I posted on Facebook yesterday how terrifying it is to truly start over. Not in life, per se, but inside. After countless losses, deep wounds and the transitioning out of who I have always known myself to be, there are days I can barely recognize the woman in the mirror. She looks familiar, and yet so foreign.
It feels as though God has allowed my entire puzzle to be shaken out on the floor. He occasionally puts a piece or two together, but there is no box with an image to keep in mind, so I wait anxiously to see where the pieces will all fall. Only God knows now who He is crafting me to be. The old me has lost long-held-to-dreams, vision, dreams, relationships, expectations and beliefs. Physical manifestations of stress plague my health and sleep. The very core of who I have been, and who I thought God was designing me to be, has been radically altered and I am left with more questions than answers.
Tired. Disenchanted. Clinging to a wee bit of hope that normalcy will return…I long to feel whole again.
I think of David. Of Job. Mary. Jonah…those in the bible who were brought to their end, only to be rebuilt again by the love and grace of our God. My heart longs for restoration.
Where I lack vision, He has a plan. In my weakness, He sends fellow prayer warriors and His Holy Spirit. When I am tired, refreshing comes in quiet moments. When faith wanes, He patiently waits.
For years I longed for the waves to stop crashing against my “house,” and now that they have stopped, the damage is beyond what I had initially believed. BUT, the great architect is at work – in the drawing room He pours over every detail, starting with rebuilding the foundation. What has been stripped away will be replaced, of this I have great hope. Like an old dresser, I am being sanded, smoothed and primed, with the fresh paint not yet seen, there is promise in His new vision.
Wherever you are today, know that you are not alone. None of us ever is. Hand over the reigns and let the builder, build. Stripped and all…