Heartbeat

Here I am, encapsulated by the cocoon of the night. It is safe, here. It is honest, here. Even as I escape from all that I cannot face, there is a reluctant, relieving emission of truth in the cool air that drifts through the nearby window.

Here is my haven, when I stop hiding.

Here I am, broken and bleeding. And yet, too, here I am, more resilient than I thought possible. And this unexpected strength,

it doesn't come from me.

I know that.

There is a quiet hand holding me up. I sense the gentle kiss of healing, a healing that I did not believe in yesterday, a healing that I do not deserve. Still, I am given it. A gift. And in these quiet whispers, there is a powerful undercurrent of fierce love.

Love that comes through the arms that hold me when I feel ready to break. In the apologies of loved ones. In the broken looks. It even comes from the damaged words.

And this love, I find it in the open sky. The breeze that makes me feel beautiful. The lapping waves on the iridescent lake, as I sit against a tree and cry at dusk.

It comes to find me even when I run away. As my Bible sits dusty. As my heart wanders further than ever before. As I roll my eyes. As I embrace depression, apathy, and hopelessness. Giving into irritability, cruelty, and bitterness.

As the darkness comes the swallow me,
love comes rising up.

Love from Someone I haven't seen yet. Sent from someone who knows me far better than I know him. He's the one who never gives up on me, even as I give up on myself. This is the one I wish to be captivated by.

Jesus. Are you there?

I don't want to be here if I can't be with you.