I open the link and begin to read….someone is sharing something deep. It’s fresh in the light after years of being hidden, a sort of tragedy of life and choice, an opening of self for others to witness the moment, their moment when their life was cut and shattered. It reminds me of my moment… fear black and thick like tar and everywhere. The scene where innocence was spilled, their innocence, my innocence and in that moment after years of scraping to find out the truth without even knowing there was truth, feeling all alone, nothing but a shell of a human body holding only a tape recorder playing over and over the verses of reproach and retaliation… lies written as prose and poetry trying to make a rhythm that was never written for me but someone had decided needed to be played in my presence and tried to put my name on it. Then in that moment with the darkness and the stench of my own choices… There… who knew? I was given the same amount of Grace and Salvation as all the others. He wasn’t counting my mistakes, He wasn’t holding out on me…He was however plowing the pit before me so I could find Him.
It is an intense, time stand still, breaking of yoke and bondage, life giving and earth shattering tell all of a moment when life was forever brought back…..I read these tragic stories of heart and soul, feeling like I’m there with them in the depths before the light comes to warm us and seeing that first gasp of air brought deep into the lungs, eyes wide wondering if it will be enough to sustain…if there will be enough time to take another gasp before the thickness comes back.
I feel stretched. you see I don’t have one tragic detail or choice but many. My muse wasn’t just drugs, sex, abortions, rebellion, betrayal and years of wasted time..it was all of those things and probably more. But the scarlet secret hidden behind vulnerability and abandonment of the fear of man is that it doesn’t matter the list how short or long, magnitude of or deceptive level of wrong, what matters is the transformation and testimony that gives glory to Jesus. You see the breath is important…it is used to speak of it….all of it. So I will continue to share ALL that He did for me and ALL the mess I got myself into because hiding it even one part steals from the beauty of the air and the breath that was brought down from way up high just for me…my story, His story, our story. It matters. They all matter. Keep on telling them, in your way, in your words. No fear of man. No record players. Only dirty hearts saved with clean hands, beating again…..with our surname engraved with the blood of the one who died for us, in The Book of Life, forever more.