It’s a nail. It’s a steel nail. It’s a sharp nail. It pierces the face of resilience. It could pierce me. It could tunnel deep into my skin. It could be a pain I choose. It could make me bleed. I could see the blood run over my hand and drip on the cold white tiles. Could it let out the pain harboured in my chest? Could it release the dormant anger beginning to rumble?
Maybe if I ran I could run from the ache. Perhaps the beating of my feet against the searing tarmac could steal the agony from me. Maybe the slam of a fist into steady hard walls could shatter the tension strung tightly under my skin. Maybe the tear of skin from my limbs could satisfy the anger that sits deep. Could anything but the oblivion of unconsciousness give me relief?
The guilt sits in my chest whispering lies to me. The shame sits over my head forcing my eyes down and silencing my pleas.
My mind is a vortex of thoughts; touch the edge and be sucked in. It is an endless tunnel of debilitating ideas. It is my own worst enemy. My patterns of thinking lead me to my suffering. I don’t know how to change them. They are the way I have learnt to process the world but I think they need to be unravelled. However, I don’t know how to do that myself.
But then rebellion begins to dance in my eyes and hope begins to trickle into a smile. Peace begins to wash across my heart and flows over head. Love begins to heat and warm the cold. Joy begins to prick at the corners of my eyes. I think I have not given up. My God is still sovereign here.
So now I sit and remember what I said at the beginning of the year. Lord, bring me closer to you even if it means throwing me into the pits of despair. I stand by that. I am so near to Him. I can feel His breath blowing lightly on my cheeks. Thank you, Lord, thank you!
I know God has control over what is happening. Only the Holy Spirit can change the way I think. Only He can change me so much from the inside. So dear Lord, please take the way I think and make it yours.