resting in the Love which began it all

”What feels hopeless — is where you meet more Jesus... What they call the dark night of the soul may feel as endlessly black as the limitless cosmos — but darkness isn’t God, darkness isn’t infinite.

Darkness has limits, darkness has an end, darkness has borders. 

And sometimes you exhale like the expanse of a night sky, like even your breath calls your Father’s name, YWHW. 

And you breathe: All darkness has shores and there is always laughter on the other side. You have to believe this.  

And when you can’t believe— just breathe. 

Next breath, next thing, next step — and you will get through now.

He knew: He made your every breath to be the sound of His name, the endless song that comforts your only soul.”  

                                               ~Ann Voskamp

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“I have heard your prayer and seen your tears. I will heal you.” ❤

~2 Kings 20: 5

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“[T]he true consolations of religion are not rosy and cozy, but com-forting in the true meaning of that word: com-fort: with strength. Strength to go on living, and to trust that whatever Joy needs… is being taken care of by that Love which began it all.”

~Madeleine L’Engle

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For the past few weeks, I have spent a considerable amount of energy and time learning how to live with my new heart.

If it sounds dramatic, it’s because… well, that ‘s how I have felt. Not dramatic in the sense of melodramatic, or theatrical. But the past month has been a dramatic experience for me, as in… intense, striking, vivid, life-changing.

One way that I have been able to describe it to my Hub, is that I have experienced several life-altering physical experiences in the past – surgeries that flipped my life upside down, for example.  But this was my first life-threatening physical reality.

So in the midst of reading many texts to learn more about my condition, and reading texts to learn about my new meds, and journaling to process my emotions, and doing cardiac rehab three times a week – in the midst of all of it, I have given myself as much time as possible to breathe and to just be. 

But more importantly, I have given myself time to breathe and to be still… in the arms of the One who loves me most, and the One who knows me best.

With each deep breath, I am keenly aware of my beating heart. Sometimes the heartbeat is so strong that my whole chest feels like it’s bursting. At times I am even aware of a flutter, as if I can literally and acutely feel my heart beating, at least, like I never have before.

I don’t so much feel like I’m walking in painful darkness. There are too many stars, too many moments of light and goodness, in the most unexpected moments and sources—a melody, a written note, a Scripture prayer, a TV show!

But I know there is still much to sort through.

Like a bursting Oklahoma thunderstorm, my emotions and thoughts have been fast-moving, unpredictable, and sometimes volatile.

And when that happens, I follow the same “storm readiness steps” with my spirit that we are taught to follow here in Tornado Alley:

·      be alert,

·      listen to the warnings,

·      take precautions at the possibility of dangerous threats, and when needed,

·      go to your storm-safe place!

Fred Flinstone, Solomon, and the Syrophoenician woman

Remember Fred Flinstone? When faced with making an important choice, one that he clearly didn't want to do, Fred had a little devil figure that appeared above his shoulder giving him all the "right" answers, the answers he wanted to hear!

Even when my experience of God tells me differently and I clearly should know better, my little floating devilish figurine tempts me to follow strange gods, blurring my eyes and tormenting me with whispers of false comfort. I know I'm in good company, as even Solomon the wise king turned his heart away from the Lord in his old age.

By contrast, however, I can turn to Gospel examples of believers who turned to Jesus in time of crisis, not out of desperation, but out of complete and genuine trust, like the woman with a hemorrhage in Luke's Gospel (8:48) who sought simply to touch Jesus' garment trusting--KNOWING--that even that was enough for her needs. Or the Syrophoenician woman in Mark's gospel (7:25-30) who humbly begged for healing for her daughter, by falling down at Jesus' feet. I've mentioned her before here.

When faced with a choice, what is truly my heart's desire?

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Here's a video of one of the songs from "The Painter," a 1992 album by John Michael Talbot and his brother Terry: "Create in me a clean heart"

create in me
a clean heart o God
let me be like you in all my ways

give me your strength
teach me your song
shelter me in the shadow of your wings

for we are your righteousness
if we've died to ourselves
and live through your death

then we shall be born
again to be blessed in your love