A blog. They're used for lots of things. Mine feels more like a journal. I don't know that I write for an audience. It feels more like I'm writing to someone. I see individuals. Nameless, faceless individuals.
My blog is a place for me. A place where I come to spill some of my cup running over. Other times it's a place where I come to drink. My soul is dry. Or hurting. And somehow in writing I am filled.
I don't expect anyone to listen. To read. I am nothing special as me. But I love Someone very special. And He's done a lot for me. I just want others to now that. I want to sing like a little bird perched high on a branch unaware of others passing by. I want to sing for Him. But my heart prays if anyone is listening it will make them want to know Him too.
This world is a hurting place. It's so hard to watch so many people hurt. But even more when they don't know or won't accept the healing my Friend offers. I want to tell them He loves them. And it's not Him who hurts them. He wants to heal them.
I've hurt too. Sometimes I wonder how much I should share of my journey. It's close to my heart. It's sacred. It's not something I want to lightly display for curious eyes. But I want so bad to tell what He's done. And for others to understand and see that what I say is not cliché. It's real. It's painfully real. It's gut wrenching sobs real. And it's overwhelmed by love real.
The silence between the previous post and this holds much. A story I would have written so differently. A story I many times feared was going to end tragically. But friend, never under estimate Grace. I never thought it would happen, but I can look into His eyes and say, "Thank you."
Oh how do I make you see? What words can I use to paint a picture of the face of Grace? Please look. Close your eyes. And look. Listen. Hear. Please....
So here begins a new chapter in this blog. May I be real. May I never make you think I have something you don't. We have the same Savior. And He is the only thing that makes us anything. I share not because I want to brag. No no. My only wish is for you, dear friend, to know His heart too. To come to the place where you can crawl in His lap. Be wrapped in His arms. In all your broken filthiness. And let Him love you. Oh what that would do!
I owe much of my experience to friends of Grace. Those who have prayed me through the darkness. Held me when I was afraid of His arms. Had faith for me when I had none. Told me again and again what He looked like when I couldn't see. Promised me I would rise again. Told me their stories and shared their healing with me. I just want to be that for somebody else. To speak in my voice His love, hope, forgiveness, patience, and grace and pray that someone needs to hear it in my language.
Welcome to...
The healing place
