Bottled

Today I received a letter that changed my life. It came from someone I love with ever fiber of my heart, from the deepest depth of my being. It bore a message that shook me, scared me, and left me reeling and fumbling for balance as my vision blurred and my mind numbed and my thoughts ran the gamut from shock to sadness to bitterness to anger to confusion to worry to... where I am now.

And I'm not entirely sure where that is.

The message the letter brought is something that has been bottled for far too long, allowed to fester and spoil, dropped on hard concrete and shaken up, carefully stored at the back of the cupboard until an unknowing party popped the cork and sprayed the unsuspecting with shock and sadness and bitterness and anger and confusion and worry and...

I know this isn't making much sense. Don't ask me any questions. Simply pray for the ones I love. God will know for whom you're praying. Pray for clarity, for courage, for honesty, for understanding, for release, for repentence and forgiveness, for calm and sanity, for wisdom, for peace.

For me, pray specifically for courage, clarity and long-suffering. For I've been caught in a place no one ever wants to be: the middle. And although I'm here as an unwilling participant, I'm here with everything that IS me, with every ounce of love this heart can muster. But me isn't enough. I can't go into this battle alone. I can't go in with Darren. I can't go in with anyone but God. Pray that I'll remember that when Goliath starts taunting. 'Cause he will.