June 16, 2015

Hey now, don't dream it's over

Sunset at Gettysburg 6/12/15
You're quite welcome for getting that song stuck in your head.
Perhaps it was Gettysburg.
Perhaps it's the summer.
Perhaps it's freedom.
Perhaps it's those around me celebrating an engagement with beautiful bright, happy photos or another being celebrated over the release of her debut novel.
Perhaps it's all of those gifts and more wrapped up and handed to me by the lover of my soul, my healer and Savior who never ever ever ceases to pursue me.
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This winter and spring were rough. I honestly thought at one point my dreams were over before they had ever taken tiptoeing steps into coming true. I wrote perhaps too often, too transparently here of struggling with my own dreams and contentment due to those close to me having their dreams unfold so beautifully right before my eyes. 
I'm here today to say--it's always darkest before the dawn. And I just had me my own day of dawning. No dreams came true today. Everything's stayed the same. But like one dear friend said, God's been working on my heart for weeks to bring about this dawn.
He is still working. His nail-pierced hands are right behind me to catch me when I decide to trust and fall. The Holy Spirit's been so good to breathe life into quite dormant dreams. Dreams for the heart of my stories I'm working on. The dream of being someone's Special Someone someday. There are release in words. Here, in journals, in hours-long Facebook chats with some of the best of friends going through similar heart-rending circumstances, changes and lessons to be learned. 

A wise heart-sister once told me,
"There is freedom in the breathing of words to the Lord."

This freedom? This One Word of mine for 2015? It boils down to turning around, looking up to Him who holds the galaxies in His capable hands, and choosing to talk to Him. The Holy Spirit intercedes, thank you Lord, but too often we rant and rant and vent and resent and huff and puff in our know-it-all-ness so much that the truth deeply ingrained in our souls becomes muddied. Our head knows it, but when tested and pressed but not crushed from all sides--it's just hard. Some days, too hard. We humans fail. I hate failing. I get frustrated with not dealing with life in the way a good Christian-brought-up girl should. So I smile and wince and mask my heart's pain and thank people for prayers and verbally count blessings and how it could be worse. I rationalize and minimize my pain away. The pain of dreams unfulfilled, the pain of expectations and plans taken for granted gently taken away and replaced with a healing that even now overwhelms my heart to swelling with tears.

It's not over. I've had quite a time of speaking dead-on truth to myself that, no--my surgery is not the postponement of my life but the merely the beginning of an unwritten chapter that very well may hold many new, exciting doors to open. And where doors don't open--God opens a window. 

Wherever you are right now, can I extend a hug and some words from a heart that's been through the wringer--the Lord of Lords way up there in heaven? He sees you. He knows. He cares oh, so much for you. He doesn't want you to dream that it's all over. God's got you. He's got whatever you're facing. He loves you so much and will never stop pursuing your beautiful heart.