Her Broken wing

I haven’t been able to figure out why I feel a certain way lately. You ever have a disconcerting undercurrent that just keeps you on edge. It feels kind of like you need to say something but forgot what it was. You can’t let it go because it’s right there–always. I have been feeling this way for some time. But praises to God, I figured it out today. It’s like finding an itch and scratching the daylights out of it…. Ahhh…

OK, maybe not quite that dramatic.

I tried to remember when it all started. I recollect it starting after I left work  (so abruptly and painfully) so that has been some time ago. I  felt like I had unfinished business.

What was it?

I remembered back to when I was a child (why do we always go back to the childhood stuff—amazing any of us made it out alive)…my mom opened the door and there I stood, dripping in blood — I had been beaten up. “Neighborhood boy” … I have a mouth now and I had a mouth back then. Apparently, he did not like being called a “sissy girl.” Never challenge the masculinity of the male species at any age. I think he was like ten at the time. I told my mom to go beat him up. I was hysterically trying to explain what happened. I might as well have said Aliens landed and replaced my brain. It wasn’t working. To my shock and dismay, she beat spanked the ever-living-bajezee’s out of me for getting in a fight. This would be the first of many of my heart wounding moments as I call them.

My heart eventually went into a long period of cardiac arrest of the spiritual kind. It would take a miracle to  bring it back to life.

By the grace of God, I grew into a young adult. I married. As you would expect, I married someone to fix the tribulations in my life (or so I thought). I did not know any better or any other life so I endured the pattern I had been accustomed to.

The message then…the message now

They did not fight for me…

Something must be terribly wrong with me. Horribly wrong. Another kick to my already ceased heart beat.

And then my eyes saw and ears heard…

The thunder roll, lightening split the darkened skies and sleeping lions roar, as Jesus stood there at the door in His bloodied garment full of sin. His Father cried as His Son said…“I fought for them, Dad”

And my ceased heart began to beat… through CPR (Christ Partakes of my Ransom)

His Dad said, “Now bring them Home, Son.”

His Daughter…

This entry was posted on March 28, 2010 at 3:26 am and is filed under Uncategorized with tags Faith, Hope, journey. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.