Who am I?
Who am I with the graveclothes off? When I am unwrapped from the weight of analyzing everything and paralyzed by the fear of not doing the right thing, choosing wrong?
What puts a fire in my bones that cannot be quenched, the world and people and perspective through my heart’s eyes that set me aflame so I am finally ignited with the wonder God originally instilled in my secret space?
Who do I want to be? Who has He created me to be, uniquely and unapologetically?
These questions come to me smooth and true. I can trust them.
They float in, a breeze to my brain, but these are good. Rather than the hounding have-to-know of my law-locked head, these are generous and gentle, ribbons loosening the knots that knead and keep my head detached from heart. These questions float through the river of my soul, let the currents take them to the lush, shady stream where my most inner being lounges at its shore, safe to share my needs, my innate sense that there is more to come in the heaven-to-earth way I’m wired. Here I am given permission to explore the caverns of connection that drive me to beautifully unfold like a midnight jasmine in sweet air.
I have not risked this much in a long time, exposing my heart’s desires. Thinking accurately of myself in honest assessment, rather than stuffing down my longings, my talents, my treasures, in dark, dry places where they have slowly suffocated, deteriorated down to bones of dust.
But I have been brittle and unstable, a fight from feelings suppressed, when they were never meant to be hidden in the first place. Perhaps God has brought me to the point of soul starvation to strip away the falsities and leave me no choice but to fight for breath, for the saturation of my heart. Where I have to hound out for my needs, bellow from the belly of want and recognize that this is an emergency, a matter of life and death.
It is my heart on the line, it is my life that lays suspended, sputtering, longing to cling to the smallest shaft of light that brings relief, revives.
Blaise Pascal said it right when he told us that the heart has reasons which reason knows nothing of.
Sometimes, our subconscious speaks the truth we are too afraid to tell ourselves. Sometimes, our discomfort and deadness is really our body’s reaction to save us. God at times chooses the chisel to break off the bad, flush out the lumps and stone to flesh our true design.
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