As this constant companion of a headache has returned in the last couple months, so have the enemy's whispers: You're worthless. You can't do it. You'll never finish school. You'll never have a fulfilling job. You'll never know the companionship of a husband or the love of a child. How dare you dream when you can't even manage to spend an afternoon out of bed?
Sometimes those whispers grow until they're deafening. It's hard not to believe them when I'm so helpless to stop the constant pain.
In the moments the whispers become screams, all I can do is cry out in desperation. I don't know what to pray. I have no words. But then the unmistakable voice of my Father breaks through the cacophony, in a whisper so small yet so crystal clear, it drowns out all others: Daughter, you are fearfully and wonderfully made. This body of yours is my masterpiece. You're not a mistake. You're my child, and I want only good things for you. Dearest, I have not healed you yet, but only because I have something better in store. Just wait. Trust me. Believe me.
Well, you were right. Some of it is so familiar. However, I wouldn't exchange the days of extreme, almost surreal, pain because those are some of the times I felt the Spirit hover so closely over me.
ReplyDeleteLove you. Laura