Today while at work I started thinking about some of the things in my life that are unsolved mysteries, and I am proud to say that I did not get anxious! I didn’t start worrying, I wasn’t fretting over the outcomes to be had, my mind wasn’t focusing on things that were out of my control. The change would be nice if it weren’t for how I was feeling.
My chest doesn’t feel like caving in, it feels like it’s holding itself up while a series of explosions go off on the inside. Inside the hollow my heart is hiding in the bleakly and depressingly bare topography, clinging to sanity with the hope that these explosions will stop at some point, that the pain is temporary and will produce a miracle, and above all its really, really hurt. Since it’s not usually in this situation, generally my little heart pick itself up, dusting off the rubble, holding itself up to look pain in the face and ask for it’s worst. But not this time. It feels like it’s been cut off from food, water, and help. Like it’s crying, bleeding out on the battle field and if it could move, it wouldn’t.
I’ve come to a spot in my life where I’m inconsolably and devastatingly unhappy. And I really do feel that my heart is this wounded soldier, not even caring anymore about the battle or the war or their outcomes, just about somehow giving in to this pain.
It’s not even relief that I want, it’s to give in. And that says something to me that I wish I didn’t have to hear.
Because I’m ornery. That means combative and stubborn. I don’t like being told what to do. I don’t like being told I’m wrong. I’m proud, I’m angry, I’m selfish, I’m ungrateful, I’m rude, I do stupid things to get attention, I doubt, I worry, I lust, I hurt people I love… I’m just so sinful.
But I’ve given over the condition of my heart to God, and he’s the one that’s brought me to this place of pain. What I need isn’t to escape but to embrace, to be reshaped and to have God, the Holy Spirit, and Christ working on my case.
“Behold, blessed is the one whom God reproves;
therefore despise not the discipline of the Almighty.
For he wounds, but he binds up;
he shatters, but his hands heal.” – Job 5:17-18
So while God keeps me alive, gives my heart strength to survive this process, Christ will be interceding for me, the same way he did in the garden.
“Sanctify them in the truth; your word is truth.” – John 17:7
And while God and Christ Jesus are working in these and so many awesome ways, the Holy Spirit will be with me, in me, and comforting and counseling my heart with words of truth.
“When the Spirit of truth comes, he will guide you into all the truth, for he will not speak on his own authority, but whatever he hears he will speak, and he will declare to you the things that are to come. He will glorify me, for he will take what is mine and declare it to you. All that the Father has is mine; therefore I said that he will take what is mine and declare it to you.” – John 16:13-15
The mystery and majesty of the Holy Trinity of Awesome makes my head spin, because I can see them each in different roles, yet I know and see that they are all one, shifting and merging. The most enormous comfort I can feel right now is that while my heart is in pain, it’s also in refuge.
For God alone, O my soul, wait in silence,
for my hope is from him.
He only is my rock and my salvation,
my fortress; I shall not be shaken.
On God rests my salvation and my glory;
my mighty rock, my refuge is God.
Trust in him at all times, O people;
pour out your heart before him;
God is a refuge for us.
The Lord knows exactly how hurt, how wounded, how self-destructive my heart is. In fact, he knows everything about me, and he still is chosing to take care of me, guard me from so much worse. I have and continue to hand myself over to the only one true God that it will ever know, the one that has proven himself over and again, and will continue to do so forever. Instead of living in the pain I’m going to live in the truth: My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever. (Psalm 73:26)