jaded.

..."Have your actions shown love? well I don't really think so. I'm left blinded and battered on the floor. I thought you were good, I thought I could trust you. I'm deeply jaded, and I'm walking out that door..."

I'm left jaded. In all... I never thought I'd feel the sting of caring and trusting people too much. I've been blinded by the actions, because my heart always wants to see the good in everything.

To maybe a fraction of an understanding, I think I get what God means by acting as a jealous lover; our rejection of him when he pursues us, and constantly running away when all he wants to do is love us perfectly.

I'm hurt. And I can't believe I'm so trusting.

I may trust too easily
I may care too deeply
But never have I regretted loving the way I'm supposed to.

But I'm sorry you blinded me
Through everything I held so near.
I'm sorry I always saw the good in your heart.

You left me jaded once more.

roots.

"We are not necessarily doubting that God will do the best for us; we are wondering how painful the best will turn out to be." — C.S. Lewis

I really should not be blogging right now; instead I should be on my way to work; but the thoughts are itching and scratching at the surface...

I saw this quote from a friend, and I thought to myself...

"I have committed to myself in wanting what is best; God's best for my life. But it hadn't crossed my mind that it would have to be painful in the process."

Wow. How had that not crossed my mind?

Because right now... at times, it is so painful, and I wonder if the best really IS worth it... when, I don't even know what I'm waiting for.

I look at this current situation of my heart... and yes, it has taken my breath away too many times, I lost track. But it was all for bringing out the best in me; making me better in the long run. And it was painful. But it birthed something new, something fully alive.

So... was it worth it?

Yes.

I can look back to where I used to be, and think... "Wow. Look how far I have come! Look how my heart has changed."

And with that I should be saying, "the pain was worth it." But I sometimes want to forget the pain and think it was nothing at all.

And what I'm dealing with at this moment, I think to myself... "This is so hard. What am I waiting for? Everyone keeps telling me to not wait around for it to happen... don't let something else pass you by... I don't know if it's even worth it..."

But even so, with my heart in pain, I say... "This is it. This is what I have been waiting for. But, it's not mine yet. I have to wait. And that hurts. It is painful. But I am hopeful. I don't have any idea why, but I am. Am I foolish? Only time will tell. But I don't think so. Why I feel so strongly is beyond my comprehension at this point. I just have faith. And because I want the best, this will be one of the most painful experiences--because of the wait. More and more waiting. Hoping. Trusting. And with that, I could get tremendously hurt. But I have a stronger relationship with God than ever before. HE has captured my heart once again. I know he won't let me fall. He loves me. Beyond anything. Beyond reason. He didn't promise this life to be easy. But he is good. He is wild. He wants what is best for me, and it's going to be painful to get where I need to be. It has already been so. But he knows the desires of my heart. He knows the path on which I take I want to glorify him. He knows that I long for a husband. He knows. And since I want the best he has... this isn't going to be easy. Another is involved. And if he isn't complying, well, I think it will be even harder. Even longer the wait. Should I give up? Do I look foolish? Maybe to most. But there's just something that I can't look away from. There's just something there. And, it is going to be painful to watch it walk away from me time and time again. To have to wait for him to notice me. To have him see something worth pursuing. Sometimes, you don't see something that is right there in front of you because you aren't even looking. I know in some way, what it feels like to be that jilted lover, like God is to us. It hurts. It's painful. But the reward will come in the end."

... I've planted the seed. It's growing roots. Soon enough, it will bloom. And the pain it went through won't look so bad through the beauty it will reveal.

article:waiting

http://www.kyria.com/topics/spiritualformation/theologyspiritualissues/mind0415.html?start=3

...And as long as there's life in my heart, I know I can keep waiting and trusting and hoping for the day when God will bring answers to the deeper questions I'm wrestling with.

Learn to rest.

"Cease striving and know that I am God" (Psalm 46:10, NASB). I can't count how many times that verse has made me stop in my tracks and realize that all my hard work and all the self-help books in the world will never bring about the kind of lasting change I long to see in my life. And it takes God speaking those simple words for me to realize, again, that instead of laying out ten quick steps to becoming a godlier woman, instead of burdening me with more that I need to do, God is instead inviting me to rest. He's instead calling me into relationship with him, inviting me to get to know his heart and his character. He's instead speaking to me of his love, of his delight in me, of his desire to sit with me for awhile and talk.

I'm so good at letting the trap of busyness consume me, at working tirelessly at every area in my life that I'm not satisfied with. But it's only when I step back from all that hard work and finally rest that my thirsty soul is actually satisfied, and that peace and balance are restored to my striving, unrestful spirit.

"Cease striving and know that I am God." Okay, Jesus, I will.

Yes, the season of waiting is difficult. But our roots go down deep as we wait and trust and hope in God. So whether you're waiting for guidance in a major decision, or waiting for a broken heart to heal, or waiting for love, or waiting for a clear career path to unfold, know that Jesus longs to walk with you right here, right now.

"This resurrection life you received from God is not a timid, grave-tending life. It's adventurously expectant, greeting God with a child-like 'What's next, Papa?'" (Romans 8, The Message)

Expectant. Hopeful. Confident. Now that's what I want to be known for in my season of waiting.

the waking bloom: waiting in stillness

Progress.

I was reminded tonight of the "waking bloom" inside of me.

He has made everything beautiful in its time.- Ecc. 3:11

In order to find the beauty, you must let life happen; you can't make it happen. You'll miss the point in waiting.

my bloom is being cultivated.

it's growing, yes.

it's also dying from its old ways.

so the new can transform beneath.

it's all about transformation.

and that takes time.

we can't rush the process.

if we do, we won't be ready.

I'm not ready yet.

I opened the door to my waiting period.

I planted the seeds to grow.

Now I'm waiting.

I've only just begun.

I'm discovering. It's a wintery season. But I take heart.

Because I know spring will soon come.

I must wait it out.

And when the right time comes.

...it will spring forth new life.

A transformation into something beautiful.

and it was all in its time.

I can't wait.

But I can.

I'm waiting for the best...

...for the best is yet to come.

"Something to be excited for... we will hopefully all wake up and change; ready to fly away upon release." -him

"Yes, I like that. It makes me excited..."-Me

"The waking bloom."- him

"You remembered..."-Me

...many waters cannot quench the love I have for you.

never forget.

the long way around

I love books.

I love the time I actually have TO read them.

Well, ...maybe it's more like... I should be doing other things with my time,

but... I feel this is necessary.

And it will only improve my time when I have it.

I hope.

I finally picked up "Sacred Romance" by Eldredge. I let out a quiet "yay" in the library at school when I found it. I finished reading "Waking the Dead" last week. I think I've read all of his books. Oh, I also read "Epic" in one sitting by him, haha. I love it.

So, I have yet to start that one, but I randomly, or as I like to say... not-so-randomly found this book called "When the Heart Waits," by Sue Kidd. Classic. Now ya wonder why THAT one stuck out to me? ha ha.

I love it already.

She writes about her mid-life crisis, but it's no different than the period I'm in now.

She realized God was showing her that she needed to be still in her waiting.

That by building her 'cocoon,' something beautiful and wonderful will form underneath.

From the outside perspective, you can't see what's happening inside.

But you're conscious of it. You are aware.

But you have to be patient.

You have to wait.

You have to be still.

Because when the right time comes, a beautiful butterfly will transform.

It will spread its wings.

It will fly.

p20. "God is offering an invitation. A call to waiting. A call to the mysteries of the cocoon. I discovered that in the spiritual life, the long way around is the saving way. It isn't the quick and easy religion we're accustomed to. It's deep and difficult-- a way that leads into the vortex of the soul where we touch God's transformative powers. But we have to be patient. We have to let go and tap our creative stillness. Most of all, we have to trust that our scarred hearts really do have wings."

p43. "To create newness you have to cover the soul and let grace rise. You must come to the place where there's nothing to do but brood, as God brooded over the deep, and pray and be still and trust that the holiness that ferments the galaxies is working in you too. Only wait...

And somehow the transformation you knew would never come, that impossible plumping of fresh life and revelation, does come. It manifests itself in unseen slowness. So it would happen to me and so it will happen to all who set out to knead their pain and wounds, their hopes and hungers, into bread. Waiting is the yeasting of the human soul."

I guess this will be more a journal for me. Well, it is anyway. And it's so much faster to type than write it all out. ;)

I can relate to what she means by the butterfly. I have had dreams about colorful butterflies before... and I knew at the time it meant my heart was transforming... it wasn't all for nothing. The waiting... I was only just beginning...

And now, I have felt that wintery season is still upon me. I'm still waiting to see the blossoms from the covered seeds that are deep within the ground. Spring will come... and in my wait, something beautiful will come from it. But I can't rush it. I can't fast-forward the waiting period. I will miss something. There is always beauty in the wait.

I just have to remember that.

While my heart waits.

For something unseen...

[[writing about the bulbs of daffodils]]

p46. "I was struck by how extraordinary their feat really was --those delicate shoots breaking through the soil, through all the darkness I'd heaped on them. I wondered if that was the same mystery going on in the soil of my own life. Was there a truer, more whole self buried in me under layers of heaped darkness? Was I being asked to break through the layers of my false selves and let the True Self emerge?"

p47. "God calls us to tend what lies seeded in the soul, this kernel of our truest nature--the God-image or True Self."

"There is something in the soul which is only God. I can't think of anything that creates such a feeling of awe in me." -Eckhart

"We are to grow up in every way into...Christ." -Eph 4:15

"Throughout our lives we create patterns of living that obscure this identity [of being like Christ]. We heap on the darkness, constructing a variety of false selves. We become adept at playing games, wearing masks as if life were a masquerade party. This can go on for a long while. But eventually the music of the True Self seeks us out. Sooner or later [often in mid-life], we're summoned back to the garden. We're called to soul-work."

p48. "...the soul was like a precious field from which we must 'root out the useless grasses, thorns, and briars' in order to reveal the beauty of God's image glistening in the soil. To Hildegard, sin was failing to care for the soul, failing to water it and give it what she called 'greening power.' The saddest thing, to Hildegard, was a 'drooping soul.'"

Why worry?
I know...
I know what you need,
and when you need it.


...Sometimes the very thing you're looking for is the one thing you can't see.