Coming back out.

I have never stopped writing. Only now instead of being relieved that the world in general isn't watching my crazy spiral into oblivion, I find myself frustrated at hiding it, and hitting save then closing the browser without publishing the post.

So I'm publishing again. I'm not going to publish everything I've written all month long, because some of it is just too dark - but I'm publishing what I think might be safe.

If I'm going to keep up this dark empty talk very long I'm going to have to find some place on this blog to say what I'm about to say:

The foundation is - God is good. Even when I can't find Him, even when I'm alone and broken and afraid. God's still good.

He hasn't lost me, even when I've lost Him.

And despite all the things I believe about myself, or my ability to hold a relationship with Christ - I believe that not searching for God is the worst mistake a person could possibly make.

Darkness

Just a clip from 97 Seconds with God.

I want to discuss how God spoke to Abram in the end of the chapter. Afterwhat appeared to have been some fairly casual conversations (if such a thing is possible with God) Abram is instructed to prepare a sacrifice. Then verse 12 and 13 say, "As the sun was setting, Abram fell into a deep sleep, and a thick and dreadful darkness came over him. Then the LORD said to him …"

Did you ever notice how God appeared? I've written about it before. It was in the midst of a thick and dreadful darkness. The stage for their discussion was not the angelic yellow glow that most movies or stories associate with God. No chubby angels played harps. No sunlight blinded Abram. Instead, a thick and dreadful darkness came over him.

What's terrifying about that is that I think God still works that way sometimes. I might like to believe that when I find myself surrounded by what feels like eternal night and get lost in a dark patch of life, God is not speaking then. But this verse suggests otherwise. I might think I am alone in the pit. That the night is something I have to get through before God will speak. But in this chapter, thick, dreadful darkness was His medium. It was His vehicle to share His message.

You might be in dark times right now. You might be in dreadful times next month. I hope that even in the midst of the long night, you will pause and ask, if like Abram, this is God's way of speaking purpose into your life.

When empty pours.

Empty. Forget one last drop, forget the tiny little bit you're holding onto. Cause it's not there. It's empty. No more. Nothing. Nada.

empty.

And yes, I did mean to make it a small 'e' rather than capitalize it - it seemed fitting.

And yet today, I taught Sunday School, and it went well. I led a song service, and it did alright. I made it through yet another day and didn't dig a hole, crawl into it, and pray for the dirt to fall back on me.

It made me think of the widow woman whose little jug of oil was almost gone. She was going to feed her child and herself one last meal and then die. But along came Elijah, and next thing she knows, she's used the last of her oil, but for some reason, it's still pouring oil. And it didn't run out. Empty vessel, still pouring.

That's what I feel like.

Only it doesn't feel miraculous.

I get what RWK was saying to me in a comment on their blog. That maybe these times teach you something. Because I get it. I spend every waking moment telling God that I don't have any more left in me. I'm done, I'm gone, I'm dry. So dry it hurts. And then He dumps me out and pours oil for someone then sets me back down, still dry.

In church today, I was thinking about this after I had successfully completed a Sunday school class. And the song came to mind "Bring Your Vessels Not A Few". And I couldn't help but tell God that I'd rather be like that miracle of oil. Where one pot of oil didn't just keep pouring. But all the vessels that could be gathered were brought, and filled. Abundance.


Is this really the only way I could learn that without Him I'm nothing? Is this really the only way I could learn to solely depend on Him rather than myself? Is this really only way He can teach me all the other stupid painful things I'm thinking now? Really?

Someone on RWK's blog linked to an article about Mother Theresa. I read the article, and unfortunately connected with it entirely. But it nearly rips your heart out to imagine that she felt this way seemingly right up until she died. All those years. All those years? To feel like this? I don't know how she stood it.

More than anything, I just want to know that this has an end. That it won't hurt like this forever, that the emptiness will go away and He'll give me something, anything to replace it. I'm tired of being broken, empty, and hurting.
I want to know this is a tunnel and not a pit.

Verses and posts

So earlier this week I discovered this post "3 O'clock in the morning".

It really shed new light on what I'm not feeling. The idea that someone else is feeling as empty and as nothing as I am and yet they still think they're saved. They think this time is useful. They seem pretty sure that God hasn't given up on them.

So I wondered....

Then last night I posted on the secondary blog I administer on with Larry/OneSided. It's a blog that is slowly being written on line with a new chapter each month. There's not many contributors yet - maybe one day it will grow (maybe if I paid it a bit more attention).

But the chapter I posted on was "Chapter 10: Only One Drop Left".

Then as I was crawling into bed for the evening, suddenly "Revelation 3:8 & 18" came into my head. I laid in bed thinking it was totally worthless to get up - nothing good and inspirational, or hope carrying could come from Revelation. (Reading about a future home in Heaven isn't inspiring if you think you might not make it.)

Finally, with a sigh I got up and pulled out my bible. This is what I found.

I know thy works: behold, I have set before thee an open door,
and no man can shut it: for thou hast a little strength, and hast kept my word,
and hast not denied my name. Revelation 3:8

I counsel thee to buy of me gold tried in the fire, that
thou mayest be rich; and white raiment, that thou mayest be clothed, and that
the shame of thy nakedness do not appear; and anoint thine eyes with eyesalve,
that thou mayest see. Revelation 3:18

I went back to bed then, talking to God, asking questions, listening to the silence and mostly just wondering.

#3&4 leave.

Friday the 13, at 3:30am two little girls under the age of two were brought screaming to my home by CPS. Wednesday the 25th at 6:00pm two little girls under the age of two were taken screaming from my house. Darling (22mos) and Precious (6mos)

This is the 3rd 'let go' I've had to do, and by far the worst. The oldest knew something was different and got upset while we were still at daycare as we collected all of their things from the daycare. The screaming commenced from there, and could still be heard as the cps worker drove away nearly 30 minutes later. We did calm some on the drive home from daycare, but the cps worker picked Darling up once we got home and she just started screaming. Precious, saw her sister screaming and joined in.

It's just one of those things you remember, and wonder how long it would take to forget. The crying and reaching for me, snot running from her nose, damp tracks where you see the tears have traced down Darlings cheeks.

All that said, they are being returned to their biological family and, assuming everyone involved has made the right decisions - I'm sure Darlin' and Precious are much happier now. I hope they get over the trauma and fear of the last 12 days. May they never experience anything like this again, for the rest of their lives.

Jesus, here's two more kids to hold.

Messed up

It's June 23rd. 23 days since I walked away from my blog and said I quit.

I'm tired. Just plain tired. Exhausted. And I'm sad. Just so freaking sad.

I think my hearts messed up.

And I just keep figuring that I'm going to be one of those people that fills their life with good works, and church going, bible reading, and prayer, and yet still stand before the throne of God and have Him say - "Sorry, you might have done all this in my name, but I don't know you."


It doesn't make me feel better to know I'm doing good things. Because I'm not doing the good things well enough. I leave holes where I didn't do the good thing right, or with the right spirit.

I've got two foster kids now, 22mos and 6mos, and I was sitting in front of the oldests ones door. I sit here, every night until she falls asleep. Last night, about 10 minutes into this, she started crying and I just sat here at the door. Something inside me said I should just continue to let her know I was close by, but not go to her.

And I did. I sat here singing some quiet little song and finally she went back to sleep.

Despite what I'm doing, and if I feel it might be best in the long run, I imagine God sitting up there tsk'ing over me like some grandmother watching her baby be left crying.


That's the scary thing about foster parenting. Now I think that not only is God mad at me for how I'm doing MY life, but now He's probably ticked off at how I'm treating His precious babies too. I can't win.

I've sat here, in this dark hallway for several nights now just telling God that I wished He could love me too. Despite me being so wrong. And lately, I've heard a lot of strange messages where God says He loves "you". After visiting a church last night, I even turned around and staring straight at me on a wall was a big sign that said "Jesus loves you." But "you", is a very unspecific word that I can easily discount and say it doesn't apply to me.

But for all that, I keep thinking that the idea that this love applies to me is just wishful thinking now. My little world of oblivion is just a place God won't reach anymore. That reach, that love, it's for those people that aren't wrong, aren't all messed up, or at least it's for those people that are wrong in all the good "God loves you anyway" ways.


I think my hearts messed up.

Goodbye

It's been a fun ride.
I'm profoundly thankful for the release this blog has given me.
I haven't been walking for awhile now though, so it's time to stop.
Thanks for having read,


The End.