The Girl at the Pier
I miss the California sun. I miss the aroma of the flowers rising up to greet me as I would pound the pavement, greeting them with a "good morning, it's so lovely to see you out!"
Ain't no sunshine when she's gone.
Where did she go?
I miss dreaming. I miss having a vast and expansive world at my finger tips. I miss standing at the edge of the ocean, and recognizing my very small significance.
I miss the sun. I miss running into the east, running into the sunlight as if I was never turning back.
I want to go back to California. I want to be there. I want to be the person that I was when I was there. I want to be the confident woman that believed she could and she would.
Ain't no sunshine when she's gone.
Where did this woman go?
I miss running into the sunlight as if I was never turning back.
I don't want to go back to who I was before that trip. The timid little girl who would cower her shoulders when surrounded by superiors. The woman who was a girl that wrestled with the overwhelming insecurity brewing inside of her.
Ain't no sunshine when she's gone.
Where did she go?
I will run into the sunlight, and not turn back.
There is freedom in running toward the sun. With each step on the pavement, I throw off one more piece of graveclothes. It is an uncomfortable process. Some of the graveclothes are harder to throw off than the others. Because some of those cloths, as decaying and rotten as they may be, have been a comfort to me. They are my safe zone. They are my go to coverings when the waves of life start to swirl. Plucking them from my cracked vessel is harder than I anticipate. Because they've grown to be a part of me, even in their death and destruction on life and renewal.
But I keep my eyes on the sun. I remember the warmth on my skin. And I compare that with the cold lifeless graveclothes. I hate being cold. Why not throw off the cold, lifeless grave clothes? Why not pursue the sun? The sun calls out my name, it beckons me to run towards this new life, the new dawn breaking forth.
"Don't look back ," it whispers to me. "Come nearer, dear daughter."
"See my light? Feel my warmth?"
"My darling, those grave clothes no longer suit you. I certainly know what is best for you and desire to give you my best. Hear, dear daughter. "
As I turn back to pick up my grave clothes that I've torn off, I realize they're no longer there. There is nothing left behind me. Someone has taken care of it.
"Dear daughter, my holy and beloved little girl, please take these."
"Here is a compassionate heart. It may break, but know it will be restored. May your mouth be opened with kindness. Stretch out your hands in kindness with a soft, gentle touch. Take on humility. You are valued and you are treasured because of the love that I have for you. Think more of me, and less of yourself. Dear daughter, my Word is my letter to you. May you tremble over it over the magnitude of the love I've poured out over you. Darling, meekness is not a weakness. Meekness is my desire for you, to be humbly patient. You only need to stand still and I will fight for you, my darling. And here, dear one, here is the cloak of forgiveness. Put this around your heart, dear one. This world is fallen. Hurt people will hurt people. Forgive. Forgive, dear one. Forgive others and forgive yourself just as I have forgiven you. And oh my beautiful daughter, above all these put on love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony. Sweet daughter, instead of the rules of this world and culture reigning in your heart, let the peace of Christ rule there. Let Him make His home there. Is this not something to be every so thankful for? My daughter, you've exchanged the clothes of death for the clothes of life! See? If you are clothed in the clothes of life, do you not want to live the life that runs towards the sunlight and stays in the sunlight? And do you not want to take every moment, breath, and opportunity to honor Your Father with this new life? With these new clothes? Oh sweet one, I do leave the choice up to you each morning. I know the sunlight may be covered by overcast skies or looming storms, but do not forget that it is still there. The light shines in the darkness and the darkness cannot or will not overcome it. Even on the darkest day, my light is still there. The sunlight is still there."
"Sweet one, do not give up on running into the sunlight. Even as your breath wavers and your feet get increasingly heavy, push through. You're no longer wearing graveclothes that will weigh you down. You are wearing and running in the newness of life that I have gifted you. Darling, those are not heavy. They were never meant to be heavy. If at anytime you go searching for those old graveclothes, may they be so heavy that you can't bear to pick them up again. "
Ain't no sunshine when she's gone.
And she is no longer gone.
She is home.
And she makes her home in the sunlight. She draws her strength from the rays of love and light beaming down upon her. Because she knows those come from a source bigger than herself. They come from an outside source that she will never be able to find on her own.
And so she continues to run into the sunlight. Perhaps there are mornings when the sunlight is harder to see, but she knows it is still there. She knows because she remembers the overwhelming presence of it as she pursued it relentlessly. And how it met her there. And how He removed her grave clothes and gave her new clothes.
There is sunshine.
And she lives in it. She breathes it in.
And she is not turning back.
"The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness will not overcome it." -John 1:5
*Written on May 7, 2014