a figure of bronze, dissolving into tears (part 2)

I grabbed my prayer journal:

"I am going to pray. And I'm going to read my Bible. And I'm going to worship. Because those are literally the last things I feel like doing."

So I did just that. I turned some heavy music up very loud and started reading the Letter. After a while I grab the pj and fill about a page talking about how abandoned I felt. Yet still I praised Him. Still I recognized how good He is. Then I heard Him calling me.

I got down on the floor and played the guided prayer time from Kairos the other night. I cried so hard, but I wanted to see Him. I wanted to see my Jesus, bearing my sins. To talk to Him and tell Him my heart. And to hear Him speak. So I did. And when Mike said, "What is He saying to you?"

And there in the nothing I heard Him.

"Seek me."

Oh my Jesus, I have questions.

"Ask"

Did I hear you right about Heather? Is she the one?

"She is"

Where do I look for a job?

"Look here"

Nashville?

"No, look here."

How long God? (To what, I'm not sure, both questions weighed on me.)

"I am coming soon."

Yet what followed was more doubt:

"Oh God, have I heard? Have I ever heard anything. I cannot see for fear of my own heart. Here I am, afraid You are telling me what I want to hear. And I doubt."

I listened to the song "Times" by Tenth Avenue North about 7 times in a row. Just crying and reaching out for my precious Jesus. Picturing Him there on the cross. So sorry for all I've done to put Him there. Then I slept.

The next morning was a disaster. I felt rotten when I got up, and my mom was in a foul mood (she took the day off work to clean up for her sisters who were bringing two friends to visit). Before 15 minutes had passed in my day I had written an entire page in my pj, two separate entries. And the day didn't get on much better.

As the day continued I thought about some of the scripture passages God had led me to. And I realized I was being punished. My heart had become black. My sin had become pervasive. And I wasn't living for Him. That's why everything was so wrong. That's not to say Heather was right, but that God used it as a part of something bigger.

I recalled this morning that I had prayed for it. I had prayed for God to do anything to change me and bring me closer. This is me held to the fire. "You will look like Me," He says.

I don't know when we got home, but I didn't want to do anything. I felt just as bad, if not worse than I had the day before, so again I worshiped. I spent from before 10:30 pm until after 2 am just singing along or listening to worship songs, and praying, and writing, and reading my Bible. It was such a wonderful time.

There were hard parts. I prayed asking God whether or not I should ever let my heart move on from Heather and I opened my Bible to the Sermon on the Mount, first section heading on the page, "Adultery." I wrote in my pj, "Its hard to trust You like this. Everything is truth and everything is lies, and everything is just nothing."

I read a lot of Job, even copying some of it into my pj.

"Naked I cam from my mother's womb, and naked I will depart.
The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away;
may the name of the Lord be praised."

I spent a lot of that night asking God to forgive me. I was led to many Psalms to that effect, and I read them aloud, crying from my heart.

I spent the last hour just in worship and prayer. It started with this entry in my pj:

"I don't feel like worshiping. My heart is broken. My stores are empty. My health threatens to fail. All You have given You have taken.
Still You are worthy. Still I praise."

So I did. And I loved every minute of it.

After I was done I caught Cannaan and Zane online. They both asked me how I was and I told them,

"The last two days have been miserable. Nothing has been right, outside or inside. And nothing has improved at all. But I am so joyful right now. I've spent at least half my waking time the last two days in worship and prayer, and I'm not sure I've ever been closer to Christ."

Cannaan asked me how I was handling everything with Heather and looking for a job. And then I said something I've been waiting a long time to hear.

"It sucks. I hate it. But I wouldn't change anything if it meant I'd lose where I am with Christ. I wouldn't trade this for anything."

This is me thankful for the storm.

And it continued today. I spent most of the day alone. In prayer, in worship. Listening to prayer times and sermons from Kairos. Listening to a playlist I compiled of very, very mellow and soft worship songs. Things for private, deep times. And I'm so joyful.

The last three days, I've learned so much about my relationship with Christ. So much about how to rely on Him. How to be in hard times. How to come to Him. How to spend free time even.

When everything sucks and you don't feel like worshiping. Do it, because that's when you need it most. That's when your relationship comes down to commitment and promise. You don't do it because you want to. You don't do it because its easy. Its hard as hell. But you do it because you said you would, no matter how bad it hurts. This is what you signed up for. Didn't anyone tell you about the cost of discipleship?

Tonight as I was spending my time in worship I grabbed my Bible to read it. When I looked down it was at Song of Songs 5. I didn't even acknowledge it. I just flipped for a new place to read. I don't make anything of it. I won't unless one day she contacts me. Except . . . there's one thing that haunts me. While I've been doing this I've been looking forward, knowing I have to learn how to live like this. How to hold on in the toughest of times.

I've been thinking of how I would act when I got upset when I was with Heather. I wasn't upset with her, but sometimes she'd feel that way. But all this . . . . I've seen part of the man I really am. That when things are at their worst I don't need to get upset. I don't need to push her out and be fussy. I need to grab her and say, "Things suck. Let's worship." And turn down the lights, and put on some music and hold hands and bow down on our knees before the Lord.

And I try to picture that scenario with anyone else. From this girl I saw at Kairos the other night, to a faceless substitution of the unknown future Mrs. Frank. Trying anything. And without her. Without Heather kneeling beside me. Her little hand in mine. Her soft sweet voice singing quietly. There is no picture. Nothing forms. It just dissolves. And maybe its just that I can't picture it now in the wake of my broken heart. But its depressing. And honestly I hope its real. I don't want to be so naked before anyone else.

My thirst grows daily. I desire the Lord worse than the deer pants for water.

Hear and trust. No matter what. God is good.

In Revelation, as all hell breaks loose on earth, worship continues in heaven. And the faithful left alive on earth remain so. And as the God-less cower and ask for the rocks to hide them from the wrath of the Lamb, those with the seal of God come out to worship. Can we be so? Are we prepared to worship as the world crumbles? As the very foundations shake with earthquakes, and war and famine and disease spread? What about when we are given to defeat by the dragon? Will we be able to stand and worship?

If not we need to get ready. God is good. He is worthy. And He never, ever changes.