Love has come to tell you that your inner compass is broken.
When it's not spinning wildly, it leads you to dead ends and rooms that are haunted.
As you tread the earth and the coiling terrain of your broken mind and heart, north becomes south, west becomes east and south becomes west and back again. Each arrow of man's wisdom, a glittering mirage, spun by a dark force beneath the ground.
We aren't meant to be mechanics of our own hearts.
Broken can't fix broken.
As you aim to personally establish an insurance policy for happiness, your step hastens, your stride stretches long. Your heel becomes heavy, and your back becomes strained with striving.
God's hand waits open, beneath tightly clenched fists, catching every drop of blood that trickles from stubborn hands that squeeze so tightly around your own understanding that they break glass.
The surgeon's hand is outstretched, waiting for you to drop into it every piece of you that is left.
All of these burdens, you arrange and rearrange, as if it makes a difference. You drop them and pick up them up again. You lose one, only to pick up another. Everywhere you go for help in this world is another burden collected.
Burden's best disguise yet is insight, enlightenment, and man's wisdom. Oh, how we love to be introspective and complex. Philosophical. Slavery is a high-brow virtue in the devil's world. He makes it so tasty. And we are ravenous.
What is needed is simplicity. Bread. Water. Freedom. Deduction. Regeneration. One simple answer. To be born again.
Lay your burdens down, forever. It is better to surrender your brokenness to the repair-man who made you than to glue your pieces back together in a precarious assemblage, only to brace yourself for the wind.
Or, you can make my mistake, and wait until your inward trail blazing sets everything on fire.
Despite their weight, you continue to follow false north, your shards and you. But, I can see the limp you try to hide. I can see the grimace behind your smile.
My Heavenly Father can reach with his Word into the broken glass face of your wild arrows and bend them upwards. He can bring his presence. And his creative power. Not ours. Not the devil's. Not "the Universe's", but a loving God's.
Painful, healing is. When the Resurrection power of the cross regenerates the heart, we die. Christ's new life in us crucifies our shadow selves. Our sin. Our dark desires. The perfect righteousness of Christ, and his hope, peace and joy is an inheritance worth dying for.
God's thoughts are higher than ours. They are about us. He has more thoughts about you than there are grains of sand. Just about you. (Psalm 139:17-18)
Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light. Matthew 11: 28-30
Breathe, thirstily, the wind-rose air of freedom. Let Jesus unlock the cage of your understanding and collapse into His Father's arms in trembling relief. Let him be yours, and be his, too. The door to freedom is narrow and sure.
“For the word of God is quick, and powerful, and sharper than any twoedged sword, piercing even to the dividing asunder of soul and spirit, and of the joints and marrow, and is a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart.” Hebrews 4:12
(It wasn't until I sought deliverance from the world of psychotherapy that I learned more about its roots and found healing in my relationship with Jesus, that was there for me all along.)
Trust in the Lord with all your heart, lean not on your own understanding, in all your ways acknowledge Him, and he will direct your path. Do not be wise in your own eyes. Fear the Lord and shun evil. It will be healing to your flesh, and health to your bones.
So people will be brought low and everyone humbled, the eyes of the arrogant humbled.
It is for freedom that Christ has set us free. Stand firm, then, and do not let yourselves be burdened again by a yoke of slavery.
We know that our old self was crucified with him in order that the body of sin might be brought to nothing, so that we would no longer be enslaved to sin.
1 Peter 2:4
He himself bore our sins in his body on the tree, that we might die to sin and live to righteousness. By his wounds you have been healed.