Hurt Brings Healing

Heartaches must be endured alone. No friend will ever be so close that she can feel the beat of your heart when it falters. Tears must be cried in solitude. True emotions can only be felt when there is no one around to see them. It is only in the privacy of loneliness that clarity of feeling can be known. When accompanied by another, regardless of how caring the other may be, it can never be ascertained whether the emotion is in its purest form. However, when one is bared to oneself and Eternal God, the depth and breadth of life and love, hurt and heartache can be measured. It is in that moment of nakedness that the soul can cry, and the heart can bleed drops of pure love and pain.

In his moments on the cross, Jesus experienced an alienation and a loneliness that cannot be fathomed. It was in that time that the depth of His love for us poured from his body, and it is by the wounds he suffered in solitude that we are healed. Whatever paltry hurts we must experience, in our own times of sorrow, cannot be legitimately compared to the weight He carried, however they can bring us a heartbeat closer to a Love that heals in a way that is utterly inexplicable.

It is in those truly “alone” times that I call to mind the picture my daddy drew for me of our heavenly Father. Daddy talks about when Jesus called God “Abba”—translated, that most closely resembles “daddy” or “papa.” My earthly father drew the picture in my mind that comforts me in my deepest pain and sorrow when he spoke of crawling up in God’s lap as I used to crawl up into his lap when I was sad or hurt. In the alone times, it is readily apparent that my “Abba” God is sitting there, patiently awaiting my hasty retreat to the haven of His arms. When I cry into God’s shirtfront, He just puts his arms gently around me and wipes away my tears with his nail-scarred hand, and a moment passes between my heart and His wherein I understand, briefly, for a hanging breath in time, the phrase, “but for the joy set before him, endured the cross, despising the shame…”

Though one may touch the heart of God in any circumstance, I find the moments when I’m bleeding from the soul to be the most tender, because it is in those times that I meet the Healer, the Comforter, and His gentle touch is the means by which grace is delivered. I am alone. I am hopelessly lonely, and broken and bleeding, but it is in my hurt that I find the heart of God pouring a fresh breath of life into my soul and replenishing my strength, when I have not enough to continue. Heartaches must be endured alone to understand and accept the gift of grace.

I'm annoyed

To those of you whose input here has been positive and enjoyable, I apologize. I will miss your thoughtful contributions. I have disabled the comments on my blog, because instead of being able to enjoy the input of my friends, I was given the dubious honor of playing policeman to other people's idiocy.

I find it annoying that some people think it's appropriate to hide behind the relative anonymity of the internet in order to make nasty comments about people. If you have something to say, then say it, openly. Don't be a jerk. (For those who are blissfully unaware of the circumstances, there is a blogger who is EGGing me on by posting lies about me in the comments section of my blog, and I have no patience for that kind of nonsense.)

DON'T EVER accuse me of anything illegal or immoral on MY blog. Period. DON'T tell me that I cannot be successful. DON'T come into MY world to pedal your poison. I will not have it.

Go be a jerk on your own blog.

I make it a matter of personal policy to make any contribution a positive one, and I will not allow anyone to lie about or be a jerk to me on my blog. There's plenty of room for being obnoxious elsewhere. I will not tolerate it, here.