It’s been harder to write nowadays.
I feel like before everything I learned and felt and experienced was easily put into words and expressed in one sitting. Right now, when I write, I feel like I’m trying to catch a color and pin it to a screen. It keeps getting away and in the end, I give up because maybe it wasn’t meant to be written and read.
Lately I’ve been asking Jesus to speak to me. I know right now, it’s not in the Bible and it’s not through other people or a message. I feel like he’s drawing me back to the place we started: on my little rug next to my bed. The past couple days found me retreating to this spot to seek quiet and stillness. There was, waiting for me, a little bit of frustration, a little bit of tiredness, a few tears, closeness and rest.
When he says he’s close, I believe him, I know it. When he says he loves me, has a plan, protects and defends me, I know. All these things, I already know. And it’s not enough. Because I am born of spirit and I believe I can only be ministered to by spirit. I know that words do carry power and are compelled by the spirit but right now, no. Not right now.
I feel this emptiness within me. It’s such a curious thing because I am so satisfied, yet I can say with my conscience that I am harboring a void. Two days ago on my rug, I told Jesus that I was empty but not like I was a vessel once filled and drained today. But more like… I just discovered another cavern of my soul. I know I sound hippie and super out there but what can I do. This new depth is waiting for the rain, the thundering and reign of God, my God. And I am very okay with waiting because I want to know the emptiness to the fullest, to hunger and thirst and yearn for him. And when the rain comes, it’s gonna come.
Til then, here I am. Everyday. All the time. So in love. I am ruined for the world. My craving holds me captive to the best master ever hahah. If I died today, I would be happy.