I couldn't bear to be around her crying, her wanting me to be able to comfort her, to hold her in strong, soothing arms. What real Comfort could extend to her? What strong arms? All I knew were spirits that filled me first a fun fuzzy distracted, then achingly lonely and empty and dark and weak.
I stumbled outside to throw up, dropped to my hands and knees in the front yard grass, sick in body and soul over my self induced, helpless state. I covered my face with clammy hands, shame streaming liquid hot down my dulled exterior.
The deepest heaving welled up, I couldn't contain the cry of my own infant heart and screamed it over and over, into the face of the Father God that felt so far away in the isolating dark.
"God PLEASE don't let her suffer for my mistakes... PLEASE don't let me stay like this... PLEASE don't let her turn out like me... Oh, God, PLEASE..."
And as I screamed into the dark my younger brother told me to quiet, that I was drunk and would wake people up. It was he who had carried me in from the car I had come home in, the one that didn't even make to the driveway, but only onto the street. He had followed me outside. It was he who I had felt so harshly judged by all my growing up years, he who didn't now know if he believed in God... it was he who sat witness to my deep sickness and my expulsion of it. I needed to be rid of my sickness so desperately that I did not care. Where is pride in the dark of hell?
My response was more scream-prayer interrupted only by my retching in my wretchedness. I was as drunk as I had ever been, but I knew what I was praying. I knew I was talking directly to the God who made the grass I knelt in, the night I wept in, the child who I couldn't care for that was given to me to raise in knowledge and truth of Him.
And I was wild for the arms of this Father of compassion, this unknown God of all comfort, Who I was told loved me even more than I despised myself.
And He stooped down.
And He spoke The Light into the blackest heart of my fears, and gave me Peace.
"I have heard you. Don't be afraid, I have answered your prayer."
And He did.
He has.
He does.
"I sought the LORD, and he answered me;
he delivered me from all my fears.
Those who look to him are radiant;
their faces are never covered with shame.
This poor man called, and the LORD heard him;
he saved him out of all his troubles."
~Psalm 34:4-6
What response can there be to such patient Love poured out? A Love that fills with Spirit to overflow joy and peace and self-control?
"I will extol the LORD at all times;
his praise will always be on my lips.
My soul will boast in the LORD;
let the afflicted hear and rejoice.
Glorify the LORD with me;
let us exalt his name together...
Taste and see that the LORD is good!"
~Psalm 34:1-3,8
And that witnessing brother now loves the LORD our God, and I count him among my best friends. He confirms in soberness that he felt the sustained presence of God in a tangible way that night, all during my drunken prayer.
counting His graces with thanks today, because I feel strongly that if I keep quiet, even the stones would cry out...
#546-560
two whole days at home--in a row!
tiny clothing in soft and bright colors
hard working husband taking a sabbath
how easily children become "best friends" with other children
nightly family prayer
noticing lots of movement from the 21 week old in my womb
glue sticks and scrapbook paper and free printables
letter from sponsored child
girl-made birthday card
He. Is. Rest.
these bands 'round the fourth finger of my left hand, the man that put them there
sharing in His pain
songs with the exact words I am bursting to express to Him
clean surfaces
2 Corinthians 1:3-4
"Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God. For just as the sufferings of Christ flow over into our lives, so also through Christ our comfort overflows."
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