So, they let you down.
Someone broke you.
Someone shattered your pieces.
Someone probably promised they’d never leave.
Promised their hands would never do anything
but piece you together and keep you that way.
Always and forever. Or whatever.
Promised they’d never forget.
Until they did. Until they forgot. Until they left. Until they destroyed.
I bet they talked a lot of talk and I bet you were skeptical, I bet you were doing the best you could trying to guard your heart. I bet you had your guard up, I bet you were uneasy.
So I bet they kept talking a lot of talk until you believed them. Until they had you wrapped around their finger. Until they intentionally had you hopelessly holding onto words with no weight. I bet they talked a lot of talk until they started walking. And then the walk they started walking, didn't match the talk they've been talking.
And now instead of a hand to hold, all you have are words. Combinations of letters that formed sentences making promises that appeared strong and mighty, until you got up close and watched them get swept away like a box with nothing in it on a windy day.
Empty. Weightless. Unstable.
They walked away, they disappeared and the only thing you see or feel now is the wicked path of destruction left behind them on their way out. So what do you do with the wreckage?
Try to hide it? Bury it? Burn it?
Try to distract yourself? Try to unwind yourself?
Try to rewind and re-find yourself?
And when it doesn’t work,
when all of your best efforts to fix yourself don’t work;
What do you do?
Where do you go?
But here's what most people won't tell you.
Your wreckage doesn't have to be the remains of a relationship.
Your wreckage doesn't have to be the doing of someone else.
Many times our wreckage is our own doing.
Many times, too many times, the weightless words and broken promises we hold onto come from the whispers of the enemy, who dwells and revels in you drowning in your own mess.
Your wreckage doesn't have to be the end of your story.
Don't you see?
It can be the beginning.
Wake up. Rise up. Get up.
I know someone Who specializes in wreckage control.
And He's already on the scene.
He always has been. All He's waiting on is you.
To come to the end of yourself.
To stop pretending. To stop putting on such a show.
To admit you can't do it on your own.
But I bet you never noticed.
I bet you've been so distracted by the words that looked pretty with no meaning, with no weight, that you didn't see Him.
Or feel Him. Or hear Him. I bet you were too distracted by what has never filled you up to see or sink your teeth into what forever will.
So, how long are you going to let it go on?
How long are you going to let yourself be distracted by what is never going to fill you up?
How long are you going to tune Him out?
God didn't forget about you. And no matter how many times darkness tries to convince you that He has, no matter how many times your emotions cloud your judgement and work to persuade you into thinking that you are alone: remember this.
Remember what I'm telling you.
Remember that no matter how far you've run,
no matter how long you've been gone,
no matter how deep you've fallen into the wreckage;
remember what is always in reach.
Remember to look up.
Just look up. Please. Remember.
He meets us where we are.
And His promises? They have more weight than any of us
could ever begin to even comprehend. And those words?
Those are the only words that I choose to hold on to.
They have never failed me. They have never not taken my breath away.
And they continue to always take what should never stay away.
And they are my rise in each and every wreckage.
carly lynn. xo