It's a lonely road, a long and hard road. A beautifully terrifying road.
The floodgates have opened, and months of brokenness wash over me the few moments in which I allow myself to be vulnerable...
To imagine that years of sin and selfishness, years of insecurities and fears, could hunt me down and find me as I hide in my little city. To think that, after years of surrender and forgiveness, many nights repenting, I am still consumed by them, slave to them, leaves me with the thought. Where else is there to go?
I kneel, head bowed, fists clenched, tears escaping down my cheeks. I am reminded of Peter in his desperation...“Lord, we have left all we had to follow you!” I have nothing left - without Him, I have nothing. Without Him, I am nothing. I cannot see Him in me, but I have to hope, fiercely, that He is working in me. Without that faith, I have no hope. He is my life, my wairua.
In my arrogance and frustration, I cry out to my God. Where is He, in this moment of weakness? Why has He loved me all along, but not now? And He whispers to me...I have loved you all along. I want you. I still want you. It is you who continues to run from me. You lament that you cannot recognise me, yet you have refused to meet my gaze for so long.
I am alone. If I were gone tomorrow, what would happen? Nothing, in the grand scale of things. Yet He still accepts my tears and frustrations and curses and my humble return to His feet. And I am hopeful. I am made worthy.
“I lift up mine eyes unto the hills — from whence cometh my help? My help cometh from the LORD, the Maker of heaven and earth.” (Psalm 121:1-2)
Where is the sense in this crazy gift called grace?