during the time of which I speak
it was hard to turn the other cheek
to the blows of insecurity.
feeding the cancer of my intellect
the blood of love, soon neglected,
lay dying in the strength of its impurity.

Have you ever had a time in your life where you felt beat down by another’s insecurities? Felt captive to  a cancer that slowly ate away at your sense of self, sense of value and desireable-ness? You watch helplessly as the love in your heart just shrivels up and dies. Your love for yourself, your love for others, perhaps even your love for God. Life seems to unravel at it’s seams… you unravel along with it. Slowly, like rush hour traffic on the 405, your life devolves into a brutal fight for survival. Survival of your own soul. And it doesn’t matter who gets hurt in your attempt to live.

meanwhile the friends we thought were so together
they’ve all gone and left each other
in search of fairer weather

we sit here in our storm and
drink a toast to the slim chance of
love’s recovery

A year of my life was spent in that kind of hell. Life started out like a dream… a budding romance, with flowers, amazing dates and all the excitement and newness of getting to know a new lover. Then the blows began…  I ignored the first few, thinking surely my new lover didn’t mean to hurt me. It was a mistake, an aberration… But the blows didn’t quit. My new lover was insecure.

They were all insecure. I don’t know who started it, or how it all began. And frankly, I don’t care anymore. I just know I walked into what I thought was going to be a great new adventure, and instead found myself in the middle of a mess. A battlefield where neither side trusted me and no one was secure enough in their own selves to know whether they really wanted me on their "side."

It got harder and harder to turn the other cheek to the blows of another’s insecurity… not to mention the blows of my own insecurity that followed each of their blows. I had no where to go. No sanctuary from the arrows that flew. I tried to embrace the reality. Tried to keep my head in the midst of the insanity of battle. But I slid on the all the blood… and fell.

I found myself nearly drowning in a sea of red. Their blood, my blood — it all mixed together. It’s amazing how on a battlefield, you can’t tell the difference between the blood of your "side" and the blood of the "others".

there I am in younger days, stargazing
painting picture-perfect maps
of how my life and love would be.
not counting the unmarked paths of misdirection,
my compass, faith in love’s perfection,
I missed a million miles of road I should’ve seen.

A black cancer grew deep within my soul. A cancer that fed on confusion, frustration, insecurity and unmet expectation. This wasn’t the way it was supposed to be! This wasn’t the way I’d imagined giving my life away for Jesus would look. I didn’t understand why God would allow me to walk blindly into this mess. I cried out to Him.

He answered and met me. Deep intimacy followed. His roots dug deep into my soul, into places I never knew existed, into places I never knew He could reach. His roots took hold — somehow finding rich soil, how I don’t know… or perhaps He created the rich soil as He went… His roots took hold and have never let go. Never. Not even when I hacked at them in my panicked attempts to survive.

Yet the cancer grew. Months passed. Then suddenly confusion and frustration gave way to anger. Embers fanned. Flames burst forth. Clarity… I was a fool. A stargazing fool.

But I’m not an idiot. I  know  who I am. I know what I am and what I’m capable of. And I know who you say I am is not who I am. You don’t know crap. Stay away from me.

Life moved on. Like a dream — or perhaps, more accurately, a nightmare — it suddenly shifted focus and location. New battles raged and more wounds felled my soul. God had lifted me out of the sea of red… only to set me down in a valley where I created my own lake of blood and tears. And still, the cancer raged in my soul. In places I wouldn’t allow God to touch. Like a child who won’t allow her mom to put healing balms on a painful wound, I wouldn’t let God touch my cancer-infected places. It just hurt too much. Like a perfect Lover, He waited. He stayed with me. And waited.

Did He know this time would come? Did He know I would finally be strong enough to say, Cut the cancer out. Do whatever you must do to heal my soul. I believe. I believe You can. I believe You want to. I finally understand my redemption and restoration isn’t just about "someday, when we all get to heaven". I finally get that Your salvation is for here and now. I finally see that You want me to live in perfect Shalom with You now. Bring it on, Jesus. Please. Bring it on.

oh how I wish I were a trinity
so if I lost a part of me
I still have two of the same to live.
but nobody gets a lifetime rehearsal
as specks of dust were universal

so let this love survive
and be the greatest gift
that we could give.

tell all the friends who think they’re so together
that these are ghosts and mirages,
all these thoughts of fairer weather

though its stormy now
I feel safe within the arms of
love’s discovery

Sitting on my porch, looking at the brilliant colors of dying leaves, signaling a change in seasons, I sense a changing of the seasons of my soul as well. While I look out at signs that winter is coming — a blanket of cold, perhaps even ice, where all living things go to ground and the world as a result looks dead — I feel a stirring in my own soul, an awakening. Glowing embers being fanned into flame by the Wind, annoucning the arrival of spring.

I am out of sync with nature. But I feel so very in-sync with my God. Finally, the ice is melting. The cold of my soul winter is giving way to the warmth of my Beloved’s spring.

though its stormy now
I feel safe within the arms of
love’s discovery

"Love’s Recovery" written by the Indigo Girls, from their self-titled album