So there I was saying Psalm 23 this morning, meditating on it actually when I reach the place of "restore my soul" and suddenly got this vision of my soul. It was a roundish oval thing. Not really a healthy pink, kind of dun in color. There was a spot on it like a gray smudge. I'm not sure if it was a smudge or if it was a place where dark black dust had been sprinkled on it. One part of my soul was wrinkled, near the bottom, almost withered and shrunk-looking.
I saw it in God's hand. He was holding it in his hand, very lovingly, very tenderly. I think he was massaging certain parts of it and was in the act of restoring it. Maybe going to put living water in it.
So I get up and because I didn't sleep the first thing I say to Luke (the hubby) is a snarky accusing comment. I kinda went into blame mode and he really hadn't done anything against me sleeping. But not sleeping and woundedness can make a person fall into blame mode very easily. I came downstairs and felt so convicted of my cruelty to him. Basically, what I was saying was he was going to ruin my day because he hadn't done what I asked. So I apologized to him.
He had this look of surprise on his face. "You said something mean?" he asked.
I explained to him that even if he didn't feel the cruelty and the blame in my comment that it was there and that I shouldn't have said it.
So now... waiting for God to restore my heart more and more. I wonder what that dark smudge or blast of black dust was. I've been so wounded in life that I really expected to see a lot of pit marks on my soul. And in all honesty, I was surprised to see just this one large smudge. I don't know how deep the smudge goes into my little pink soul. But I suspect the dark smudge woundedness is so deep that all the other wounds in my life must have come from (or is rooted in that smudge.) Father abandonment, I suspect. But who knows? Funny how one doesn't know how and where and why the main hurt in one's life comes from. Lord, do what you wish to heal my heart!
I saw it in God's hand. He was holding it in his hand, very lovingly, very tenderly. I think he was massaging certain parts of it and was in the act of restoring it. Maybe going to put living water in it.
So I get up and because I didn't sleep the first thing I say to Luke (the hubby) is a snarky accusing comment. I kinda went into blame mode and he really hadn't done anything against me sleeping. But not sleeping and woundedness can make a person fall into blame mode very easily. I came downstairs and felt so convicted of my cruelty to him. Basically, what I was saying was he was going to ruin my day because he hadn't done what I asked. So I apologized to him.
He had this look of surprise on his face. "You said something mean?" he asked.
I explained to him that even if he didn't feel the cruelty and the blame in my comment that it was there and that I shouldn't have said it.
So now... waiting for God to restore my heart more and more. I wonder what that dark smudge or blast of black dust was. I've been so wounded in life that I really expected to see a lot of pit marks on my soul. And in all honesty, I was surprised to see just this one large smudge. I don't know how deep the smudge goes into my little pink soul. But I suspect the dark smudge woundedness is so deep that all the other wounds in my life must have come from (or is rooted in that smudge.) Father abandonment, I suspect. But who knows? Funny how one doesn't know how and where and why the main hurt in one's life comes from. Lord, do what you wish to heal my heart!
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