Four, five or six months ago I got angry. At church. A kind of fury that made me run, punch, and eloquently and scathingly preach; hurt. My angst took me away, on a journey apart from the Heavenly Water and back into the blinding Sahara.
Feeling abandoned is my thing, when it blankets me in the Light not just the dark all I know is shame, guilt, and anxiety.
Am I not lovable enough?
I feel deeply left behind by my church. My people, my community, I love them and hate them in tandem. Where are they when I need them the most? Do they not recognize me as lost as I slowly vanish into a whisper that no one can hear? Where is my church, my people?
My God, You declare that You do not care about this hurt and anger I feel towards You.
You care about me.
You whisper soft winds blowing the sheer curtains in the wind wide open with Your Love.
I still yell out my anger, my fury, and my scathing words…because it feels like abandonment and abandonment is my thing. But Not by You~
Never by You.
The sun cascades in, warming my face forcing the dichotomy to sync; that Love and hurt can co-exist. Immediately I don’t care if they are not perfect. I am far from perfect, so an unfair expectation has turned my heart into stone and my blood frozen as February.
I realize that they are broken and bonded by a desperate desire to be wanted; just like me.
My body fights back. My Mind slips into the Reckoning. My Heart shakes with fervor to rise above. Because even when the dark loses its light, there You are. In that, I choose to keep my eyes on the Prize. My Prize.
I get ready on a sunny Sunday morning to come running past the doors of anger and into the loving arms of my church.
Stopping in my tracks, I feel a flicker ignite into a raging flame of a dormant fire inside me; my shame explodes. It holds me still, stuck in an avalanche of guilt and fear of the loss of love, because abandonment is my thing. I breathe deep screaming out that I am here, in my own time because I needed a minute to be lonely and angry.
I stare down my reflection in the mirror, push back my head and grow myself tall; forcing shame out because I did leave~ but today I come home.
Joy is miraculously replacing shame. A reunion is on the horizon accompanied by a magnificent celebration in the heavens, as I run back into the loving arms of…my family. I hold my head high as I burst through the doors back into the loving arms of my family, my community; my bridge to You…
The earth shivers in delight, You hold my hand, embrace my journey back as I declare it to be a… A No shame Sunday.
Ami Beth Cross 2.12.22