Heart Change
I walk around my house with my hand over my heart. How is it that You have changed my very heart? Not my circumstances. I wept alone in the kitchen yesterday for the hurts that hurt so deeply, the piercing wounds caused by too many days saying too many unkind things. I felt reduced. Reduced to a lonely child with her head on her knees in a corner, crying for someone to love her. Someone to nurture her. Someone to lift up her head and say “I’m here for you, always.” Many years of marriage sometimes reduces us to children. And I just let God have it right there in the kitchen as I chopped up onions and carrots and bell pepper and celery and potato, huge wet glops of tears falling on the kitchen floor when I scooped to pick up a stray vegetable peeling, as I angrily scrubbed pots and dishes in the hot soapy sink, hot wet ugly tears, the sleeve of my t-shirt drenched with snot: I got honest, I got down and dirty with God with all the hurt, all the rage, all the pain, t...