Like tumbling stones, my thoughts roll about my head, cascading all over my reality. As they fall, they crash into one another, creating booming waves that ricochet off my empty skull.
The rocks are made of many colors. The deep blue of my regret spools into the vibrant yellow of my hope, dulling its shine. Royal purple desires entangle themselves with the blood red of my self-hate, the two trapped in a contestant tango—a push and pull. My self-disgust is a vomit green that cages the brilliant orange rays of my dreams as they reach between the bars, through my eyes, to freedom. And on and on they go, constantly at war with one another, until I can no longer think. I can only feel.
At times, there is only regret and self-hate and disgust. My legs give way and I find myself curled in a ball, head pounding, cheeks soaked with tears, throat too tight to release a sob, as I beg God for relief. And He hears me, and He fills me with the most beautiful color. It isn’t hopeful yellow, or the desired purple, or dreamy orange, because those are the things I already have and they clearly aren’t enough.
No, God fills me with His promises, and mercy, and most importantly His love. Love isn’t a color you can pick at HomeDepot to paint your walls. It’s more vibrant than anything you could imagine, its brilliance blotting out every other insignificant color, and replacing it with something far more beautiful—the Holy Spirit.
So now, when the stones become erratic, flinging themselves into one another, causing me to feel small and alone, the Holy Spirit is there to calm them and remind me that He has a plan, that He will make the way, and all I have to do is pray and trust.
Heart of Joy and Sorrow 