Dear Beloved Friend,
You have been hurt and wounded. Too often broken and abused. You have shone strength because that's what you've been taught, but outward frames can only hold strong for so long before they are shattered on crumbled foundations. Your smile is always worn. Hidden tragedy describes the truth beneath. Your laugh is heard often, since tears need pushing down. Bitterness has taken root over time, twisting it's ugly self around the lies that suffocate the life right out of you. It's ugly. No one wants to talk about it. That's not the lives that us women are suppose to live day in and day out, year, after year, after year. Our lives are to be neutral, submissive, calm.
But someone needs to talk about it. In fact words are bursting to escape. The secrets need to be spoken because isn't it through the speaking of words that the truth can be told? And isn't it the Truth that ultimately sets us free? Without the words spilled straight out in front of us, don't we just keep living the lies? Burying the pain? Pretending, faking, being the hypocrite that chards our hearts to bleeding?
Weep those awful words. Scream loud them out to the God who has seemingly forsaken you. Where are His promises of Yes and Amen. Where are the blessings for those who have worked their hands and hearts raw for Him? Where is He when you need the rescuing? Has He forgotten the one that He has called Beloved?
You have grown cold, hardened. This freedom in Him seems all hype and talk, not a lot of authentic walking of the narrow way. In fact, those grace claimers do a bunch of grace seeking in the pews, and behind those closed front doors of theirs, they wallow in disgusting gut-wrenching sin. Bitterness, because it's those sin wallowers who have hurt you. Resentment, because of dreams lost, replaced with empty pain. Pain buried deep but always present especially during those dark, quiet moments when it's just you and the stillness around you, dissecting the lies.
But in that darkness when the quiet is so loud, pounding out the eardrums of your heart, brokenness somehow happens. And brokenness sounds harsh, and it sounds cruel, and it sounds like the echos of ugly words and angry fists and unfulfilled childhood dreams. But brokenness is really the first step, the first building block to becoming restored. For only when brokenness occurs, healing can begin. The cuts of the past, and the bruises of careless words, and the aches of thoughtless acts can start to mend through the bleeding and the scabs, and even through the scars.
It takes time, sometimes seemingly endless time to ease the pain. Painkillers bring release in the temporal, but healing, deep healing, authentic healing brings release for the long haul, cleaning out the eternal closets of the soul.
Dear Beloved Friend, you are well loved. And you are amazing. Your story continues to be written by the One who created you. He always authors perfect writings, no matter how many torn pages are within.