We never know the depth of a wound until we start undressing the bandages.....
I've never been afforded the opportunity to fully wrap my arms around the totality of love. I assumed that my heart's rhythm had been severed by arteries that hemorrhaged during seasons of shock. I remember waking up in ice cold, lifeless rooms full of stainless steel after suffering from cardiac "love" arrest. Defibrillators sent jolts of electrical currents to revive the remains of the deceased.
There was no pulse. No sign of radioactivity. My heart never made a full recovery from the sustained trauma. In that vacant spot, weeds grew from the empty cracks. On occasion, the weeds required pruning, but I refused. Pruning meant acknowledging the evidence of buried roots. Instead I opted for the anesthesia of denial and superficial prosthetics.
It was easier to pretend with the masked, optical illusion of a full recovery. On the surface, there wasn't any visible signs of damage; but underneath, the void remained. My survival became contingent upon camouflage.
I drowned out the reality of my truth by sleeping with the enemy.
I slept with the desperation of depression.
I slept with the ugliness of untruth.
However, my perfectly, tucked white sheets always reveled hints of bloodstained sin. God always has a way of "uncovering" the truth!
I'm thankful that God exposed my darkness with light.
I'm grateful that He turned my defiled bed of unrest into a sanctuary of peace.
I'm humbled that he turned my silent cries into unspeakable joy.
"Love" gave my heart a chance to beat on sync again!
If you climb into bed with the enemy, don't be surprised if you become impregnated with his seed.
You can't free yourself from bondage while willfully sleeping with the enemy!
Who or what is hiding underneath the secret sheets of your unrest?
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