There is something about a love that's lost. The pain of loss through mistakes. The pain of loss through senseless. The pain of loss not understood.
I gather the tears of friends. Wounds of heartless nights in a union of wedded souls. Cries of babes who will never be heard. Shouts of cancer silencing another saint.
His perfect rhythm was fractured and here we are. Fighting. Fighting without. Fighting within. Limping along. Feeling sinews tearing at the frustration of the unpredictable. Feeling failure. Feeling helpless in an out of control world.
But, He said look unto me, and so I look. I keep looking, and I keep pressing.
There is a beauty in restoration. A restoration that does not return love lost. A restoration that heals without answering the why. A restoration that slices deep down in the soul and reveals the reality of a heart struggle.
There is a joy in facing fear. A joy in everything stripped bare. A joy that begins to seep ointment into the wounds of abandonment, suffering, and pain. A joy in the "whys?" of rage becoming the "wise" of trust.
There is a healing in the fight to believe. A healing in the refusal to accept the here and the now. A healing in the laying down of desire. A healing in fists flung at the demons of the night. A healing of open and raised hands towards the light.
Heal me, O Lord, and I shall be healed; save me, and I shall be saved, for you are my praise.
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