I’m staring at these empty walls, wondering when You’ll visit me again, when will You come? If there is anything at all, coming in between our love, please show me, because I am barely hanging on. -Meredith Andrews.

Sometimes, I come to this place, I know it well — it always welcomes me in. The place where, when it’s cold outside, under a blanket seems like the best solution? The cold place where I hardly want to leave the house at all? The painful place where all I can hear is silence? Eventually, what happens is, I reach my hand out at first but eventually, the tiredness settles in & I’m in a deep slumber.

Am I the only one? I wonder.

I question how I could possibly be in this place, yet again. And, I question who even notices or cares? In this moment, the discontentment & confusion leads me to question everything, including God. At first, I question Him & then, the questions stop & the accusations begin, and after that, the silence settles in & I don’t say anything at all.

I hear the lies — I’m not good enough. I’m dirty. I’ve been tossed to the side. I’m broken. I will always be worthless. I will never be enough.

I can’t cry out to God because He doesn’t even hear me. God hates sin & I’ve lived a sinful life. God hates divorce & I’m divorced.

Tears stream down my face as I remind myself of the list of ways that I’ve let God down and have broken His heart — it’s lengthy and it’s a mess.
& then, I’m reminded.

When a woman who had lived a sinful life in that town learned that Jesus was eating at the Pharisee’s house, she brought an alabaster jar of perfume, and as she stood behind him at his feet weeping, she began to wet his feet with her tears. Then she wiped them with her hair, kissed them and poured perfume on them.

When the Pharisee who had invited him saw this, he said to himself, “If this man were a prophet, he would know who is touching him and what kind of woman she is – that she is a sinner.” [Luke 7:37-39]

It’s what I choose to do with my tears that makes all of the difference at this exact moment in time — I can choose to wipe them away in vain & turn my back on everything that I know; I can let the lies that fill my mind win. I can let the Pharisee’s that surround me show me that they’re right, I am just too much for even God Himself.

Or, I can come to the feet of Christ, knowing full well that I am a sinner; I have sinned — but I am willing to pour every tear that I have on the feet of the only one who could possibly save me, even in the mess of a state that I’ve let myself get to, I can trust that He is worth every single thing that I could possibly offer Him.

I guess all that I know to do is to kneel at the feet of the one that I love & pour out my tears & my life… and wake up tomorrow & choose Him again.


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