Minutes pass slowly, as I breathe in the gentle air of Heaven. The resistance in life that tugs on every string I try to pull has frustrated my once settled soul. All these outward cravings clouding the inward search are a clue that my living has become a cover up to the cries beneath what can be seen.
He says it’s courage that has led me down a difficult road, beyond the grave of woundedness and denial, to enter into this desert of being alone.
“Do not run,” He says, “just be still and quiet. Listen to your own struggle.”
It seems that while the silence grows deeper, I become more and more aware of a presence embracing my soul. And as a deep peace fills the empty space, I know it can only be Christ in me that recognizes Christ in all that is surrounding.
“Here I am!” I yell.
Throwing his arms around me, the warmth holds me like I am His. Like He has been here the whole time waiting. We look at each other for a long while, until the corners of my smile tremble and the tears flush away the last remnants of fear.
Collapsing on this trail of mercy all my thoughts are safe with Him. “I am tired, Lord. I’m not sure which way to go. Tether my wandering heart. Every anxious thought, secure it to your promises. For the love, Lord! I want nothing without You. You know this. I’m not looking for answers. I’m listening to the questions. Breathe, O breath of God.”
He offers me the chance to stay alone and take the risk of entering into my own experience, without being immersed in more knowledge or illusive advice.
So I remain.
He assures my desperate heart that unknown beauty is growing just below. “One day this desert will be a garden,” He insists.
Bringing my heart to this place of community with God alone is the beginning. My soul sways with the breeze. Spirit, breathe Your heart in me. Carve your ways into the fibers of my being.
From now on, wherever You go, or wherever I go, all the ground between us will be Holy Ground. And this is where my community begins.