I have debated about whether or not to post this because it has some language in it and it's not pretty, but I feel led to share it. The reason why is because God has brought nothing but good out of my willingness to tell my story, and this is an important part. It is a glimpse of my struggle out of darkness, during the times when I longed for the security of Egypt. I knew my old lifestyle was slavery, but at least I was familiar with it. Please know this one is a little rough, and understand when reading it that there was a battle waging for my heart.
Just a little over 2 years ago, on Sept 8th, 2009, I wrote this:
It's raining right now...coming down in droves, but deceptively quiet.
I'm losing you. Losing this battle. Feeling ashamed, feeling alive, feeling that tainted satisfaction of letting myself go, feeling the vague possibility of being loved. That's all it is, really. Just a need to be loved. And wanting to feel something real, something tangible to satiate. I need to be "taken care of" in every sense of that phrase. It's been a long time. I would almost settle for a meaningless fuck if it meant someone wanted to touch me. I'm feeling pretty damn undesirable right now.
I have stopped resisting the thoughts. They run rampant...with each fall it's harder and harder to pick myself up again. Part of me burns with anger at the seemingly insurmountable task of purity for you. Another part of me could just throw my head back and laugh. Another part of me pleads with you so desparately...can't I just give in and quit fighting this? Throw in this towel and say fuck it? Cursed nature...or nurture...or whatever the hell they want to attribute it to these days. I'm too old to be having an identity crisis. Maybe too old to change the core of who I am and make it stick. I'm sick of being good. I want something raw and carnal. Temptation is screaming at me from all directions, and whispering in my ear at night.
I swing from one end of the pendulum to the other. One minute I am on fire for you, the next I'm as far away as I can possibly stand. I know you will never leave me or forsake me, but I am the one who puts the distance there. I turn away from You. I don't want to feel you...I don't want to hear you, or come to you. Tired of being Miss Polly Pure, tired of feeling like I have to hide who I've been, and consequently, who I am. Tired of polarizing and being an enigma. Tired of restraining myself when I want to say fuck.
I'm glad not many people from church are on here, and I doubt the ones that are would read this. Unlike FB, my mom is not on here, thank God. Anyone who is on here and does read this, whom I suspect are few and far between, here you go. Hope you like this extra special glimpse into my hidden, conflicted side. I will probably delete this so read up while you can.
Oh God, please help me. The rain is coming down louder now. How ironic is that?
Then, two days later, on Sept 10th, 2009, I wrote:
I don't know why, so I will choose to believe your ways are higher than mine. I don't know when, so I will wait on you, Lord, more than watchmen wait for morning. I don't know how, so I will trust in you with all my heart, acknowledge you in all my ways, and lean not on my own understanding.
You are the great physician, binding up the wounds of the brokenhearted. You are slow to anger and abounding in love. You are sovereign over all my sorrow. You are the healer, redeemer, and deliverer. You are the light at the end of my tunnel, my hope, and my savior.
Lord, have mercy on me. Clean me with hyssop, and I will be clean. Wash me, and I will be whiter than snow. Refine me. Create in me a pure heart, and renew a steadfast spirit within me.
Nothing is impossible for you. I will hold fast to that.
Glory be to God for sustaining me throughout the climb out of the pit. The identity crisis and war in my heart was one of the darkest and most awful times of my life, but it was also the most beautiful because His light kept shining through. He kept showing me I could trust Him. He was my hope and my light at the end of the tunnel. He lifted my heart. And I can say this with definity, it certainly was not my own strength that kept pushing me forward. He carried me.
Sometimes, I just look to the sky and think how thankful I am that I let Him. I cry tears of joy, gazing up and thinking, "We're a team, You and me...but mostly You." ^_^
Now, I am a married woman. A HAPPILY married woman who is totally in love with her husband. Having the time of her life reveling in this blessing from God. For the first time, I feel that my love is pure and healthy and true, and orchestrated by Him. Praise God for this miraculous thing. Brings me to tears EVERY time I think about it.
When I think of what's next, I pray I don't get boring. I fear that with this lifelong struggle being over, I won't have any more huge steps of faith to take and I will just get complacent. But I am praying that He will bring them. I am praying He will continue to call me to walk BIG. He has proved Himself to me so faithfully that I almost want him to call me to do something I am afraid of. I want to be bold and stout of heart, and never lose this fire for Him.