Tonight...

For the longest time there have been no words.

But tonight, my heart is full...painfully full. So full I hurt because I can't grasp it all. It came at once, like a dam which had finally been broken and the raging waters behind released.

So many things...so many. How can I even put it into words? How can you take a searching, yearning, and breaking heart and attempt to harness it with simple letters? A daunting task, even for the most poetic and skilled among us.

There's a deep longing which slowly tears apart my heartstrings, wanting something so much more. It's a rich pain; no, more of an acute ache, really. Even among the joy and contentment I've found I'm being slowly ripped in two. Yes three, four, a thousand pieces.

The Holy Spirit calls, and sifts, and changes, and yet my heart pulls here and pulls there. Oh to sort it all, to know what's right and what's wrong. To know where I'm being led and to discern where the doors are being firmly sealed.

My heart feels open and raw. It's worn from being ripped in so many directions, weary of trying to hold itself together. It doesn't know what to follow, doesn't know where to give, where to trust, where to change, where to stay, where to go, where to run.

It wants to give, give every single piece that it has. But I find the recipient so often is wrong. My heart is so unreliable, untrustworthy, and so very deceptive. 

Slowly the pain from the stupid choices builds up, like the dust which slowly accumulates on a shelf. You don't realize at first, until that moment when you suddenly see the ugly, nasty grime which you've allowed to accumulate on the surface.

My heart is strong, with a will even I lack the ability to control. It fights with vigor and persistence, until that moment; when the weight is just too much, and it cracks beneath the suffocating pain.

Then it explodes, so fast that even tears cannot keep up. My mind can't understand, and all I possibly have the strength for is to lay there in the midst of the tornado until it passes.

It will leave damage in it's wake, because I was too stupid to evacuate when the warning bells were wrung.

And it's there, when I'm left in the wreckage and debris with less than nothing left to claim, that I'm found. That's when the Holy Spirit comes behind, slowly rebuilding something stronger from the disaster of my heart that lays among the ruins.

So come, hurricane. Come, tornado. Break me over and over again, until there's not a shred of myself left. Destroy me, wreck me, splinter me into more than a million pieces. Oh yes, break me. Display for me, in your crystal-clear aftermath, that I'm weak and incapable, stupid, strong-headed, proud, stubborn, wandering, aimless, hopeless, and in dire need.

That. I'm. Lost.

For where I am lost, there also can I be found again.  

And He promises to find me.