Battle Scars

There is a stirring within me, a throb that does not dull with time. I close my eyes and listen -- as the silence begins to engage my soul, I think of the hearts entwined with my own. How many ties can one hold? Has God not made us many branches of but one bush? My breath quickens as I envision the course my future holds; my heart is anxious to know the secrets, to truly say "I know God!" Is this fair? Can one so perfect and blameless be regarded as if a comrade or fellow traveler? No, I do not wish to see Him in that light. Instead, I long, as a lover in wait for her bridegroom, to hear His voice beckon to me, to know that I am loved and wanted and cherished for all time.
Now I open my eyes again only to discover the battle scars that cover my skin. At first, I struggle to hide them, to blind others from seeing just how weak I have been and can be. Slowly, ever so slowly, I let go of this vision of perfection to see that it is You who holds me so close to Your heart. This throb I feel is Your own heartbeat, a message intended specifically for me. I am scared, but this is real. You are so alive.

Psalm 142:6-7
6 Listen to my cry,
for I am in desperate need;
rescue me from those who pursue me,
for they are too strong for me.

7 Set me free from my prison,
that I may praise your name.
Then the righteous will gather about me
because of your goodness to me.