I see you, my love, though you don’t see yourself.
I see you running from one distraction to the next
They won’t help you
You take yourself with you wherever you go and whoever you go to
I see you
A boy within a man crying out to be loved
Yet desperately TERRIFIED of BEING LOVED
Fights with the man. “See me. Let her see me, let her in, I do want love, I love her”
The man replies, “No, she will leave, like all the others betrayed and left, she will deceive”
I see you, my love
A war within the self
You feel the war, yet cannot identify its’ name
You crave love and goodness
Yet cannot receive it
You do not feel worthy
You push away to protect the little boy from rejection
His father rejected him. Beat him. Brutalized him. Made him lower than dirt
Abandonment. So much abandonment
“So push away – push her far, far away, she’ll do the same – she HAS to be expelled so that I may feel worthy” (says he, without knowing he is speaking.)
Is it possible to be rejected for being too much good for a man to handle?
“Yes.” She whispers with her head bowed low, eyes closed and exhaling in prayer
She continues in unwavering fervor before her Lord, Husband and Creator, Jesus, Yeshua, as God her friend leans in with a melody and sings over her, “I see you, my love”
She sees him, as God sees her
She knows what El Roi showed her all those years ago. The flash- the prediction that showed complete vulnerability in nakedness between two souls, such “sureness” and mystery all in one tenth of a second
Joy, though not yet here – she held in her arms and for a moment felt the deepest love and warmth she could ever imagine
The standing in the center – rocking a special gift back and forth – something created from a first and last love
She holds close to her heart each sign and wonder displayed. Precious whispers about the blessing and future, whispered to her heart
She knows what El Shaddai told her last summer, “I am faithful to complete what I started”
Blessed is she who believes that the Lord will fulfill His promises to her.
Though, no one told her that the believing and perseverance of faith would be a bloody mess of loss, weeping and travail
For the three
She is living in a story that is not yet finished – each chapter penned in it’s own season
And she is steadfast.
She never understood why she had the gift of long suffering, just like her Heavenly Father in this regard.
To the little boy I knew and loved: be strong and courageous continue to war – wrestle – fight with the messenger of the Lord until you receive a blessing, be loud, protest within him until he hears you
To the man I love: stop running. admit. surrender. What must it feel like to be worthy, simply because you are? What must it feel like to receive love without having earned it or to perform for it?
My hands are open. I do not grip the bird so tightly that I suffocate it, I do not hold it with my hands closed, so it may not fly. I allow this bird to rest atop my palms – it is completely free to fly wherever the wind may go. Love does not control. I did not understand this before – and now I do.
Now I am at peace.
No matter the outcome of his war.
“If you love something let it go, and if it is yours – it will return back to you”, she whispers to the great unknown.
Let all that I am praise the Lord, with my whole heart, I will praise his Holy name. Let all that I am praise the Lord; may I never forget the good things he does for me. He forgives all my sins and heals all my diseases. He redeems me from death and CROWNS ME WITH LOVE AND TENDER MERCIES. He fills my life with good things, My youth is renewed like the eagle’s! – Psalm 103