All That Gore

cryingbabyThere’s too much hurt in me to even make sense of. Why does God call us to impossible things? Save, nothing is impossible with Him. But often when He calls us out, it feels like He leaves us floundering, wondering what in the world we’re supposed to do with all this hurt. Have you ever wondered what to do with all that gore?

I am in a very transitional space. One that begs deep inward contemplation and evaluation. One that begs me lay down my life, pick up my cross, and follow. One that screams, “Write your story, write your story.” And, that is terrifying.

My friend tried to explain to me how she sees this process going for me. She said it’s like I’m in a tornado, dead center, and shrapnel keeps hitting me, putting me on my knees, shredded. Just when I think I’ve healed enough to stand again, another piece tears me up. And, she’s on the outside watching. Her heart is breaking for me, sure, but she’s also glad it’s not her. At least she’s honest, right?


Meanwhile, I’m the one getting shattered and shredded and in the middle, all by myself. There I am, watching the damage steadily increase, not knowing what to do with all the blood except use it like ink. But can people handle all that gore?

Can they read the blood on the screen and make sense of the pain that pulverizes me as I seek to make it all worth something?

I’ve known, for 30 years, that the hardships in my life were for a greater good. That God was giving me samplings of a wide berth of agonies so that I could be someone who truly understands. Someone who gets it, who doesn’t offer the pat answers, but rather the comfort and safety that we all so desperately need.

31918508083_6855051aa0_kHowever, as the samplings increased over those years, I found myself less willing to feel what other people feel. I shut off empathy and in so doing, many found me cold. Unless, of course, they were granted entry into the “inner circle.” Appearing cold, was better than having someone break in and steal my warmth. At least, that’s the position from which I have lived for at least 23 years.

Sometimes I have to feel sorry for those select few who have gained access over the years. Who they see today, on the screen, is hardly the woman they forged a relationship with. Hopefully, the transformation will only make those dear to me all the more dear. But I won’t know until I find out who can handle the gore. Can you?


    1. I gotta write a book that’s been hanging around for years. I’m not thrilled but I’m attempting to be obedient. Thanks for being supportive.

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