A quiet rebellion

 

My silence has invaded more than just the blank posts that I've tried to compose.  I've been sitting in a quiet rebellion, keeping my thoughts to myself.  Hesitant to speak them into being, afraid I'd not be able to stop the flow of words.  Frustration, disappointment, confusion, uncertainty.  It was somehow easier to just remain silent.  But the silence hasn't been enough.  It never is.  I could feel my white flag being raised over the last few weeks.  A slow unfurling.  Like a realization.  My fight was only hurting one.  Me.

 

I have had a hard time breaking into my inner sanctum, that quiet place that is mine and mine alone.  I had wandered from there, not being intentional to come aside and stop.  To stop and take time with the One who had inspired this place to begin with.  Truthfully, I've been distracted with things I thought were more important.  I have been living in the denial of my ONE true need- that One I had come to rely on.  I think in the midst of all the busy-ness of moving and grieving (of so many things of which I cannot write) I had allowed myself to be taken away.  I've been giving myself to all the wrong things.  Isn't it odd how we think we've grown and moved on with things, only to realize that which we wrestle with just changes shape and circumstance as we mature?  Being sure of myself- and I do mean of myself- I willfully walked away from the Glue that is my substance, the reality of life that holds me together.  The actual source of my life.

 

The other day I ventured into a time of silent prayer only to find I was standing with my back to the field.  My back turned to Him, His gentle hand resting on my stubborn shoulder.  I cannot tell you what delight I have taken in knowing that He stood there with me, even though I had turned from Him.  When I had taken up my own cause, thinking I needed to handle things.  Realizing that I was not.  That I could not. 

 

I don't know why I am prone to this wandering.  Why I get confused easily, how I seem to drift away on a breeze.  I lose track of how far I've drifted, oblivious of the distance until I lift my head and realize I'm in unfamiliar territory.  But I love His quiet presence.  That He doesn't stomp His feet in protest of my stupidity or go off on a wild ranting tangent like I find myself doing so often.  He's such a patient parent.  Such a gracious Father and Friend.  You know, honestly, it's the quiet that leads me back to the center of His grace and mercy. His furious love for me.  The small ways He shows up that are just between us, like our own inside joke.  It's so many things that I think and feel but yet cannot explain.  He is very much like a familiar song on my tongue, one that takes me to a place I know I was meant to be, to be the person I know He created me to be, to become, with His mighty word.  A beautiful, painful restoration.  Such a contrasting idea, mysterious beyond what my feeble mind can comprehend.

 

Are you in need of raising your own white flag?  Mine is unfurled and blowing wildly in the breeze. 

 

He is for me.  For us.  He is good and His love endures forever!