Wounded and forsaken
I was shattered by the fall
Broken and forgotten
Feeling lost and all alone
Summoned by the King
Into the Master’s courts
Lifted by the Savior
And cradled in His arms
I was carried to the table
Seated where I don’t belong
Carried to the table
Swept away by His love
And I don’t see my brokenness anymore
When I’m seated at the table of the Lord
I’m carried to the table
The table of the Lord
Fighting thoughts of fear
And wondering why He called my name
Am I good enough to share this cup
This world has left me lame
Even in my weakness
The Savior called my name
In His Holy presence
I’m healed and unashamed
You carried me, my God
You carried me
I have been on a writing strike of sorts.
In some ways, it has been voluntary, but mostly, I have had a difficult time recently pinning down my heart and being able to express myself in words.
Let me rewind back to when I first found out medically speaking that I cannot have my own children.
My strike started then...a lot of confusion
and deeper heartache that I've ever experienced
It has almost been as if there is a deep part of my heart that has been wounded...
unable to be accessed by anyone.
I have gone through a season of deep sadness.
I feel a lot, but I have been unable to identify what those feelings mean...
what part of my heart they are rising up from.
A couple of weeks ago, the Lord began to gently open up this part of my heart and expose it.
I was at a class at church, and we were spending some time waiting for the Lord.
As we were waiting, I felt the word "disqualified" echoing over and over in my head.
I was honestly kind of annoyed because I was looking for some profound knock my socks off kind of experience, yet I just kept hearing "disqualified."
That time ended, and they began praying for healing
and sharing words the Lord was speaking.
Someone approached me and began praying for me.
I still wasn't feeling much...kind of numb...frustrated.
A friend of mine went to the microphone.
I heard her speaking, but I was unsure of what she was saying.
Nonetheless, she came immediately to me after and spoke the word directly to me.
She had a vision of a skinny cow watching a banqueting table, while people feasted, feeling unqualified...in a famine....unable to partake in the feast before it.
As she spoke these words, I felt a breaking...a part of my heart that was wounded...shut up and unidentified was exposed.
This was it...this is what I had been searching for...
the words for what was going on in my heart.
I have felt disqualified.
Unable to partake of the Lord's promised blessing.
I have felt that I have been chosen to sit and watch, never able to quite reach and absorb of all the Lord has said he has for me.
It felt as if the Lord has chosen me for his second best.
Feeling he has chosen me to just plain suffer in life, to never quite make it.
I would like to say that I have overcome.
I would like to say that I miraculously believe that God does have his best for me.
I would like to say that this portion of my heart has been healed, restored, mended.
I would like to...
But...I am not sure that I am quite there.
I know what God's word says.
I believe it to be true.
My heart still hurts, aches, doesn't understand my circumstances.
I am asking the Lord to carry me to the table right now.
It is the table of the Lord.
A table, where I don't belong...
Neither does anyone else.
Yet...God has chosen us to come...to eat with him, dine at his table.
I am begging the Lord to carry me here.
I want to be swept away by his love.
I know that, when I am at his table, I belong.
All shame...drifts away.
My circumstances have left me broken...feeling alone and confused, but
I am being carried to the table by the Lord himself.
I am being beckoned into the throne room of my God.
My circumstances may not change, but I want to be seated at the table of the Lord.
When I am seated at His table, circumstances have no power over me.
I am simply consumed by my father's love.