Because I can't sleep...

I cried tonight, a good, healing cry.  The tears washed away so many negative and fallacious thoughts.  They washed away sorrow and loneliness.  They washed away brokenness.  They brought restoration and peace.  They brought a headache and sleeplessness, but that is okay too.  I am going to be okay.  The boys are still hanging in the balance between being broken by their father and succumbing to his character.  This breaks my heart, but even now, I have to trust that they will be okay one day too.  I feel that Jesus is near.  He has been rebuking me today.  His discipline brings peace because I know that He has not left me to myself.  With literal soap in my eye and tears pouring out of it to wash away all that does not belong, I realize that the emotional tears did the same thing.  This semester has brought a plethora of tears.  I have ruminated relentlessly.  I have been given the task of writing my life story for multiple assignments for school and therapy and court.  I have been tucked away in this little haven and given the task of finally pouring it all out.  After so many years of having to be strong, so many years of blocking out the truth and the pain, I needed to shatter and let it all come crashing down.  It makes me think of how a doctor has to rebreak a bone in order for it to heal.  God is rebreaking all of my old wounds, just to allow them to heal properly.   Hope.  It is such a powerful word.  Peace that surpasses all understanding is only possible in Jesus.  He is the spring of hope.  There have been moments when hope seemed so far away, as did Jesus, but I guess that is part of the breaking process.  I had to allow myself to feel the hurt and brokenness, the numbness and anger, the self-pity and fear.  All of it had to be absorbed in order to let it all go.  Maybe that is why my boys had to spend so much time with their father without me there to protect them, to purloin the punishment for his existence.  They need me strong.  They need a rock on which they can stand until they are ready to stand on the Solid Rock.  Lacey Bug strolls through my mind.  Long nights of angry coworkers and even angrier customers brought her low on many occasions.  I would always encourage her by saying, “Rock solid, Lacey Bug, rock solid, standing on the Solid Rock!”  It was so much easier when I felt rock solid.  I felt imperishable then.  I was strong and capable even in the midst of chaos.  That was before the PTSD had a chance to come roaring through my mind, leaving a wake of devastation in its path.  Now, I am thankful just to complete an assignment or thought.  My mind has broken.  It was all too much this time.  I know that God is healing me, but this inability to communicate or push through the chaos, or even to get through a single meeting is terrifying.  I have retreated.  I have crawled in an abyss where only Jesus can navigate.  Sovereignly, He has brought me low in order to raise me up.  This thought takes me to the lyrics, “You raise me up so I can stand on mountains.  You raise me up to walk on stormy seas.  I am strong when I am on your shoulders.  You raise me up to more than I can be.”  This semester, I have spent more time at the foot of the cross or prostrate upon the steps before the throne than I have spent on His shoulders.  That is okay too.  Every moment, every heartache, every fear, every ounce of emptiness brings me closer to who He created me to be, closer to my purpose on this earth, and closer to my true home.  This is the embodiment of my hope.  To cross the Jordan, to encroach upon the gates of Heaven, to enter his courts, to sit at the table, to feel His embrace, to rest my head in His lap as He says, “Well done, my good and faithful servant.”  Not because I have been faithful, but because He has been faithful for me, shielding me from all that I deserve, He is my righteousness that makes my hope possible.  Hope.