In the past few weeks, emptiness has been a tragic theme. In quiet moments, overwhelming moments, and ordinary moments... I crawled, empty and drained. The oxygen masks given to me I passed on to someone else, as if I did not need air to survive. I continued to find myself reading scripture, understanding, but relating it to someone else's life or present state and offering it to them to satisfy their need. I would hear a song and press share, a picture, a thought, a quote... all fuel for someone else.
The emptiness grew like a monster in my heart, tearing apart any left over flesh... awakened and starving it would devour me entirely if I did not cry out for help. Another friend calls, another battle to fight... again I place my pain and struggles on the back burner allowing the beast to take another fleshy bite.
Yet, repetition kept me moving. I found myself flipping through the silver lined pages, doing my morning devotional, my quiet time, or whatever else became a habit as my frustration continued to grow while emptiness attempted to devour any light left in my soul. I attempted to reached out to a friend and nothing to help me move past this, thus allowing my thoughts to attack me once again.
No one cares, Brady.
Your problems do no matter.
You are only made to help others, quit trying to be so selfish.
Then today... today happened.
I drove into San Antonio to search for boots and realized that no store was open at 9:50 am... so I joined one of my girls at her church. I sat there through the song, through the service, anxiety building up within me, then communion came. I began to tear up.
I needed this.
This simple act of acknowledging Jesus, I needed it.
My soul began to move from given up to a defensive stance in this battle. I began to see that whatever darkness had been hiding his word and light in me was stemming from lies. The battle raged on.
While driving home immediately after, I began to just talk to God. I just let it out. I told him how hurt I have been, a relator at heart finding ways to relate to people, but suffering from no one seeking to relate to me. I begged for him to light a fire in my soul. I made known my frustration of him only sharing words with me that were intended for others... but when I needed him he did not show up. In the midst of my thundering (not quiet waiting) he injected,
"Quit being a mirror."
What is that even supposed to mean? A mirror. "A mirror" breaks your silence God... really?! What do you want me to do, jump for joy? Rejoice and sing out about this ridiculous metaphor! I sat there dumbfounded behind the wheel. Repeating the words that were definitely not mine, over and over again.
Then I pleaded,
"Okay, so... what do I do with that?"
It hit me...
A mirror reflects. A mirror doesn't absorb. A mirror is constantly used by others.
The darkness fled. I sat there fully exposed, understanding what God had given me!
I had been too ready to share, to reflect the Son's light to someone else, to give up my living water for the sake of another... I wasn't attending to my health. I needed to soak in the light of the Lord, not only reflect it. My goal to live radiantly for him somehow became confused with reflecting.
The definition for reflecting states:to move in one direction, hit a surface, and quickly move in a different, usually opposite, direction.
However, radiating expresses the importance of radiation which is going out in a direct line from a central point.
The major difference is the central point... the heart. I was missing that part of allowing myself to reflect on his words; letting his words soak into my heart, lighting a fire that I can't control. Yes, they might have been meant for someone else but the words were probably a gift to me, as well. Now I find myself here. Typing away, sharing again, but thankful that this time... yes, this time I acknowledged the gift from the giver.
Love this B.
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