I'm writing with a heavy and slightly broken heart. Why, you ask? If you were to ask such a question I'd probably respond with something deep and artistic; that had tons of sentimental meaning. But it would leave you with no actual answer. It would only cause you to ponder the meaning of life and why you're breathing every moment even when you don't tell yourself to. So think to yourself what an answer like that would sound like, and there you have it: go ahead, think of it right now. There it is:
It's funny how we're called to give our lives away. Paul said that for him to live was Christ, and do die was gain. Jesus called us to give everything we had, because those who favored their lives over Him were unworthy of Himself. During my personal growth in Jesus I've realized how much Jesus is worth. And that He's worth so much more than I'll ever be able to comprehend. So a life of this sort is what I know I desire to have. But It's so easy to become sidetracked; to lose focus; to forget. I also speak as the worst owner of a heart you'll ever meet. And I'm afraid that as I'm getting older I'm not only bad at keeping my own heart from pain, but that tendency is dangerously close to hurting the hearts of others. I fear my passion and emotional-ness (isn't that deep of me?) may be the culprits. But they're also who I am, and so to excuse them would be a mistake; rather, I must learn how to control them. However, there seems to be a perk. There seems to be some hope. There seems to be a light. Because in this whole crazy scheme of things, I am still Jesus' Beloved. He still paid the price, just for me. He still treasures me, and my heart, above anything else. And when I go and do what I'm so good at doing, He never leaves. He never forgets about me. He never walks away. He stands at the place where I should be, watching me go while His heart breaks at the sight of my self inflicted pain. Then when I sit there long enough, and realize that it hurts and that I'm not doing what I should. Then it happens. He only has to say it once. He only has to say it.
"I love you."
and the words are enough because they're His. He is all I need forever. He is more than enough. And as I pick up the broken pieces and go back to His feet, He takes them all and starts to break them even more. It hurts, yes. But what is pain at this point? I have Jesus again now. And eventually He'll put it completely back together and He'll give it back to me. But the catch is for me to give it to Him. Because that's when I'll have true freedom. And that's when the pain will no longer be my friend.
Jesus has been moving in me. He got me out of the spot I thought I wanted to be in, even though I knew deep down that it probably wasn't right. He's blessed me so much more than I'll ever be able to understand. And He's given me hope; life; a future; and peace. Because He is. I'm still growing, I'm still bleeding now and then. But He's enough. And I'm in the right place now. Because I'm with Him. And He's causing all things to fall into place. I don't know where I'll be going in the near, or especially the far, future. But I'm learning that He's enough. And I'm excited to be in His hands once again.