It had been building for months, maybe longer.
Time...it takes so much of it to heal.
And sometimes you never fully do.
It seemed as though as soon as a scab appeared and began to form it was ripped open wide, exposing the the hurt once again.
I wanted to confront. To find healing for my wounded soul. It is my nature to talk-to work things out.
I asked the Lord to give me opportunity, to give me words.
But He said no. And His peace wasn't there.
"Be silent." His whisper to my soul. "Do not speak of your pain to the one who offends. Only love."
"Oh but Lord, I cannot do it. I cannot see to the end of my own pain to begin to love."
"I know." came the quiet response. "Lay your burden at my feet and allow Me to love through you." The words rang out, "Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins."
He continued to speak using the voice of a friend, "Offer up to me as a sacrifice, your need to work it out the way you want."
I yielded to His words and found in that place, peace.
"Love." The words continued to sing in my heart, as the hurt beat to the rhythm of it's own tune.
My flesh has no lovely thing.
Love would not come from me.
Only Him.
"Love is patient"..."meet her where she's at."
"It keeps no record of wrongs"..."forgive what has been done."
"It is not self seeking"..."do not seek to satisfy your flesh by trying to accomplish your agenda and not Mine."
"always perseveres"..."Do not give up on what I have ordained."
I prayed that when face to face with my hurt that He would be there.
I cried out to the Lord and He heard my prayers.
The Lord went before me and poured out His grace.
An underserving sinner such as myself. And yet He continues to heap grace upon grace.
On a cold morning.
Over coffee and scones.
He closed my mouth.
And worked to His glory.
In a way only the Lord could orchestrate.
Restoration.
With tears and hugs He brought about peace.
Salve placed over an aching wound.
I stood amazed at His goodness.
Love.
His love.
It never fails.
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