Necessary Fight

Necessary Fight

1920 1343 Sarah Rennicke

When the storm has swept by, the wicked are gone, but the righteous stand firm forever.     Proverbs 10:25

 

I am tasting the bitter bile of disappointment far too often lately. Gathering in my stomach, rising through my throat that does not catch me from stifling my words. Those spew with venom, malice and a language foreign to my ears. I don’t know who I am when my mouth goes off.

And when the pang of pride pricks acutely in the weak point of my heart, I immediately pull in any offering of myself I dared to show to others. Immediately brick up my walls, ice over the blood bleeding from my hurt. All too familiar, a fortress forms, latching its base into the earth of my being.

I let people get too close, they let me down, I fall into the deep recesses of my soul where no light prevails. I nestle in the crevices, bleak barrenness calling out my name.

I let my pride fester, mingle with anger, frustration, stubbornness. I hold myself under the surface and do not want to come up for air. I long to make myself inaccessible again, as I was before You broke me clean open.

And this I fight, my own battle of flesh and spirit. The person I am and the one You want me to be. Holding onto the tightness in my chest or releasing it to You, to look to You to be the bigger soldier in this scuffle. Dead to self, alive to Christ. Is that not the goal? The upmost desire, yet why is this so difficult? To skim out the sickness plaguing my soul and set my eyes on You?

Or yet, to hand over the tremors of my heart’s cry to You, entrusting my most vulnerable aches are well and delicately tended to.

Let the storm pass, bridge to my peace. May the calm come that calls personally to me against the winds rippling on my locked tower. Clear the endless noise to bring that still, small voice to speak in tune with Your strength to see me through. Pick away the pain and embolden my disappointment to see a different truth. To see this fight as one necessary to save my soul, discover the best of me buried in You. Reveal the whispers of trust, that when life stings me, You alone can soothe.


 

Sarah Rennicke

Sarah Rennicke loves words. She also loves people. And she loves weaving them together in honest and vulnerable ways. She loves slowing down and listening to the heartbeats of this world, exploring the hidden hopes and deepest fears tucked away in souls. She believes that God created imagination to truly see His handiwork, and that we are all desiring to be seen, known, and loved.

All posts by Sarah Rennicke

Leave a Reply