I'm reading Ann Voskamp's 1,000 Gifts this morning, just so desparately trying to see God in my mess. This line hit home: "I believe in the power of the pit."
Anger, stress, bitterness, rage, pride, offense, accusation, murder, hate, lies, and then the pit is ever so deepening within me some days. I used to be a prisoner to it. I knew the prince well. I guess I still do.
Jesus my friend wants me to lay aside old powers and cling to him. Will he not be enough? Is he not enough? He feels distant on cold Tuesdays with deadlines missed and old names like "failure, wretch, slacker, messy, disorganized, hopeless, weak" whispered into this frail human mind.
I need to taste God. I need his peace to overwhelm me. That he is generous towards me is so very hard to believe. I'm his delight, that's crazy right? But that he sees not just potential in me but his very own son. I am perfect to him, his perfect delight. That his heart that bled for me still bleeds with deep emotion towards me seems audacious, sacrilege. To good to really be true.
Who is this God of the half-hearted, the lazy, the tired, the weary, the worried, the anxious, the prideful, the boasting, the mean, the bitter, the cold, the resentful and the unforgiving? Is he not? Or dare I say he is, the great I AM. The presence, who by very solid as rock truth, defies all odds and lies, giving truth for lies, Christ for sin, love for loss, acceptance for rejection, peace for rebellion, and loves me, Philip. Truths so good they seem like lies.
He says my name. Oh do I dare believe he says it. I come running. My name means "lover of horses." I proclaim my hatred for horses and God laughs. He loves my jokes. He loves me. He rubs his hand through my rough unwashed hair. He stoops low, sniffing my head - relishing the smell of me. He whispers in my ears words of his joy over me, of his crazed attitude of righteousness covering all, his tears rolling down my cheeks as he kisses, tears that speak deeper to my pain than any I have ever wept.
That he can be this close seems far off. A pipe dream. But if he's not, I'll take these dreams over life.