I turned off the phone, curtailed the emails, and even cancelled coffee dates. The TV sat silent. Even the radio lost its glow. I sat in the quiet...listening.
The Lord was doing something. His healing touch reached deep into my heart into areas I truly thought were healed already. Gently, He opened wounds that left me breathless with pain. Mercy does not hide from pain when pain is necessary for revealing the need for healing.
In the quiet hours, we sat together, and He spoke to my spirit and mind, adjusting thoughts, addressing fears, exposing lies. He didn't try to fix the tears with cliches, nor did He try to make me above them because He was uncomfortable with the truth of them. Instead, He held on to me in unexpected ways...the perfect song at the perfect time, blogs that wrote exactly what I was feeling, human touch that did not let go but whispered, "It's okay."
We became intimate in a new way, a deeper way.
I wasn't okay, but that was okay. He didn't expect me to be. In that situation at that moment, I was exactly what I should be--hurt and confused. And instead of trying to pretend I was okay and life was rosy, I was doing exactly what I needed to be doing...
Crying on Him.
Crying out to Him.
Being the broken, desperate me with deep needs that cliches and human advice can't fill.
Being the me He always knows I am...
...The me He adores.
...The me He longs to hold.
...The me He is always seeking.
In the quiet, He found me, and I found Him.
And He is exactly what I need.