Nowhere, but here
Sometimes, I think I’ve hit rock bottom, but I’m too afraid to let anyone know.
The cracks begin to become unmanageable, outpacing my desperate scramble to cover them up.
Do you know how it feels to naturally push people away? Everything in me longs for the depths of my truest self to be truly known, but I tremble at the thought of exposing the bundle of darkness that lurks there.
I clutch it to myself, crippled by the weight of it, shielding it from the light. Loneliness becomes my default.
My soul cries out in silence. I need help.
I have nowhere to go, but God. Nowhere, but my knees. Nowhere, but here.
My refuge. My strength.
I know what I need to do, but I can’t do it. I know where my strength comes from, but I am still searching for the peace that comes from truly believing it. I ache to be right with my God, but my confidence fails me. I’m clouded by uncertainty and confusion, and hope is snatched away.
But in this moment of pain and hurt, I remember something about my helplessness. My helplessness to change myself. My helplessness to take control.
It’s ok to be helpless. Where does my help come from? The Maker of Heaven and Earth. My breathing slows as I realise I can look outside of me, above me, beyond me.
He is my help. Truly. He isn’t just a nice idea or a vague notion. He is the Living God.
Supremely sovereign, just, gracious, kind, generous, patient, holy, loving, good. When I can do nothing else, I cling to Him. His presence washes over me. He sees me. He knows me. He loves me. He takes the bundle of darkness from my shaking hands and obliterates it. Because of Him, I am known, I am understood, I am loved. It is what I know about Him that should shape what I think about me. It is all Him.
I am weak. But He makes me strong. Strong enough to take another step. To face another day.
I can’t hold my life together - so I must surrender it to Him.
If rock bottom gets me to my knees, without pretence or excuse, here, with Him - it’s ok. In fact, there is nothing more important.
Go to your knees before Him. Give Him your most terrible burden. Be right with Him again. Open your eyes. Open your mouth. Start with three words.
“Here I am.”