He Said it would cost me everything...

But when "everything" is only a theory and when the life you're experiencing is full of His tangible presence and when the people you care about are on your side, well, "everything" doesn't seem as daunting. And I haven't even lost everything, not even close. Both my little Belle and I are alive and healthy, though we both knocked on death's door not so long ago. My husband is still married to me, he still holds tha flame of faith and faithfulness to me and to Him who gave him to me. My family still loves me, though they may disapprove of my choices. I still have friends. No, by no means has obedience cost me EVERYTHING, it only cost that which I never expected to pay. Obedience cost me security, the security I thought was guaranteed, the confidence that I would be taken care of in ways that I considered acceptable. In hindsight, i can see that I was taken care of, taken care of in ways that clashed heavily with the God I thought I knew, in ways that met my physical needs but left my soul feeling ravaged and abandoned. I thought the answer would come in weeks, but the months have passed into a year and I still don't understand and I know enough to know that there are many who wait decades and even lifetimes without the answers I seek Even though the darkest part of the night is gone and I can feel the sun coming, if not even see it just a little, my soul feels branded. I have loved God with a deep passion from as long back as I can remember, a fiery soul longing to stand true to Him who gave me breath. With marriage came a new season and work challenges I hardly understood, much less was prepared for. I remember distinctly the season I moved from leading the pack, front row and passion arisen, to hiding in the back, passion exhausted, waiting anxiously for a way out. Years of struggle and a final gut level wrestle with disappointment and loss, I feel permenantly broken and too tired, too marked by disappointment to try again. In some ways I am confident that I am more of who I was made to be today than I was five years ago but I always wonder what happened to the fiery girl I once knew who felt so alive. Most days I'm sure she's dead and gone for good and if I stop to be really honest, the only thing I might really miss about her is her deep experience of His presence. My weaknesses and errors are clear enough and I am content to take ownership of my faulty expectations, my shaky foundation, and the cracks and fissurs therein but neither am I confident enough to build again. The last round nearly took me out for good while I weekly wished for death. I have no desire for another round yet knowing that by my choice or not, another round will eventually come. I don't want to build again to find myself here again, amidst crushed pictures of a God I thought I knew. I am too tired to labor in vain, not to mention that I don't really want to build at all. Bare walls aren't as homey but they feel less painful. There is a real room in my house that the Lord named my "encounter room." It too, is bare and even the furniture that lives there seems lost in the space. I have neither the vision nor the funds to furnish it. It feels utterly symbolic of the room in my heart. It feels less painful to leave it bare than to pay the price to decorate it only to have it pulled down in the next round of shaking. **It has been eighteen months since I originally penned this post. There have been some frightful lows and beautiful ups between now and then. And yes, we're in the next round of shaking. The encounter room of my heart still bare. There is emergency and disaster on many fronts. I'm asking again to find Him. If every room of my house and heart is bankrupt, I'm asking Him to meet me here. Now is the time to shine, he says, so meet me here and bring the light that cannot falter.