Reaching. Pressing.

This page blurs a little. My eyes burn from tears. I pray with David, “Lord, all my desire is before You; And my sighing is not hidden from You.” Morning rises, and I sit here, empty before the Lord. Honestly, no joy. No anything, just empty. I have my phone voice, my fake voice, my smile, but on the inside I am spent. Only I cannot hide this from my Maker. And it’s a relief to be fully known by One, to be this open.  Lord, it’s a relief not to have to pretend anything with You.

Roses thrown down, crushed. You were thrown down and crushed. And I’m learning the best way to know You, is to have fellowship in Your sufferings. And if I have food for only one day, strength for only one day, love enough for others for only one day, then let me live this day well. Let me at all costs know You and the power of Your resurrection, the fellowship of Your sufferings, being conformed to Your death. Who said dying to self wouldn’t be bloody?

^{Ephesians 3:12-14} Not that I have already attained, or am already perfected; but I press on, that I may lay hold of that for which Christ Jesus has also laid hold of me. ¹³ Brethren, I do not count myself to have apprehended; but one thing I do, forgetting those things which are behind and reaching forward to those things which are ahead, ¹⁴ I press toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.

I close my eyes and they burn still, dry and hot. Lord, help me to forget what lies behind. Only reach forward. I remembered I’d read this verse with the kids a few weeks ago. I sent them traipsing around the room backwards. I asked, “Is it easy to walk around this way?”  I pictured God watching me, like a little ant foolishly scurrying around backwards. I still walk around facing my past.

Reaching forward to those things which are ahead. Not simply moving forward, but reaching. Reaching to You, the prize of my calling.  Reaching to You, who shows me a love story-- all others pale. Reaching to You, who loved me enough to suffer for my soul. To suffer for me, even if I were the only one.

Lord, help me press into You, my Future, not the past.

Lord, help me reach to You. Reach to me, my heart, be the peace I seek.

May Your work on the cross be the only past I seek out, the crossroads where my life and Yours intersected. May You be my trail guide; no backtracking. May I choose each step carefully, light the path with Your word. Press forward, step over the crushed roses. Hold my hand tightly. I’m scared of the dark.

Isaiah 35:10

And the ransomed of the LORD shall return,
      And come to Zion with singing,
      With everlasting joy on their heads.
      They shall obtain joy and gladness,
      And sorrow and sighing shall flee away.