liquid prayer

Closets of souvenirs—the trinkets we stuff the baggage we hide. Trashbags of teddies from ex’s, flesh chards from that internal forest fire in ’05, vial of the water coughed up from drowning, and our own urn. That’s what we hide. The ugly. The things we think if someone saw, they wouldn’t want us. Yet, that hidden scarlet letter is our passage point to the heart of God. To connect with the God of caring and kindness, let your wounds find air. Expose them to Him in open cries. Find the water in the weeping. As we let go—salty droplets, closets unhinged, downpours from drowning soul…He meets. He hears. He responds. He comes. He loves. He cries with you in rain. That flood of love waterfalling us in those heartbreaking soulaching screams… that flood of love overcomes. All the pain eclipsed by His love.

Those cries—the 911 of the soul—move the heart of God.

There’s some wounds only tears can find.