Recently, a friend and I were having a heartfelt talk when suddenly she said, “Let your love out, Hope.” Hmm, I thought to myself, what have I been doing up to now? What does it say about you, or your capacity to love when your friends think you’re holding back during a heart-to-heart discussion no less? I was all in, at least I thought I was. I felt that annoying little lump in my throat when I started getting really personal, but … ahem … I choked that down pretty quick …. Oooooh, now I get it!
Do you have anyone in your life with whom you can just uncork the fermenting emotions you have bottled up so well? I thought I was free of that need to control how deep I allowed myself to go, and I thought I was being pretty authentic; looks like not everyone was in agreement. There is nothing, nothing more important than love and I am often reminded that it does more harm than good to suppress it.
Honestly, I detest thinking that I’m like one of those bottles of aged wine you think you’re about to have a nice glass of when suddenly, you end up pushing the cork down too far! What is it that seems to drive that cork further down with age? Past experience perhaps? Fear?
I recently spent the day with two of my favourite little girls. There we were – sitting together, bird watching, drawing with pastels and chatting – outside of my own head, outside of my fears – I was completely present with Carla and Ané – completely present, living in the moment – and loving them as if there was no risk involved…because there was not.
So, what is it about spending time with adults that make some of us hold back – living in the regret or trauma of the past – living in fear of more of the same in the future? Don’t think for a minute that children don’t get their feelings hurt. Don’t think for a minute that their little hearts don’t get broken from time to time. Don’t think for a minute that the people they love most in the world have never done wrong by them; I have children – I’ve seen them hurting. The difference between child-like love and loving as a adult is the dwelling factor. Children don’t dwell on the past and certainly don’t look at the past as a threat to their future. Children love with all they have. That’s why Yeshua (Jesus) told people that being child-like in love is the only way to greatness (spiritual and earthly success):
3 “Truly I say to you, unless you repent (change, turn about) and become like little children [trusting, lowly, loving, forgiving], you can never enter the kingdom of heaven [at all]. 4 Whoever will humble himself therefore and become like this little child [trusting, lowly, loving, forgiving] is greatest in the kingdom of heaven.” Matt. 18:3-4 Amp.
I have an abundance of love inside me. It takes up a lot of room and sometimes I’m sure that cork just wants to pop off, but I unknowingly keep pushing it down. Then, there are times – like when I’m with Carla and Ané – it just leaks out. It’s bigger than I am. True greatness and success is to let it out freely, without reservation, without judgment, without fear, without almighty pride holding us back.
The thing about loving adults is that there is always the possibility that you’ll be hurt or rejected, but that is never reason enough to hold it back. Children love the way God loves … unconditionally …. with no agenda … no owzies… and they do it fearlessly. It’s so important that Yeshua said it 5 times in the Gospel of John. “This is My commandment: that you love one another [just] as I have loved you.” John 15:12 AMP.
If you’re afraid of being hurt or rejected, chances are you’re afraid of loving. The truth is, if you haven’t already, you will be hurt, but you won’t die from it. Let your love out – it’s commanded of you.
When we find ourselves calling upon God to rescue us from the furnace of affliction what we’re really doing is asking Him to save us from an opportunity whose primary function is to bring Him glory and secondary function is to inspire growth in us.
I never find myself asking Him to remove circumstances from my life when they suit me. When things are humming along I’m likely at my happiest though I rarely learn anything in these situations. I guess you could call that “blissful ignorance” and it’s safe to say that I don’t bring much glory to God because my focus becomes self-centred. Candidly speaking, it seems that the longer things go well, the less grateful I am. Why? Because the condition of my spirit begins to degrade – in the Old Testament days that is what they called a “hardened heart”. How many people really spend much time on their knees in worship, praise, prayer and thanksgiving when things are going splendidly?
Then there are those times – when I am being pulled out of the furnace that it seems to me I’m most grateful. It all has to do with mindset – where my focus is – and it’s usually on myself and my comfort rather than God and His promises for my life.
But here’s something new I’d like to try on, (did I just say that?). What would you say if I told you that the best place to practice gratitude is actually in the furnace of affliction? So, why am I not filled with gratitude when God stokes the fire a little? I know that every moment I spend in the furnace results in a spiritual upgrade, but for some reason – the “old man” in me seems to have the ability to resurrect itself when the coals begin to turn red.
Yahweh was in the furnace with Abednego, Meshach Shadrach, but since then He has made atonement for us, He is in us in the furnace – with all-conquering power and glory. Before we even step in there, He knows what the outcome will be and He invites us to come into the fire. I have, on occasion, bowed down to fear rather than accept His invitation.
It’s all in the mindset – like Joshua and Caleb who believed and saw the promise of God while the other ten spies needed see in order to believe. Glory is achieved in the furnace – His and ours. Daniels’ friends stepped into the furnace full on and later came out refreshed and with an attitude of gratitude. God is in our circumstances – we belong with Him.
“No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.” Romans 8:37-39 NIV.
Many people believe that being alone and being lonely are synonymous. In fact, they are not. Being alone is a choice one makes; being lonely – for the most part – is not. I am an introvert and I enjoy being alone – I like and quite look forward to solitude. I don’t enjoy being lonely. I have had an extensive amount of experience in this area. Some of my lovely, and well-meaning friends and family members have often recommend that I join groups and find things to do as a means of meeting other people. Joining an organization – such as a gym, or joining a bowling league, for example – are activities. Being lonely is not always related to an absence of activities. Being lonely doesn’t necessarily indicate an absence of loving family members or friends.
I am not a member of the Lonely Heart’s Club. My opinions don’t represent the opinions of all the lonely people in the world; I can only speak for myself. Being lonely is a heart condition. I have been (many times) in rooms filled with people who truly care about me and the feelings are reciprocated – yet I have – many of these times – felt lonely and alone and hopeless. For some, myself included, that can be a dangerous place to be for too long a period.
Loneliness is accompanied by a persistent ache, whose description is almost impossible to put into words. It’s like a cancer looming in the soul of your existence. Oh, sure it might seem to go into remission from time to time but then you wake up one day and just know it’s back. Each time it returns you sure it’s here to stay this time. It wants your life. You don’t know why it’s here, but it hurts so very much – no one can possibly understand your pain. Some even say, “But you’re so lucky. You’re so blessed. You should be happy”…. They haven’t been there. They don’t understand. There is something significant to be said when a person can examine the exterior of another’s life and determine that, because they are blessed, suffering has been taken off the table.
If you are suffering, I want you to know that I have been there and I do understand. If you think, even for a moment, that ending your life will solve this problem … I’m writing to you specifically.
There was a time in my life when the pain of loneliness was so great that even the love of my beautiful children could not fill the emptiness that seeped into my thoughts, heart and spirit. All the faking in the world may have fooled others but it never fooled me. It seemed that loneliness was my shadow and the sun exacerbated my pain by shining into my darkness. There were times where it took more energy than I had to keep on, to hope. Hope requires energy … or does it?
Maybe you’ve been in this “place” for so long you have completely given up hope. Can I ask you, since you’re here and reading, can you please just hang on a bit longer? Will you do that for me? I know that we perhaps have never met, but we do know each other. We share a bond and that means that you’re not alone! There are far too many people still suffering, but TRUST me when I say, there are many who were able to move past this. There is hope. There IS hope.
It may seem that hope requires too much energy – what it really requires of us is to make a commitment to hang on to all hope, when all hope seems lost. Hanging on does not equate to filling the emptiness with substances or activities such as: shopping, alcohol, relationships, pornography, television, working 12 hours a day or, even exercise done to extremes. Hanging on to hope does not mean waiting for another human being to fill the void. Neither does hanging on to hope mean engaging in the latest methods of “self” improvement; there is nothing “wrong” with you … there’s something missing. While all these things may very well take a temporary bite out of loneliness the problem will always be there unless you find the only thing that fits the void. If you’re searching for a permanent way out of loneliness I can assure you that the hole inside you right now will be felt for next to eternity, by those who love you, if you leave this world before trying to fill your own with a living and perpetual hope.
By design, we came into being with an emptiness, a void, a hole in our spirits. Our Creator fits into that hole. He longs to fill that emptiness in you. He longs to complete you. He is kind and loving and waits for an invitation. He will not bulldoze His way into your heart. Call on Him. He will answer. I guarantee it. He answered me and I was no one special, but I am now because His hope lives in me. Please, call His name. He is our Hope – the author and finisher of our faith.
“We wait in hope for the Lord; He is our help and our shield. In Him our hearts rejoice, for we trust in His Holy name,” Psalm 33:20
“Blessed is he whose help is the God of Jacob, whose hope is in the Lord his God, the Maker of heaven and earth, the sea, and everything in them – the Lord, who remains faithful forever,” Psalm 146:5-6
“Show me your ways, Lord, teach me your paths. Guide me in your truth and teach me, for you are God my saviour, and my hope is in you all day long,” Psalm 25:5-6
I was breathless, but not out of breath. In some ways it seemed like the culmination of my adventure – something tugged at my soul – something I didn’t understand, but was about to. I knew it was just the beginning, perhaps the end of one journey but the start of a passage, an understanding, the fulfillment of a promise. I felt understood. I felt loved. Purpose was speaking to me, calling me out of the shell I had survived in. I felt like a flower, opening up for the first time. Someone was looking into me, seeing me, seeing in me what I never saw in myself. The unveiling of hope was revealing itself to me. I laid down in the grass. It was covered in dew, but I welcomed it. It made me feel alive. My spirit was alert as if it had heard something I hadn’t – a concerto playing for me, written for me and only me. It felt like a new beginning.
She wrapped herself in the grass. The dew caressed her with the tears of my love; the joy of my heart enveloped her. She lavished in it. It was refreshing. It was a moment I couldn’t interrupt. She’d come. This very moment inevitable. That’s why she had made the journey. I could wait a little longer; I sent my song of love to her, carried on the wings of the birds. My heart swelled at the fullness of love that was emergent in her. She had never dreamed of this kind of love and I wanted nothing more than give her everything I had to give. Gratitude began to fill and surround her – she would never know fully that it was I who was grateful that she embraced the gift I gave her – it was in the giving that love grew.
I felt satisfied and grateful as if the greatest gift had been bestowed upon me. It was in those moments that I realized that I had been walking in a shroud of weariness before I set out on this walk, before I came to lay myself beneath the sky. Heaven seemed to be speaking to me. I had never known this comfort. There were no words to express how touched I was. I wanted to stay there in that moment and never let go, but no – there was more to come. I felt strong, yet weak. I didn’t want to move but I felt compelled to get up. It was as if I had found a treasure map and had been relishing in the find of the map and not the treasure. I was overcome by tears. I had never known this kind of joy. Something was growing inside me.
She picked herself up and began to walk in my direction, though she hadn’t yet seen me. I knew I would surprise her. I knew she would have doubts and wonder who I was. For a brief instant she would feel unsafe, unsure of herself, unsure of me, but it wouldn’t last. It was me she had set out to encounter when she began the journey. Ah, she noticed me. I pretended not to notice her, to give her time to process what she was feeling and thinking. Her mind was cautious. Her heart was intrigued. Her spirit knew me. Her spirit recognized me. Everything inside me wanted to run to her, to pick her up in my arms and hold her, to melt away every little bit of pain and doubt, to answer every question, but I knew I had to move slowly. I had to let her come to me and she would, sooner rather than later. The course had been set; she was already out of the starting blocks. She wasn’t about to turn back now.
I saw him sitting beneath the willow tree, on the bank of the river that had been calling me. My spirit longed to approach him, but my mind was tentative. Who was he? Why was he there? Was he waiting for me? He hadn’t noticed me. I was glad. I wasn’t sure about what to do next. Should I keep walking to the river? Should I say hello? Something inside me kept telling me that he had been waiting for me all this time. My heart was intrigued. Was it a coincidence that he just happened to be sitting there? I had never seen him before yet there was something about him. Outrageous thoughts began to overtake me. I wanted him to run to me, to hold me in his arms. He had this look about him – this ‘je ne sais quoi’ – something alluring, something enticing and appealing, that radiated from inside his spirit as if it was connected directly to my own. I couldn’t turn back now.
The decision was made. She walked toward me – tentatively at first. I could hear her heartbeat. She didn’t know it yet, but it was beating for me. It had always beaten for me as mine had for her. She wanted me to turn my head toward her, to meet her gaze but at the same time she was reticent. I respected that. I could wait a few moments more, although nothing inside me wanted to wait any longer. The earth sounded her approach to me. I looked into the water, restraining myself from jumping to my feet. She would know the exact moment of truth because I would tell her – I would tell her from my spirit to hers, “Come to me. Come to me.”
Even had I wanted to turn back, my feet would not allow it. They had charge over my entire body. My heart beat so loudly; it resonated through the ground. I was sure he could hear me coming. I was glad, but I was tentative. He was looking upon the water. Our spirits spoke to each other as I made my descent. His arm reached out slowly, his hand reaching for mine as if it was waiting for me. I heard a small still voice within me whisper, “Come to me. Come to me.” He stood and began to walk in my direction. I didn’t understand why, and I didn’t care. All I knew was that everything inside me wanted to run to him.
She was more resplendent than anything I had ever seen. She was ready. There was nothing more urgent for her than to be in my arms where she belonged. She wanted to run to me. I smiled at her, inviting her to take my hand. This was the moment I had waited for yet it was just the beginning.
He was magnificent. There was nothing left inside me to hold me back – I wanted nothing more than to let go – let go of anything and everything that had ever kept us apart. This was the moment I had waited for. My purpose, the reason for my creation, was unfolding.
She ran into my arms. I held her. I held her so tightly, tightly but gently – reassuringly. I wanted her to be confident in my love. I wanted her to know that, from this point on, I would never let her go. I loved her more than I loved my own life. I would lay it down for her and her alone and I needed for her to know that. I needed for her to understand that. Yet how could she? She was mine, finally. I’ll spend the rest of my days living to show her that I am completely hers.
I wanted him. I needed him. I knew as I began to run toward him that I had found the one I had been looking for. I had found what had been missing, what had kept me from being fully alive. I had no shame. I was spiritually naked before him, hiding nothing. I sensed that he knew more about me than I knew about myself. I felt loved, so loved by him. I knew he would have sacrificed everything, his very life, to express that love. I knew I’d never fully understand. I gave him my heart. I gave him my mind and my soul with every bit of strength I had. I knew, as I stood there, wrapped inside his arms sheltered beneath his wing, that I would spend the rest of my days living to show him that I am completely his.
Oh, I know you’ve spoken to me many a time. I don’t discount any of what you’ve shared, not ever. I realize you’ve shared before, you’ve confessed many things to me. You’ve cried, you’ve told me your dreams and yes, you’ve even told me what frightens you. But last night was different – you know it was too.
Last night you brought tears to my eyes. Somewhere between your disappointment, your fear, and the dreams you’re afraid to dream was your heart – stripped bare and surrendered to me for the first time ever. You spoke to me and then you waited for me to answer and you listened. You really listened! Do you know how long I’ve been waiting to tell you how very much I love you?
You said that you’ve never been able to go to “that place” with me for fear that you’d experience so much emotion that you’d explode, lose control, even die a little inside.
But you went there anyway and you went there with me; you went there for me. You let me in to that place in your heart where only I could fit – a place where the only one ever meant to fit was me. Last night you gave me your heart and I promise I will not break it. You went to the place where I’ve already been for you.
I can’t promise that life will always be fun and filled with laughs, but it sure will be different. No matter what you go through, from now on, whether good or bad – we’ll always be there together. I also can’t promise that you’ll never experience pain again, or that everything you don’t like about your life will be instantaneously changed for the better, but I can promise this: you’ll be transformed – from the inside to the outside. I’ll give you a kind of peace that surpasses any experience you may encounter. I promise that if you follow me, I will always be at your side – always and forever. I heard you.
“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.” Psalm 34:18
Another day has dawned. Tribulation has awakened me from our nocturnal tryst. Sadness clangs its cymbals urging me to rise – it reverberates hopelessness throughout the day. My heart is ripped open, laid bared for what feels like a final viewing. The constant trickle of tears erodes my faith. Pain has seared me. My body roams the earth to and fro searching for what it knows not. I feel alone. Even my mind detests me. Words have stopped my breath; I gasp for air. Loves hides and I seek, but it is elusive. I’m one of many yet I’ve never been so alone. What I know and what I feel clash – striving in different directions. My mind flutters about; I must hang on – one more hour, perhaps minutes. But, as the sun sets so my hope is dashed. Maybe tomorrow? If I can just …
Will I ever get through this? Will this grain of hope sustain me? Will these tears ever stop? Will the enemy of my thoughts relent? Will the ugliness of introspection sojourn in my bed forever? I can’t hear you; God, are you listening?
I have loved you from the beginning. I hold your hand while you sleep and stroke your hair. The tears you cry stain my cheeks as they moisten your pillow. I have never left your side. Your cries to me ring through the heavens – your prayers brought to me, one at a time, on the wings of angels. I whisper in your ear, “Don’t listen to those voices.” You can’t hear me because you listen to the voice of your enemy with great travail. Why do you hold on to the very thing I am trying to remove from your life. Don’t you know how much I love you? Let go. Please trust me. I can take that grain of hope and make a mountain of faith from it, but you must let go of what you’re holding on to. Have I not yet shown you that I am trustworthy? Have you not yet understood that there is nothing you could ever do to make me love you less?
You think I’ve let you down – I don’t listen – I don’t hear your prayers. My precious child, if only you knew how I treasure your petitions and want to give you what you request – but I cannot. I am a loving and faithful father and I promised, from the day I knew you, that I would always do what is best for you. I have protected you from the unimaginable. I have saved you from unspeakable pain, pain that I did not even spare my Son from. The noise of this world is a lament for my love. The hole in your heart is a place that only I can fill. If only you would trust in me, I would give you the peace you need. I am more lonely for you in this very minute than you have ever been for anyone all the days of your life. Turn toward me. No one can love you like I do. Seek me with all your heart and I will give you the desires of yours. I’m listening; are you?