I realised on Wednesday that I had to let go of something.
I can’t go into the specifics here, but suffice to say it’s something that I’d been hanging onto for a while. And I felt pretty sad about it. But I knew that it was time.
I talked to my housemates about the issue late Wednesday night, and finally went to bed about 11.30pm.
I often pray while I’m lying in bed. And this may sound strange, but I often meet with God on a dance floor in my mind. I wear a gorgeous dress. He wears a tux. We waltz and talk.
There was no dance floor on Wednesday night. Too tired and disappointed for that. But let me share what I wrote in my journal the next morning:
“Last night as I went to sleep, I lay in bed and held my bleeding heart in my hands. No dance floor now.
“But suddenly You were there too, laying there facing me. You pulled out Your own heart. It was bleeding too.
“You shed tears over my pain, and held my heart carefully in Your hand. You stroked it and kissed it.
“Then You put Your own heart in my chest, and placed mine in Yours.
“I knew my heart would heal there – in fact, it felt more at home with You than with me. And Your heart – which understood my pain – would sustain me, far better than my own ever could.”
And God is faithful. I’m healing; He’s sustaining.
For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are – yet was without sin. Let us then approach the throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need.