Loss

I carry alot of stuff in my life. I try hard to let them go, but alas I carry them. My hands are gripped tightly not willing to open them. I need open hands. I need to let them fall open, finger by finger.

There is one who created me who can take this stuff. He can mold it and take it and use it. He can restore my broken soul to a thing of beauty but still my hands stay clenched. Gripped tightly. Why don't I trust him?

Why is it that when we are faced with earths hardships we crumble and rely on our own strength instead of falling at the feet of the one who restores broken souls? The one who calms fear? Who listens and hears our cries forming from the depths of our hearts?

So many things are tearing at my soul at the moment making me weary and lost. There is loss. A great loss. The loss of a great friend, but the loss of not saying goodbye.

It's forever.

 I hear her voice as she called a week ago, asking when I was coming, slurry and not making sense and I feel yet again the sense of urgency, the desire and passion to share this moment, yet it is kept from me and it never comes.

This loss is almost too hard to bear.

But there is one who can restore my heart. He takes hearts and mends them. He reaches down and cradles my soul when the tears come and the anger surfaces.

I listen to his voice and he restores peace within me.