Warm hands on a cold heart

Once upon a time there was a girl. A girl who some would say, was made of spirit and laughter... and most of the time, they were right. But sometimes, the giggles would stop and she couldn't find her spirit. Jessa, was the spiritless girl with rosy checks. Many times, Jessa didn't know where her spirit would go. One moment there seemed to be happyness forever. And then, it would seem like all of the things that made her heart passionate would dissappear at once. It was like they forgot to come out after playing hide and seek. And sometimes, her heart would begin to feel kind of cold and numb, like her checks did after she would play outside too long in the winter. Jessa was happy. Jessa loved life. But sometimes, the passion would leave. It always came back, but each time it was gone again...Jessa wondered if this time was the time it was gone for good.



*The other day, when having a good conversation with a good friend about feeling a little passionless...I was asked, "When have you felt like you were the most intimate with Jesus?"
I knew right away.

Sitting in the pew at church I tried to keep breathing even though my heart felt like it might stop at any point. The pain in my stomach made me glad that I hadn't eaten anything before. Before the funeral. Before I began to realize that I hated God. I hated him because he left me again. He left me to live a life I no longer wanted to live. Why is it that it is always everyone else that gets to go? Why couldn't I go?? I hated him. I hated him because my heart hurt worse than it ever had before. And no one was helping me. I hated him because he loved me through everything. He loved me even when I hated him. He loved me when I blammed him. He loved me and cried with me in the church that smelled like flowers and perfume. God sat beside me, while I wore all black once again. He stode beside me as I looked down into the casket and said goodbye to another friend. That day, as I sat telling God that I hate him, I realized how much he loved me. How far his love could go. How his love can flow deeper than my deepest hurts.

I felt the most intimate when I was completely weak and broken. As I continue to be an RA, and feel like God isn't doing his job in using me...I am becoming weak. I know Jesus wants to use me. But I dont see it. I dont feel the passion. I feel tired. I desire God and what he has for me. Is he bringing me to a place that he can finally use me? I feel more like a wilted flower than something that is being broken for him to use.

Little Jessa keeps looking for her passion. She has looked far and wide. Even in India...but now she thinks she might just need to look into the eyes of the one who loves her more than anything. Is her passion found in his eyes? Probably...but he isn't too worried about that. He just wants to hold her. He wants to rock her to sleep. He wants to sing to her with love and let her know that his love is what she needs.