Journals Unplugged: Calloused Heart

2-26-18

            God, I am tired.

            Tired of forgiving. Tired of waiting. Tired of pursuing and reaching out with no return. Tired of feeling not good enough. Tired because I don’t get enough sleep because there aren’t enough hours in a day. Tired of getting behind. Tired of satan’s stupid antics attacking the girls. Tired of girl drama around boys. Tired of secrets and lies. Tired of having no one pursue me, no man to find me enchanting, captivating, beautiful. Tired of giving. Tired of being a mom to those who take me for granted. Tired of failing at being a good mom. Tired of responsibility. Tired of so much resting on my shoulders. Tired of no money coming in. Tired of T’s drama and the pain she brings. Tired of this world. Of myself. Just…tired.

But Mother Teresa says, “Don’t think that love, in order to be genuine, needs to be extraordinary. What we need is to love without getting tired.”

Mother T calls me out and wins me over again. :) 

3-22-18

            Abba, I am hurting about T. How could nearly ten years come to this? It seems like somehow a tease that she showed up for 2 weeks in a row (after not seeing her once for 6 months), so set on real help, rehab, and waiting to rebuild relationships with me and the kids – and then NOTHING. Gone, disappeared. No communication. Help me deal with the pain and not just ignore it. Heal her. Wherever she is, touch her, Jesus.

4-2-18

            I don’t know how to heal from T. I don’t understand myself. I’m not angry at her anymore, but Sarah described it best: calloused. I have a calloused heart.

            Callous: skin becoming hard as a rock due to being exposed to too much friction or exerted pressure

            It’s been almost ten years since I first met her; ten years of friction which has finally hardened into a protective layer over my heart. I can’t feel. I look at her picture, and I feel nothing. I look at her kids, and I don’t see her anymore. Or perhaps, it’s that I don’t want to see her, I don’t want to see the callous.  

            -hardened, insensitive, indifferent, thickened

           

            To get rid of callouses, you soak your feet in hot water and scrape the dead skin with a pumice stone. Repeat and be patient.

-->             So how do I soak my heart? How do I scrape my head of all these negative thoughts? I need to immerse myself in Spiritual Waters. Jesus, soak me. I need to scrape away the hard, stubborn, insensitive thoughts. Jesus, purify me. Make my heart soft as clay in your Hands. If I remain in your hands, I can never be hardened. I can never be broken; instead I’ll be constantly remolded, reworked, restored. 

Journal Unplugged: The Lost Ship and the Lighthouse

Journal Entry 2-12-18

            Oh the agony. The anger. I was bitter, burdened, a bomb waiting to explode. I chose Christ, but this cross is too heavy. Let it be a symbol of Victory, not a source of pain. I suffer. I ache. I cry. I fear. Then You say, “Arise, and do not be afraid.”

            A lighthouse. Waves crashing against it. Satan incited the sea to war against the stone platform of the lighthouse. No storm, no amount of rain, no force of a hurricane can stop the light. The lighthouse shines on, for the Builder’s glory. The Builder’s heart. The hear that desires every ship to reach safely home. The Builder uses the lighthouse every night and day, to bring her home. Her, the wanderer. The wanton heart, the wanting heart. She lands her ship but never stays long. Too safe. Too many memories. Too confusing. She sets off again and again but no matter how far out she gets, she can never bury the light. No matter how many left turns, the light is always in the distance, showing her that she can make it right.

            The Builder climbs the tower every night, searching for the lost ship. Those on the island think he’s gone mad. But he continues to search anyway. He continues to fix the lighthouse when it starts to wear and tear. When it gets tired of disappointment and wants to keep the light for itself. The Builder always makes it stronger.

            Jesus, I am that lighthouse. You are the Builder. Fix me that I may shine for you. Remembering that it’s not about me or her, but about your heart for us.

            Complete the work you have started in me for her. Bring it to completion and let me rejoice with you at her homecoming.