I never imagined what life would be when I walked the aisle and accepted you as Lord. I never knew that I had such a great love and respect for you and no matter what happened to me, I’d be safe in your arms. I walked over a lot of ground and went through many things I would not have had to had I just leaned in a little closer, sought spiritual gifts sooner, if had just been more faithful and even more stubborn about my walk with you..
I tried not to let go of you, but the enemy appeared to have overpowered me. But I say appeared, because deep down, my spririt knew you loved me and were there for me no matter how many bitter and salty tears I wept, what my mind didn’t know was what my heart did. What my reasoning and perception didn’t get, the Holy Spirit had sealed.
It was a deep passionate love. You were writing my love story. I was the oppressed herione who waited for her Prince of Peace to show up on a cloud and wisk me to heaven. I had heard so much Rapture talk, I really didn’t expect to be an adult. I was counting on you. But you didn’t come.
I should have known better really, for your love was so deep, your sacrifice was so intense, that you would wait as late as you could to save every needful soul possible. I had tried to convince myself that because you were God and man, that the super heroic effort on the cross didn’t hurt you like a normal man, that could not have been farther from the truth.
I have wept over your sacrifice for me, so many times and in so much pain over so many years that you finally told me to stop carrying a wounded Christ, but to live under the shadow of the risen one. So I did. I began seeing things differently, understanding the pain and sorrow you endured, and how you remained silent before your accusers has never been something I have been able to master, I know because I am not you. Though I try to be and you want me to be, I am still just a girl with a lot of love, who still wears her heart on her sleeve even if it an eternal wedding gown or white robe of righteousness.
And that heart stays pierced and broken and bleeding, with your love, if I let it, but I can’t. I can’t do that and be the sound, whole, healed, woman of grace that you want me to be. Though I do for others, they are not always or truthfully, hardly ever, doing for me but to me. Is there no understanding of love and grace in hearts that beat so close to mine that they can not see the miraculous plan of God unfolding, that they limit the Almighty, who is able to do anything?
I don’t know why that is, but Lord, you’ve got me thinking. In a world that’s on the edge of eternity, is there hope for hurting people, you are about to reach your hand from heaven with an outpouring like never before, or will I slip away in the Rapture I longed for as a child, and return with you in your glory? Or even, both. Lord, you’ve got me thinking. Rebecca Jones