Burned

   There are words that leave the mouth with a light tone, or a serious intonation, but that taste bitter as they are swallowed by the speaker, and the bitterness stays, held back, till it burns and burns, searing the heart of the mouth that said them. Words that are not accusations, but that acknowledge a truth. Words that can a promise, where the promise itself is bitterness. Words such as "I will not let my little sister anywhere near my father. I promise you." Words that say I love them both, and yet acknowledge that I cannot trust him, I cannot expect truth or help, no hope, from him.
    There are words that enter the ear, hit the mind, ringing true and yet worn, yet sear onto the heart, pressing each burning word and trying to write over it, but only burning more shapes onto the seared flesh. "It is what it is. Don't make mountains out of molehills. Deal with it." Words that tell me I am weak for whimpering, that I am foolish for feeling despair.
   God, God, where are you? Abba, Father I can always trust, where are you?

Meet me in this broken place
Hold me now
I need to feel You
Show me how
to make it new again
There’s no one I can run to
And nothing I could ever do
I’m nowhere if I’m here
without You

Even if You take it all away
I’ll wait for You
Even when the light begins to fade
I’ll wait for You
I’m so desperate calling out Your name
Meet me in this broken place

Hold me now
I need to feel You
Show me how
to make it new again
There’s no one I can run to
And nothing I could ever do
I’m nowhere if I’m here
without You

I’m tired of running
and wrestling with these angels
I lay down
my life and I surrender

Hold me now
I need to feel You
Show me how
to make it new again
There’s no one I can run to
And nothing I could ever do
I’m nowhere if I’m here
without You

---Ashes Remain, "Without You"

Yet, even laying on the floor, weeping, hands open, listening, listening to words that do not burn, but that cry the tears that cause the burning to ease, little by little, God gave hope.

Not enough. Not enough to help me breath easily; not enough to give me strength to face the morning. But the morning is not here, and that was enough, that was enough to hope, enough strength to cease the sobs to blow my nose and write, wiping away filth and working to write words that reflect truth.

But its not enough for tomorrow.

Tomorrow is not here yet.

Tonight, God, help me, for the throbbing of burned flesh has ceased, but the scars remain, and ooze the promise of an unbearable tomorrow. I cannot cease crying inside, trying to say the words do not burn, they build, build a truth that gives me a place to stand tomorrow, that centers me in a broken reality. The burns were just turning dross to ashes, and leaving my heart refined into gold…please, God, let there be gold. After that searing, I need to know tomorrow this will be redeemed.

I need to know you held every tear. God, I wish I wasn't like this, that it was enough you gave me strength to get up from the floor, that I trusted enough to not ask you why things that burn so badly, so deeply, for ten and a half years, have seared my soul again and left not gold but ashes, only ashes remain, that and the hope that seems so frail against the tomorrow I face.

Tomorrow, with a grumpy family, a hurting sister who has been left out, a grandmother four hours away that I may need to go drive to a hospital, a trip over the next weekend given up despite the prayer for it, and words that echo into my life that I am foolish and unhelpful, tomorrow, where I will have to cover my burns with a skin of strength and pray to God that He will heal, I need to know this hope will last, that you are refining my wayward heart into golden life that will overflow into the burns and bitterness of those around me. Your kingdom come, Father, who has always been the only foundation, the only strength, the only comfort in life and death, your kingdom come. God, I am unfit, and the part of me that knows my sin cries out for more burning, for me to take whatever burns and watch you mold me for a kingdom my selfish steps would never stay in now. But God, I can only say that by your grace, and I have not wisdom enough to know enough, how much, how to endure, or how to say grace from God, thanks from my heart, for a life that has flowers of gold made from fire and life abundant from tears of need. Tomorrow, God, and tonight…God, let me leave my burned heart in your hands, and my wearied life in the pattern of your plans, and say nothing but thank you.

For hope for tonight.

For strength for tomorrow.

For tears that ease the burns.

For the promise of a crown of gold from the cross of today.

For your faithfulness, which turns that promise into certainty.

For healing in the hands of a merciful God.

For words that burn, that remind me truth is not a book to be put down but a sword that scars.

For the flame that refines even through the clumsy words of your people.

For all you are, all you've done, and all that is yet to come, tomorrow or burning tonight, for thy grace and wisdom, I give thanks.

Amen.