I wait for the tears, lay up waiting to feel them stream down the mountain of my pain, wanting to choke the almost last breath from me, like they paying a debt I eternally owe.
I wait for the ache that burns like incense with wrought scent deep within, the one that for months seemed to eat away at my forever happy.
I wait for the sleepless nights, the heart break insomnia has crafted from my broken pieces, called from the oceans of my no more tomorrows.
I need all of this, to service another night of this honest nightmare, to rock away the once upon time thoughts of happy ending. My mind tries to rehearse the details of my illusion of an eden fairy tale that now has me waiting for tears.
I yearn for this trying red sea to part and make a way. I wake to the stillness of the night with the loud silence of gone I love you, I will stand by you, I am yours. All I have are flashes of dreams dancing on the mountaintop of my pain. My ground sinks at the crack of no promise, no whisper. The tranquil dawn brings with it pieces of distance memories, moments that mattered are now a wall of pity, hoping for an excuse as to why he shattered the priced possession I ever entrusted to him, my heart. Morning is enough to dry away the earnest and possibly honest drawings of my soul. The broken me seeks desperately to burn away. His words are no longer a lullaby of an us, they are void like that of a false witness. The absence of his presence screams through the veins of my pale flesh. Only I was a fool to make this heart his home. Drenched in my aloneness, speaking vacuums of far away memoirs, echoed by day dreams of a forever, the broken me lies awaiting for tears.
But only laughter crawls up the lungs of this broken me, at the very thought of calvary, a love resting and resurrecting for a soul unworthy as mine. This broken me fails to fathom the blessed hope found in this son of a man. I find Him lifted high and all men drawn to Him, as He beckons come up higher and see what manner of love this is. This love that penetrates graves four days late is still in control, as it overwhelms window creeks to my broken soul. How does a love that holds the waters of the world in His hand stoop down to a love that cheated and betrayed, stole and portrayed my selfishness, only to reign over and proclaim ME worthy. It takes all the broken pieces and turns them into a beautiful mosaic display of mercy. Oh redeemed am I, graced by love that cannot be bought or sold, more precious than gold. So long are dreams of a carpet aisle and one bended knee, but till then MY HEART WILL GO ON SINGING.
Till then shall I live as one whose been forgiven, by a sovereign unchangeable love, awakened to a sunrise of endless praise to an all knowing and omnipotent love. This love in all its presence stands the test of time, from the beginning of existence is hand written on the palm of its hand. This love knows no boundaries, shielding me in storms of life and resurrects my glimpses of glory. This love sees me from the throne and considers my sadness its own. This love knows me by name and the words of this love stand hero to my foolish hurt . I am inseparable from its delights and peace that I find .
The night tells my story of a broken heart, but my joy, inescapable, believable joy comes in the morning. No longer do tears hold me hostage. This love is in the business of wiping away tears from the heart. Like that of a praying Hannah, heart ripped before the alter, or those of a weeping mother with a son swallowed by the coffin, and those of Mary spread on the feet of a forgiving Jesus. I can’t help but show off the prodigal new me, one who was once lost to man`s love and is now found to amazing gracious love, God, with red roses bright enough to fill the highways of the universe. Only He is love enough to wipe away all tears.