I go through lags of depression that steal my essence. Chaotic upheaval, like cups of salty water, can choke my throat and drown my breath. I’ve gotten lost in seasons of darkness and somehow abandoned my relationship with God. I don’t stop loving Him or believing in all that He is. I just fall away like a petal off a flower, watching my source grow blurry as I silently drop, unable to hold on to that intimate, vital love.
I must stay near to my Father through the worst times. I know that when I crawl into His healing arms He will provide a single, gentle step. If I take His offer, He will provide another. Along the way, I must be honest, painfully so, about my thoughts and feelings. I will share with God every detail of hurt, the shame of my sins, each scorching coal of anger, the bruising emotion.
He already knows the things I will tell Him, of course. The vital part is my willingness to share them with Him. When I reach out and pass the exact nature of my distress to my Father, my hand touches His and it is no longer my suffering, but ours.
I surrender the ache, the fear, the torment. God receives it. I will never know how or when His cure will find me. I just know that it will. God’s plan for me is always a sweet return to His love, peace and strength. It begins here and now. I know there will come a day when I am filled again.
Even when I walk through the dark valley of death, I will not be afraid, for you are close beside me. Your rod and your staff protect and comfort me. Psalm 23:1-4
Meeting God at the Park 