Where Do I Put My Emotions?

I’ve always been emotional. I laugh, I cry, I pout. I didn’t know where to put all these feelings when they rose up in me. 

Then the Father started to slow me down and talk me into giving it to Him. He smiles and says come. He extends His hands when I expect them to be cold and closed. He runs to me when I expect Him to be back-turned. He holds me where I’m at. He meets my fearful eyes with kindness. He waits for me to speak and share. He opens His heart as I pour out mine. Slowly, I discover the great exchange. 

Not once does He utter those words, “you should have known better.” Never does the look of disapproval cross His eyes. He gives me His warmth for my cold. 

So I’m learning. To place each tear, each hurt, each wound, each bitter-rooted anger in His opened waiting palms. I talk to Him, come to His lap more often than I used to. I frequent His house. It’s slowly becoming my home. He shows me my room He has made for me. I sit and lay my head down. I rest and let Him hold my heart and not just the things I do for Him. I discover in this place, that I’ve been trying so hard to fix things on my own. 

Accustomed to independent problem solving, just one pair of hands and one mind I didn’t know how to let Him help. So I just raise my hands and sing His songs when I’m with others who are doing the same. Then crawl into my bed and try to solve the puzzle of my heart alone at night. 

I used to keep all my emotions tied up in a bundle within my heart until they collected dust and fermented into a deep bitter taste. But they grew and grew until I could no longer keep a lid on them. They would tumble over awkwardly and block my path.  They would invade and intrude rudely everywhere. 

But He came and said give them to me. Give it to me, over and over again. Until I am convinced He means what He says. 

He is teaching me the Gospel. The one I thought I knew so well but was actually a stranger to. Line by line, washing me in His truth. It’s growing on me, the Gospel. I discover the foundation underneath me is not covered with my own fingerprints but His. He has paid the price so now I am righteous and holy. There is no emotion too much for Him. No anger too strong for Him. No bitterness too deep for Him. He has done it all, and all that is His is mine. I am clean, I am pure, I am righteous, I can come. 

Thank You Jesus.