sweet whispers

February 21, 2009

Lord, break my heart.
I have spoken, whispered, these words to myself for the past year and a half or so, not knowing why. It has been a mysterious mantra, welling up from some unknown cavern of my soul. I felt strange, knowing my oddity. But I have succumbed to the words all the same, continuing to whisper them at random moments . . .
And so this week I cried with joy at the realization that I understand—I think—the words I have been speaking . . . the words that have been spoken to me.
I have been trudging through my faith, running so fervently to serve God that I did not notice that my eyes were no longer on Him.
My heart was cold. And I did not know why. All I knew was that I had some vague memories of days when I was consumed by a love for God, days when I could weep with joy at His goodness, at His closeness.
But no more. That must have been my youth, I figured. I must be a good, responsible adult now. I must have a good job. I must justify my existence on this planet by serving others. I must pull my weight, and make ends meet . . I must . . . I should . . .
In some hidden recess of my heart I could feel nudges of the truth of my old self peeking through. But I resigned myself to this new, practical version of me.
Until now. Until this week when I accepted the nudgings and listened to the persistent voice of my God. Of the God I have always known as Abba, Father. Of the God who delights in closeness, and who wants me to know that depth of love for Him.
I have spent the week with a sense of an awakened love affair, floating in that in-love feeling. That said, I am well aware that feelings such as this can come and go. But for now it is enough for me to know that He is faithful in answering prayers, that I am indeed His beloved, and that He is mine.
This photo is one that I snapped this afternoon, on sunset walk during which I was explaining these feelings to a dear friend. As we walked, and as I jabbered on, I suddenly paused and, noticing her beauty as the sun shone on her profile, I warned her that I just had to capture it—she kindly obliged ☺

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