this fleeting moment

Events take place in our lives that break us. For me, these events come in all shapes and sizes and come via various venues. I FEEL a lot. My emotions run high. Most of the time they are under control, but they are always high. My spectrum doesn't really contain happy or sad or mad, it's more like elated or devastated or furiously bitter. I know this is not always healthy, so to deflate some of my emotions that are beginning to interfere with life, I write. Things like the Colorado shooting get to me. Things like this blog post about the gutwrenching poverty of Haiti and our response get to me. When people in my life do things that I never expected and that cut my heart like a knife, it gets to me. Watching someone else suffer in any fashion gets to me. Thinking of the ladies I love so much in Haiti and not knowing when I will see them again gets to me. And sometimes, these things don't just get to me, they get the better of me. 

I wonder if I'm not the only one. If possibly, some of you feel these same things and don't know how to sort it all out. Today I wanted to share with you a journal entry in which I finally was able to put my emotions at their absolute highest into words. Praying that it blesses you in some way, even if it only reminds you that you are not alone.

"No matter what I do, no matter how purposefully I attempt to occupy my mind, the thoughts resurface. The anger and bitterness creep in, it feels as if steam will pour from my ears and if I open my mouth I will either vomit or scream. And I can feel it, my heart hardening. The wall I am putting up. It's like I'm building it with one hand and tearing it down with the other. I don't want to create such a terribly destructive and defiant thing (and I know a wall is nothing more than this, from previous experience), but part of me feels it is the only way to be safe. I feel like I will never be able to completely rest again, like I will always need to sleep with one eye open, guarding myself against the mean and ugly and terribly hurtful things in this world. I want to scream and punch and kick, and then all I can do is crumple into a defeated pile on my bed and curl up as tight as I can and hope the mattress will open and swallow me in to a deep dark place where there is no one and nothing, so I can relax my grip on my heart, although I'm certain I would still be too afraid to ever let it go completely.

Are these thoughts going to plague my mind forever? Will I ever feel safe and non threatened and possibly decide that not EVERYONE is out to break me? Is it even possible for me to get back to that place again?

I want to cry out to Jesus, to cry out to Him who I KNOW is Ultimate Healer and Provider and who is ALL I need, if I let Him be. But when I open my mouth all that comes out is a loud and ugly and painful, "WHY??" Haven't I been obedient? Haven't I done my best? Aren't you my Father who loves me? Then where are You?? And why did You let this happen?

And I know the answer. It's because God will receive glory from this, somehow, someway. The Kingdom will be furthered, even if only by changes in my own heart. And I KNOW this is the Truth. But somehow, when I am crumpled in a pile of tears and running mascara, this isn't enough for me. This doesn't seem a great enough cause for the pain that is gnawing at me from the inside out all day and all night.

And then I gasp and I feel overwhelmed with fear and shame... Who am I that I should question the works of the Almighty God? Who do I think I am? This is not about me. Clearly, I've lost sight of that. So I lay still, and once the sobbing subsides and my breathing evens out, I whisper to myself "This isn't about you." And I know this is Truth. And it is enough, for this fleeting moment when I capture the meaning of life and the Sovereignty of God and the Peace of Hope in Him... until my flesh takes over and again I let tears fall and I'm overcome by anger, and my heart sits waiting for my flesh to let it be still and Trust and Hope again."