It happened again. Every last splinter finding its way into the spot it has already punctured in my heart. All those thoughts I had managed to take captive, now roamed freely through my head...and my heart. Things I hadn't thought about in months, now standing front and center in my mind. Hurting in so many places at once that I couldn't even identify where it started.
And there I stood like someone trying to herd cats. It's impossible to recapture runaway thoughts when your heart is leaking from thousands of puncture wounds. Every tiny drop draining you more and more until you want to give into that nagging desire to throw in the towel. What if this time you didn't try to take them captive? What if for once you quit playing the part of Daddy's girl and just let them loose?
But it isn't an option....not now, not ever probably...and so you look for another place to hide. Somewhere to cry behind closed doors. It's another one of those days that you can't even pray because if you did one of those thoughts might find its way out of your mouth. He already knows them, but the fear of how good it would feel just to let one escape is too great. If one leaves, its friend might follow.
And so you cry....one of those "hair in a ponytail, snot everywhere, sink down in the floor in the fetal position" kind of cries. And the Holy Spirit says, "Here she goes again," and He makes intercession speaking the words your heart is too broken to form. The thoughts leave you guilty, and broken...and fragile. The thin places stretched so tightly that you're sure this time they will rupture.
At first He doesn't answer. And then He sends a text from a friend offering a ride when you need it most. And then He sends a text from a friend who knows each and every one of the splinters and how they found their way into your heart. She's offering to call after work because she understands just as if the Holy Spirit wrote it on her heart too. You walk into the church basement at the point of exhaustion and find someone with a similar story, someone who bears some of the same splinters. You find yourself starting to feel encouraged, and then a couple of more arrows show up and you start to forget where He's lifted you too.
So then He sends it to you in writing. Two different pieces by two different authors about two different things. From the blog entitled "Grace Uncommon", "Lovely one, if you dare to dream, you must be brave enough to fight." And then from Ann Voskamp, "What was intended to tear you apart, God intends it to set you apart. Whatever has torn you, God makes a thin place to see glory. Whatever happens, whatever unfolds, whatever unravels, you can never be undone."
God paused just for you. He graced two ladies to write the words He wanted to speak to your heart. He had them write it in time so that it would be posted at the moment you needed it most. And you feel the touch of His hand....the puncture wounds closing tight around the splinters attempting to prevent loss of any more life-giving joy. The thoughts that once ran rampant begin to march single file into the darkest crevices of your mind.
The God who created the Universe is calling you to Himself. He wants to fill the places in your wounded heart that He alone can fill. The people around you leave you feeling empty, but those empty places were never meant to be filled by them. He is the lover of your soul. He is the One who brings healing to wounded hearts. He is the One who can touch all the broken places and close them tight again.
And as the healing begins again, you recall a quote from the writing of Ann Voskamp, "What was meant to tear you apart, God intends it to set you apart." And as you pause to ponder that statement, you hear that Still Small Voice beckon you to pick up the pen...