Pressure Cooker

Recently I have felt like I am inside a very hot pressure cooker. The pressure is streaming out in a loud, high pitched sound. Many things have been thrown in: convention speaking, sub plans, grading, changing schedules, burn out beginning, trainings, death of a loved one, lessons, deadlines.... pressures.

Today I awoke overwhelmed with the pressure feeling like I would explode out the miniature spout that is shouting for attention. I cried out to Him who knows and understands the pressure that I am under. He responded. See, a pressure cooker will explode if left unattended. But if the chef comes when the screech begins, and lifts the lid. The pressure that had been mounting is instantly relieved, and an amazing soup is produced. So today, my Great Chef, lifted the lid. I feel like he lifted it enough to add a few more ingredients and will soon put the lid back on. But I know He is producing in me perseverance, character and hope. I know the end result will be beautiful. And I know that when I feel like I am screeching and about to explode from the pressure, He will lift the lid and give me instant relief.

PS it is funny how the pressure and the relief both cause tears, just a different heart behind them.

My first attempt at poetry

The Walls Around My Heart

A little girl played and laughed

oblivious

unaware 

that inside her 

a heart beat with life and joy.

But then 

a sting

a stab

made her take notice.

A thin pink gossamer

she pinned to her heart.

She liked how it waved and flowed. 

But then

a strike 

a stroke

made her retreat and hide. 

A clear, tall sheet of glass would do the trick.

Her heart still seen.

But then

a shock 

a shot

made her enclose, self-protect.

Brick and mortar would do the trick.

The protection made her secure. 

But then

a slander 

a sorrow

a searing pain

a surrounding despair

a send off

a slight

a suffering so deep

An iron gate would seal it off

cut it at the knees. 

NEVER AGAIN

But then

darkness overwhelms

silence suffocates

pain endures.

I hid. 

I ran. 

The walls around my heart so firmly in place. 

The little girl was lost

unobserved

unbeloved.

The gossamer

The glass

The brick and mortar 

The iron gate 

But then He bids me come.

"Will you open your gate?"

His kindness bids me come.

I turn the key and once again

a slander 

a sorrow

a surrounding despair

I can't see.

I can't breathe.

Yet I turn the key.

His light bids me come. 

The gate swung open and once again I stand. 

But then He bids me come.

"Will you pull down your bricks? 

I want to see inside."

"Why?" I ask.

"There's nothing to behold."

I take a brick and once again

a send off

a slight

a suffering so deep

I can't do it.

I cling to the brick.

If it comes down, 

I'll fall down too.

But His brightness bids me come.

The wall falls down and so do I.

Now I'm on my knees. 

No further can I go

No one may enter in.

All I know is hiding and retreat.

But then He bids me come. 

"Inside I see a heart, 

a heart that once belonged. 

I want a closer look

But this glass is so strong.

Will you melt it down?"

He bids me as He comes. 

The fear I thought I knew, threatens to overtake.

What if I'm undone?

But His glory bids me come.

I set fire to the glass

As my tears fall, 

so does my wall. 

I feel vulnerable and exposed

unraveled and betrayed.

Once again

a shock 

a strike

a shot
a stroke

The wind blows as I weep.

The pink gossamer takes flight

a laugh

a giggle

as it dances in the light.

His love bids me come.

He doesn't even ask. 

I see it in His eyes. 

He wants me to unpin,

that which now brings delight.

I turned the key

I held the brick 

I set light to the glass

How much more could He want?

I knew before I asked, He wants my very heart. 

My hand trembles as I walk

to the thread I hold so dear.

Worry fills my eyes

But then He bids me come. 

So hidden had it been

But now as I unpinned

I saw beneath the sheet

a piece of all of me. 

I was shocked to see a name, 

a name not my own

written on my heart

It was not what I feared: 

Something ugly and unknown. 

Instead I saw

the sting, the stab, the strike, the stroke, the shock, the shot, 

the slander, sorrow, searing pain, 

the surrounding despair,

the send off, slight, and suffering so deep 

Had etched inside of me

The name that Bids me Come. 

And now my heart throbs and swells with joy

unhindered by my walls.

Unraveled

The other night I was crocheting. As I compared the panel I was currently working on to another I had already completed, I noticed a drastic change in size. I had done one way too tight and so there was half an inch difference in width and length. The individual panel looked great, but compared to the other it was greatly deficient. I pulled out hours of work and rolled it into a big ball, which is devastating.

My life feels like that right now. It feels like my life in the minuscule looks good, the stitches are lined up and put together. But... when compared to the grand scheme of life, of this Christian life, I am deficient. God has been unraveling me, to put me back together as a closer image of His Son. He's unraveling my short fuze at school. He's unraveling coping habits that have been engraved in my head since high school. He is unraveling the old self that still moves and lives inside me. He is currently putting all those into a big ball of yarn.

It is hard to be unraveled. There is a sense of loss. If I just look at the piece in front of me, I think that it looks good and there is no reason to take it apart. But in the big picture, God pulls apart so that He can restore, so that all the pieces will work together to make a beautiful whole. So this gives me hope. Lord God, please unravel all that does not conform with the image of your Son. I want to look like a beautiful replica of His character, and that can't happen if my good enough panels don't all match up. Thank you for making me more than good enough.