Words tumble from my heart like dozens of Lego pieces. Some are red with anger, some orange with distrust and all too many are black with despair. As I ponder over the past year, emotions spill out with a loud cacophony, jumbled and disjointed, none of which seem to fit together.
The pieces are me, and I am the pieces. Fragmented and divided, they clamor of weakness and chaos, without any future of usefulness. I am sad, discouraged, and sinking toward hopelessness.
From the abyss, I remember a distant promise of hope. I once believed. I once felt strong. I once knew a purpose in life.
I’ve forgotten that I have a Builder, the One Who formed me within my mother’s womb. He sees all, whether darkness or light. He promised to guide me along every pathway and detour actively.
Will I believe that He is still hemming in before and behind? Will I have an awareness of His touch again? Am I even worth a reset? A Divine Touch?
While I breathe, my heart cries a prayer of desperation. I know to do nothing but wait.
As always, He reaches into my brokenness, non-plussed by my melancholia and fear. I hear a whisper, and recognize the voice, His Voice, gently, quietly, calling me near. It often takes the silence of the shadows to hear clearly. His eyes adjust to my darkness; mine adjust to His light. He picks up a piece of my life and turns it over in His Hand.
“You are stronger than you think, you know.”
He sorts through my helplessness, revealing that my past isn’t only about brokenness. Past anxieties, now fitting together to form a triumphant resolve, no longer cause me pain. The fear and agony of years past are now the cornerstones on which to build today. I see where His Hand formed these into a firm foundation, a testimony to others who are experiencing their own grief.
So once again, I submit to the watchful eyes of the Builder. He has been thinking of me all along, planning how to assemble my brokenness for the maximum glory. I will look ahead with hope, not in me, but in the Hand, in Whom I rest.
“O Lord, Thou has searched me and known me. Thou understand my thoughts afar off. There is not a word on my tongue, but, lo, O Lord, Thou knowest it altogether. Thou hast laid Thine Hand upon me. If I ascend up into heaven, Thou art there; if I make my bed in hell, behold, Thou art there. If I take the wings of the morning, and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea, even there shall Thy Hand lead me, and Thy right Hand shall hold me. Yea, the darkness hideth not from thee; but the night shineth as the day: the darkness and the light are both alike to Thee. For Thou hast possessed my reins. Thine eyes did see my substance, yet being unperfect, and in Thy book, all my members were written. How precious also are Thy thoughts unto me, O God! how great is the sum of them!” (selections from Psalm 139 KJV).