Today I came home from church with so many thoughts and emotions. None of them good.
Today I felt disappointed in my perceived shortcomings.
Today I felt exhausted.
Today I felt done.
“Maybe I just won’t go back to church ever again.” I told myself. “I’ll slip out quietly, feigning sickness until I’m forgotten.” It seemed reasonable enough. People do it all the time.
Today I escaped to my upstairs balcony, my newfound haven, and conversed with the Lord. I shared my thoughts and emotions with Him. None of them good.
Today He listened to me. He listened to me and He loved me. He loved me so much that I felt the physical weight of His existence, the magnitude of His glory surrounding and resting upon me.
“Today you did exactly what I created you to do.” He told me. And I cried. I cried and fought to choke out the question, “Why dost thou love me so much? How can this be?”
He then told me to, “Be of good cheer. All is well.”
I tried to hold onto His words, to believe in His promises, but soon I slipped back into my mind, refusing to be comforted. “Please take me into your arms. Hold me there and protect me.” I pleaded. “I don’t know how to be of good cheer.”
I opened my eyes and gasped with joy as two doves flew directly over me. So close that I could see the finest details in their perfect forms. “Thank you for that gift.” I whispered. Oh how I love birds.
“This is how you do it.” I was told. “This is how you be of good cheer. You open your eyes and look.”
Today I looked. I looked at God’s creation. The birds, the trees, the sky. I looked and I cried. Because though I am terribly flawed, my God is perfect. And through His perfection I can find wholeness, I can find peace.
Today I understood that as much as I would like to hide in my Father’s arms, shielded from vulnerability, pain and disappointment, He can’t keep me there.
I must taste the bitter to appreciate the sweet.
I must walk through the clouds to find joy in the doves.
I must feel that I failed–broken and weary–to be showered in God’s love as He tells me I’m exactly where He wants me to be.
And maybe, just maybe, I won’t be sick next Sunday.
But it will take a few more balcony sessions before I can know for sure.
