for the glory of it all…

I used to write all of the time, expressing myself with the rare vulnerability of most writers today. And in those days the freeing vulnerable way that I used communicate came so easily. 

But things got personal. 
Weren’t they always personal? To this degree?  
I just can’t bring myself to hang up this amount of hurt on the clothesline yet.

I say “yet” because even though I feel there’s no reason to, a part of me is hoping, wishing, waiting for that day when this is all over. And when that day comes I’ll muster up the words to rip open and expose my heart only then to praise and thank the One who always, always, always remains faithful.

In these days, I’m so thankful that God never changes. I’m so thankful that in my own little world, my little heart beaten with inconsistency, is bandaged up with the truth and reassurance that even when everything changes, He remains the same. 

It’s only by God’s generous grace, that I’ve managed to experience real “bubbles” of joy in this time. Fortunately he has equipped me with the strength of joy and the endurance-inspiring hope. Equipping me with enough energy to bend down and pick up those seemingly perfect pieces, and muster up the power of love inside to simply forgive and begin the puzzle all over again. 

But as my puzzle is continually destroyed, and the apologies result from the once again inconsistency, it makes it even more discouraging to do what I should do; pick up the pieces, love, and put the puzzle back together. 

The pieces chip and break as they hit the floor with such a shocking intensity, and with more pieces to work with than ever before, confusion seems as if it might just consume you if you stop long enough to figure out where in the world to begin. 

I’m thankful for the Puzzle Maker, who is the King of Restoration, and knows exactly where every piece belongs in it’s time.