mascara and I was not yet steeled enough for a hug.  I am no longer Professional Collene.

The day started sorta on time, although less glamorously than I had hoped.  Somehow by the second client, I was already 20 minutes behind,  Then the third arrived a half hour late.  Ummmmmmm, that actually almost works now though, if I skip lunch she can process while I do #4...  I could still get out of here by 8:00.  Will Wednesday ever end?

Meanwhile, I had broken my resolve.  I sent a text.  Okay, more than one... The dreams and restlessness were too real.  The recipient of the texts responded, confirming one of the dreams.  Weird, I know.  This is starting to be a pattern with that specific friend.  Our friendship has always had a connection unlike any I've ever known.  Still, I can't seem to communicate everything I feel I need to.  What's the point?  That friend is not a part of my life anymore.  Doesn't want to be again.  My words would mean nothing at this point and probably drive a wedge between us further.  Why does this strange connection persist?

My exhaustion, fear, sadness, pressures of the day and life sat heavily on my shoulders as I escaped work, (miraculously on time, I should add) and fled to one of my favorite places after work.  One of most trusted friends, my fake sister-in-law, joined me on the patio.  We guzzled iced tea in silence for awhile.  My tears streaming, her heart catching each tear as she waited for me to talk.  What I love about her is that she is a digger.  She is not afraid to go deeper than the words I'm saying and expose the heart of why I'm saying them.  This is important because we tend to be our own worst enemies when it comes to truth...

Why is my heart broken?  No really WHY?  What is it that I'm hanging on to that won't heal? If God is real and his words are true then The LORD is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit (Psalms 34:18) and He heals the brokenhearted and  binds up their wounds (Psalm 147:3), are not cute little bookmark phrases.

Again, her probing questions reveal an area of  distrust still in me.  Is God good?  Yes, always, duh.  He may have forgotten me though.  Does God hear our prayers and promise to give us the desires of our heart when we seek Him and ask? Yes, I can show you a million examples in scripture and life- your life that is, not mine. Does God love you?  Yes, in the way a parent lovingly cares for the neighbor girl that attends a sleep-over with their daughter all weekend... but then I'll have to pack up my pillow and leave, I'm sure of it...

We sat there until after dark hashing through example after example of God's loving, faithfulness to me in the last year, six months, 1 month.  Okay, now I see... but there is still an area or two where healing hasn't begun.  Somehow the project seems bigger than all the others, more impossible to reach into, even by God.

Here's what I know:  1. I can't heal myself.  2.  He says he can.  I guess I only have a plan A here because the only thing left in my mind to say tonight is this:  He who began a good work in me will be faithful to complete it...

Goodnight.

Our view from the patio Wednesday night.