2010 has been a year of losses. The loss of a life within my womb and a once-treasured relationship, the painfully slow process of transitioning after a major move are just a few–but certainly the most difficult. To say this year has been hard seems like an understatement. I am wearing the scars of a ravaged heart that a select few people know the details about.
A few months ago as summer turned to fall, a prophetic word was spoken over our congregation of the necessity of death to occur in order for beauty to come forth. The leaves were changing and the impression on this man’s heart was that we must die in order for the beauty of Christ to be glorious in our lives.
Perhaps (and probably) many others were ministered to by this prophetic word that morning. But it has carried me. It was a bittersweet word from the Lord that followed an encounter with the Lord in June.
You see, I am not only looking over the remains of a wrecked heart. In those broken, damaged places, I see Hope beginning to fill the cracks, binding the wounds, serving as a cornerstone. Like spray foam insulation that expands and has the potential to bulge the walls of a home, so hope is beginning to pad and insulate my heart.
I am learning that these difficult things I experience, such as desires left unfulfilled and hope deferred in this life, I must experience in order to truly grasp what Hope really is. It’s more than saying I trust Him, looking forward to the day when I see Jesus face to face.
It is knowing, in every crack and crevice—that is in every crack and crevice of my heart, Hope Himself. Really tasting, experiencing, seeking and receiving sustenance through Him and nothing else.
And yet as I write this, I realize that I am only beginning to know and understand Him who is Hope.
It has required letting go of so much, that, as real as I seek to be, I’m not ready to share of here.
I don’t know what 2011 will hold. But I do know that despite the pain I have experienced this year, the countless tears that He has bottled–if it means knowing Him more deeply, I (think) I am ready to embrace more heartache.
Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want it. I want what comes from experiencing it.
For I know the plans I have for you, declares the LORD, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope. Jeremiah 29:11
This post was beautiful, Kelly. I held a baby boy today that is the same age as my little Adam would have been had he survived the womb. It was so bittersweet, and I have been struggling all evening to process this joyful melancholy. What a timely encouragement. Thank you for sharing.
Learning to rely on the Lord…
Kristy