Shaken

I decided that Jesus was my life when I was 2.

I gave Bible sermons from my "pulpit" for anyone who would listen.

And for years we had this mutual give and take relationship.
He would give...and I would take.

I lived by faith.
And faith alone.

My daughter died.

And I crumbled.

Empty.
Broken.
Abandoned. 

And I let darkness surround me

while I fell to my knees.

I felt myself reaching out to a God

who simply wasn't there.

"Perhaps your own reiterated cries 
deafen you to the voice you hoped to hear."
C.S. Lewis 

The truth is
my heart had not been silent enough to even hear God.
I was so busy screaming through the pain...
and fearing that God would not show up
that I missed Him.

My wounds had been ripped open.
They bled out the hurt, the sorrow, the anger.
The gut wrenching reality that nothing I could do
in this earthly life
would ever bring her back.

The "faith alone" that I lived for years?
Shaken.
How easy was it...
 that in one, single breath...like a house of cards...
it could be blown over?
What kind of faith was that?

So I silenced myself.
I forced myself to face God.
Unrestrained.
Without fear.
Empty handed
and brokenhearted.

"Meet me...

God
Because this story
is far from over.

"I carried you on eagles' wings
and brought you to myself."
Exodus 19:4