SoulTea

Pic via @mybeautifulafrica_

I call you. I hear you slurring your words as you answer. I dismiss the image of you sprawled wherever you are, drink in hand, eyes glazed over. I tell you it’s me, and you cheerily greet me. I cringe. I tell you the purpose of my call, and as you respond, I can almost see you striving to not slur your words; the deliberateness of your words, yet not so deliberate; the slowness of your speech, your odd breathing… I want to ask you what I already know, but I stop myself. It’s none of my business. You stun me with the next words that come out of your mouth: “I adore you!”

I mutter an awkward thank you, and quickly get off the phone.

I could say much about this interaction. I almost expect it every time I have to call you. Once upon a time I’d sit and think about why this is so; why this has to be a common theme with you. But I’ve learned to back off. I end up thinking about what needs to be done rather than what is happening. I think about the work required and where a person ought to be, rather than dealing with things as they are. And so, I leave things as they are. I leave you as you are. And I hope one day soon a braver soul than I can ask why this is a consistent thing for you, that at any moment I call, I get a slurred, incoherent version of you. And perhaps they can be there to really listen, and they can exercise the patience, understanding and the appropriate boundaries needed for such a thing. I don’t want to assume, and that’s why I back off. It’s why I get what I need and hang up. It’s why I do not kick up a fuss. I’m tired of kicking up a fuss and being misunderstood. Accused of judgement. Accused of misunderstanding. I have to learn not to care. I have to learn not to step into territory that isn’t mine. But I know also that even if it’s unfamiliar territory, when called upon, the point is not to impose my own expectations. I can only offer assistance when I am able. I can only point to the right direction. I can only be present in as much as I am able and comfortable; not because I am judging you, but sometimes people do more harm than good trying to be the saviour. In seeing you drown, I do not want to drown. In watching the life rope I throw at you be dismissed and looked down upon, I can only watch, and hope that God intervenes, and sends a strong swimmer to help you. I want you to be well.

This is not what God intended for you. It’s not what you intended for yourself, either.

And perhaps you are not strong enough to face what is holding you down, and it’s ok. But reach out to the one who can. Be selfish. Cling to the hem of his garment, not because you deserve it, but because you need to get well, get back on your feet. This life is not what you intended and he is the only answer. You can’t help yourself so ask that he helps you. Demand that he helps you.

But of course, only if you want it. Only if you want to take that step.

I’m not going to say do it when you are ready. A day may never come for your readiness. You may be ready every day and not be brave enough to fulfill that readiness.

And really, is being ready more important than being free?

*SoulTea*

Take this mountain weight

Take these ocean tears

Hold me through the trial

Come like hope again

---Even When It Hurts---

|Hillsong United|

These lofty ideals that you hold…it’s not that they are impossible. It’s that they require work. It’s not that they are beyond your reach. It’s that they require a process. And the process is arduous, long. It requires you to focus on today; not years from now, and certainly not on what could have been. Different decisions would have brought different outcomes, yes; but there’d still be a process there too.

I know it’s hard. I know it feels incredibly unfair. I know you wish for a different hand. I know you pray, Why me? You strive to remain focused, guarding your mind from the serpentine spirit that whispers, “What if.” I know you had different hopes, but when people say “trust God” it’s in this moment that it means something. It means more when you can’t finesse yourself out of it. When you’ve submitted yourself to him but you would rather go a different way. When you can’t understand, and everything in you wants to pull away.
It hurts, I know. And it’s a different kind of hurt, one you can’t touch or explain. It’s deeply imbedded; you feel it beyond your physical body, but shallow enough to almost touch it. You feel it in your throat, shooting through your arms, legs; it creates a whirlwind of anxiety in your stomach and proliferates that sensation to the rest of your body.

You want this, but not like this. But trust God. Even if it’s less than what you wanted, expected, prayed for; trust Him. If it comes as a thousand broken pieces, and you expected it whole, trust that he has given you the ability to mend. And also watch him mend; do not take on what is not yours.

Even as it delays and you can’t endure one more hour. Trust God for one more day. One more day to believe. Hannah endured 20 years…20 years of heartbreak, but still trusting. Heart ache, but still trusting. Humiliation but still trusting. The contempt and ridicule of her adversary, but still trusted.

I know that you are not Hannah. And that you don’t have 20 years to give this. When a heart is deeply laden with sorrow, lamenting that which it has lost, or perceived to be have lost, who can comfort it? Hope deferred makes the heart sick; yes, your heart is failing and you are sliding into despondency. And you are fearful that this is as good as it gets.

But trust God. Even as it hurts like hell, trust Him. Even as disappointment props a chair and sits smirking at you, trust Him. You are growing through this. Let the machinations of life, His direction and prayer guide you through this tumultuous period. Don’t give up on yourself. I know it doesn’t feel like it, but you have the capacity to withstand this tumult. You can handle it.

I know you don’t want it, but it’s entrusted in your hands to conquer and to overcome. You are a conqueror and an overcomer.

It doesn’t make sense, but trust God.

It has never made sense, but trust God.

It may never make sense, but trust God.

It is the Lord who goes before you. He will be with you; he will not fail you or forsake you. Do not fear or be dismayed ..therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea, though its waters roar and foam and the mountains quake with their surging |Deut31:8/Psalm 46:1-3|.

*SoulTea*

pic via @worldtoafrica

I beg you, please; don’t make me wait too long. I can barely summon the strength to hang on. Most days feel as though I am hanging over a cliff, clinging to rope, a 20,000 ft deep gorge waiting to swallow me whole. I often tell myself not to look down, continue to look up, to wait because help is on the way. But I couldn’t help myself. I looked down, and saw the horrifying drop; the sounds of water rushing and converging with the steep boulders below producing a robust vibration taunting me: You are alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. I can’t deny the panic that overwhelmed me. My heart has been in my throat ever since. ‘Don’t be despondent,’ I tell myself. ‘It’s not going to be like this forever.’ But when you give an inch to panic, it is like a restless wildfire that consumes everything in its path. I feel it warring to reach the deep places of my spirit, even as it wars mercilessly against my mind.

I beg you not to make me wait too long. I don’t know how long I can hang on. You said that you would not tarry, that you would rescue me when I called. You promised that you knew what you were doing. Most days hope feels sluggish in my hand, slimy and slippery. Often it drops to the floor, and I can barely pick it up again. But I am a prisoner of hope. Even when it falls to the ground, I dive head first to pick it up again, because although it hurts, I believe that this isn’t all that there is in my life. My reprieve will come and it won’t be late.

It’s hard though you see? But there’s hope in the midst of the sound of mockery. It flickers in every incoming minute, in every passing hour, in anticipation of tomorrow. There is hope for better days, better situations. There is promise of a double portion for all my troubles. I don’t know how it will find me. But even as the sounds of panic pummel the walls of my mind; even as everything within me trembles, this mustard seed of faith gives me hope. I chose this path. And here I am. And so, I implore you, with all that I am, all that is within me: Do not make me wait too long.

~~SoulTea~~

pic by @osengwa (instagram)

Search This Blog

Pages

Search This Blog

Welcome

About me

Follow Me

recent posts

Most Popular

Blog Archive

Labels