Tossing and turning, I couldn’t shut off my mind and I couldn’t find comfort. I was plagued with a dark, restless night.  My heart was beating too quickly and questions sped through the room, whirling on the wind made by the overhead fan. My body folded and bent, stretched and curled trying to find peace but no physical comfort would trump the inner turmoil that accosted my mind and soul. The sheets tangled around me and then fell from the bed as I lay there losing the wrestling match with myself.

Hours passed. The house grew quiet and heavy as my eyes begged for sleep. No answers came for my questions, no freedom for my dreams to play on. What I wanted was a reason, a motivation, an understanding. What I needed was much deeper.

In the arid night, as my throat tore in the dry air and my muscles ached to be let out of the tense and into rest, the words pierced through my layers of questions and filled the holes, the cracks, the insecurities. Like a balm of healing, like sweet honey, like thick oil, they poured in to my brokenness:

I am your Father.

You are fully loved 

and accepted

by me. 

Twelve average, everyday, common words woven together to heal me from my doubt, my worry, and my hurt.

Twelve beautiful, powerful, freeing words that cut through layers of lies and disbelief.


2 thoughts on “Wrestle

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