When did He become enough?
When did I pass through to absolute acceptance. Into all-encompassing joy?
I’ve been that woman.
The one who cries herself to sleep every night. Who gets angry at God for keeping her single and childless.
I’ve been there.
Where injustice rises up and strangle holds your life and keeps you captive to the decisions of others.
I’ve seen absolute poverty.
I’ve witnessed the ravages of drug abuse.
I’ve shook my fist at God and cried out, “Where are you, God?”
It’s been two and a half years since I began my dedicated prayer journey and somewhere in the midst of all the broken that life is, He changed me. Instead of shaking my fist, I hit my knees. My desires haven’t changed. My circumstances are not that different. I still live in a fallen world, but I haven’t given up. I still witness injustice and suffering and indescribable circumstances, but now I help or give or pray.
Most of all? I love.
He has gentled my heart. He has opened me up and embedded some of His unimaginable, unconditional love inside me.
And that love, so precious and divine – given so freely, became enough.
And through that love, that greatest gift: Hope.
I still long for my heart’s desire. I still experience injustice. I see the darkness.