The Interlude

Who I Am…

I spent the morning in tears as I do most days. I’ve fought so hard to get out of this place – into a lighter and more joyful mindset. But maybe I’m not meant to. The Bible says there is a time for mourning. Although I remember Angie teaching me that it’s a 3-day process when we have to let something die. On the 3rd day we have to put it behind us and move on.

I’ve looked at the past for so long as my morning routine because I have felt like the pieces behind me have to be somehow fixed before I can build new pieces. I want my foundation to be good soil – not filled with anger and strife and unforgiveness. And I’ve prayed for so long the same prayers over and over again with no change. I got to a point to where I felt like God doesn’t hear me or answer my prayers anymore. But I know that’s not true because every once in awhile I’ll get a really big win.

I feel like the main reason I ask for so much is because I need those things in order to remember who I am. When all the roles and titles I’ve worn have been stripped away piece by piece with each person who reverenced that version of me, I feel naked and confused. I don’t really know what I am if there’s no one left to tell me.

I’ve been a daughter and a mom. I’ve been many roles in business. I’ve been a villian, a victor, a healer and a saint. I’ve been a sinner and a witch and a warrior and I’ve been the wounded. I’ve been a throw-away and the abandoned. I’ve been an angel and a fantasy. And now, I’m just here – without anymore roles.

I have breath in my lungs and blood pumping through my veins. But I have nothing I’m meant to do. I have no function to anyone anymore. So does that mean I exist but have no more reason to exist? And if that’s true, then what am I to make of this life now? Have I always just been the sum of my current emotion?

In joy I have become joy and in pain I have become the pain. In confusion I have become confusion. In love I became love. But in all I’ve ever been, I was transformed by the desires of hearts of others. Whatever they needed, longed for or called in from the heart, I answered the call and became that for them. 

And in my final act, I became the corpse. I guess that’s what they needed most – the ones I’ve loved. They needed a place to place their anger and disappointments. They needed someone to blame and to hate and a punching bag to help get the darkness out of them. And it wasn’t fun – this role I played. But I suppose if I gave them what they needed, then even in the most painful moments of this life, I have remained one thing above all – I was love. And so I did what love would do. I accepted, I absorbed and I let it be.

So now as I am full of these things – like the lips that suck the venom out of another and swallows it all. What does love do next? Well I suppose she dies and then is covered in stones. She disappears and takes with her all of the pain and shame she willingly accepted.

But I am not the author. I’m just a girl sitting in the interlude waiting on the curtains to open again where I will learn what the Lord has determined will be my fate. I am just the pot. He is the potter. I hope he has a good scene in store for me next. But if he doesn’t well then, I guess he has a reason for that too.

Jesus is enough.