Tears are making trails through the ashes of yesterday. On my face, He paints beauty, with them both.
-February 2015 (journal entry)
8 You’ve kept track of my every toss and turn
through the sleepless nights,
Each tear is collected in Your bottle,
each ache written in your book.
He is taking my tears, looking upon each one individually. Reverently, you collected them in Your bottle.
To me they are all mixed together in a sea of grief. But to the Lover of my soul, they are like a jar full of multi-colored sea glass. Each one individual in its shape, significance and color; collected for their beauty and potential qualities. As He holds the bottle, His holy light shines through them, creating some kind of supernatural beauty, as this light reflects and dances off of my soul and into my small world.
He takes my tears and mixes them with the ashes of yesterday’s remnants. And He paints… beauty rises from what was so sad and grey. Revealing… the reason for it all… that a masterpiece is being made.
He presses in… on all sides. Protecting, loving and tracing the trail of tears yet to come. My ashes, hurts and weariness… are all on His hands. And the pressure applied, produces diamonds, from the ashes of my life.