I remember the day I fell in love with God. I danced and sang and cried with joy as my heart swelled greater than I thought possible. I was in love with my Maker. It was a process and it took 6 months being nurtured, discipled, and loved by many amazing people at one of the world's most beautiful university's to get to that point. I had held on to so much hurt and it took His gentle prodding to slowly release my bloody fingers from every last piece and shard of my soul and into his. I physically watched my life as a broken pitcher slowly be put back together with all the holes & cracks becoming beautiful things. Ways for God to seep out into the world through someone who never knew it could really happen. I remember the promises, the hope and the dreams. And I remember slipping once and letting it all fall away. I look inside of me and all I see--all I feel, is blackness. Dark, and empty where that joy use to be. I feel a wall that the little piece of me crying out can't climb over or break through. And I feel the hopeless dread of life's despairs and struggles weighing on my shoulders, tugging at my heart. For me there was never black & white. It was always grey which meant when I fall, I fall hard. But in the midst of it all. I can still hear the words of Clayton King, of Maggie M, of Hannah C. I can remember feeling alive and loved and whole for the first time. I can remember my desires and passions and how God used all that to keep me from letting go for good. I guess it's time to acknowledge that I let go, or I thought I had. I am doubting Thomas believing only what I see, I am Judas betraying with a kiss, I am Israel, turning my back on God only to realize that He is my one freedom.
I am Israel, I am Israel. And you will bring me back from captivity.
