Not Forgotten

Kim and I sat at the Cracker Barrel tonight over tea and eggs with grits and toast, or in Kim's case, eggs with biscuits and gravy.  We tried to capture the last few weeks and months in the lyrics of a song.  It is very interesting to write a song with someone other than your own thoughts and feelings.  I felt as if I was getting to know my friend in a whole new way as well as allowing her to see the vulnerable side of me.  I don't why words cause me to feel so vulnerable...they are just words...but then again they reflect who I am and the experiences I am walking through.  It was a start, after all, it's what we came for.  We came to write.  It was our first collaboration in this new town.

When the food actually came to the table we set aside the writing and began to talk on other topics.  Of course, these topics included matters of the heart.  I told her of one of my recent conversations with the Lord about letting go.  It made me realize that I should write this all down.  

I have been afraid to let go.  I have been afraid to stop trying.  I have been afraid that if I just set it down that it would be forgotten.  And if forgotten by me, then also forgotten by God, forgotten by him.  Forgotten as if all of it never really mattered anyways...all of the memories together, all of the hopes for more, all of the prayers prayed, the laughing and inside jokes, the defining moments, the friendship.  And that's what so hard.  Because it mattered to me.  He mattered.  I wanted to see it through.  I wanted to see it turn around.

I could keep hoping.  I could keep holding on.  But it would leave me waiting by the phone.  It would leave me wanting more.  It would have me thinking that it all depended upon my ability to keep up.  It almost has a crippling effect as I try to make my way in a new city.  There are days when its perfect timing has been my comfort and then there are days where the lack of it has me going through withdrawals.  And there is nothing I can do to make it more.  I just know that I haven't wanted it to be any less.

So I have prayed that the Lord would give me wisdom... that He would show me His heart for me... that He would show me my own heart.  I have prayed that He would help me to let go.... despite what I have felt in my heart to be true, despite what I have hoped for, despite the fact that I don't want it all go to waste.  He writes down our words.  He keeps record of what we have told Him.  And so I have to trust Him...whether letting go means for good or whether it just means for now.  Letting go is letting go... resting in the unfailing love of a God who pays attention to our details.

I have noticed a change since this conversation with the Lord.  It doesn't hurt quite as much.  It doesn't seem quite as difficult.  I'm not waiting by the phone.  I'm asking the Lord about what's next... small glimmers of hope throughout the day.  I'm trusting Him, to hold every one of my concerns in His hands... to bring His good, to bring the truth, to bring me to the desires of my heart.