I've been breathing in deeply for the past two weeks, and not just because of the crisp air of the Pacific Northwest. God's been breathing new life into my dry bones as I learn to depend on Him more and allow Him to love me through His people. Even though my crap sneaks into my luggage and unavoidably travels with me wherever I go, the time away still gave my heart a bit of a reprieve.
The rolling waves on the pebbly beach resounded His faithfulness. Whispers of love and syllables of support spoke His heart to mine. I felt His compassion in long, tight hugs and gentle touches. The city lights reminded me that He cares about even the little things.
I saw Him and heard Him and felt Him. And I was made aware again that He sees and knows and cares.
While I hate this place I find myself in---my own personal black hole that seems to render me invisible, slow my heartbeat, and make it impossible to see a way out---I know He's in it with me. Sometimes it's so dark I can't see Him. Sometimes it's so quiet, I can't hear Him. Sometimes it's so hollow and lonely, I can't feel Him. In those moments, I know it will be a miracle if I come out the other side of this.
And I know that if I do, I definitely won't come out standing.
Because I'll be in His arms.