let the restorer in | journal entry

during high school I remember sitting in the parking lot smoking cigarettes with my friends, ducking behind cars to make sure we wouldn't be noticed. those days became a daze where all I had was hits of weed to sustain me. A kid I was, just looking for their dad to come and pick them up and tell them everything was going to be okay. Yet, running to all the things that'd make me the opposite, even more sick than my original state.

i was heartbroken, recovering from the rush of running to temporary highs and feeling like a friend was nowhere to be found - utterly lonely. a loneliness that made life feel meaningless and my soul void of any substance. patterns of codependency and doing whatever I wanted, when I wanted, shaped my childhood.

i couldn't wait for the day to pack up my bags and head out of this state and never look back. i needed to escape. little did I know I'd leave another life behind but still be left with the scars from yesterday. motives that would taint my heart. memories that left me feeling scorched from the fire of my mistakes. 

5 years later, I stand… strong where I've been broken. eager to tell of what love has done and will do when you unlock the door of your heart and let the restorer in.

read this journal entry to see all that is unfolding within me.
and maybe, just maybe, you’ll realize:
God is working in you too.
only he can heal the parts of your heart no one sees.

journal entry

“And the Lord will guide you continually
and satisfy your desire in scorched places
and make your bones strong;
and you shall be like a watered garden,
like a spring of water, whose waters do not fail.”
Isaiah 58:11

“Your people will rebuild the ancient ruins…
you will be called repairer of broken walls,
restorer of streets with dwellings.”
isaiah 58:12

where the walls i’ve put up have been broken,
you’ve come to rebuild what’s been stolen
i build walls that perpetuate what's been broken.
what's flawed. what's full of disdain and disillusionment.
you heal where my own hands steal.
steal my blessing.
i’m sorry for the times I block you from coming in.
now i know only You can repair what is oh, so broken.

another version reads:

“The LORD will guide you always; he will satisfy your needs in a sun-scorched land and will strengthen your frame. You will be like a well-watered garden, like a spring whose waters never fail.”
isaiah 58:11

you’re teaching me to strengthen my frame—
the way i frame things.
my outlook. my heart.

the promise I cling to is that you’re building a garden in me before you do anything around me.

missing a day of writing with you is like missing a lifetime without any shoes.
you steady my feet, set them upon the rock of christ, and fill me with your steadfast love where i pen the stirrings of my soul.

sometimes, i can’t believe how far we’ve come.
i mean, i can—i’ve prayed for the things i now see.
but it’s the inner things that undo me. you continue to do a beautiful work in the pasture of my heart; leading me to still waters where i was once torn apart.

you’ve carved rivers of peace to stream through the barren places of my heart—
where love lost, pain, sin, guilt, and mistakes had the final say for far too long.
you untie every yoke, breaking off what breaks me, every time.
you loose the shackles that keep me down with a love that knows no bounds.
no depth, no height, no width you can’t fill with the lengths of a love that can’t help but spill.

spill, spill, spill, into my soul.
living in the overflow.
and though the overflow feels messy—
you make the mess holy.
you clothe me in righteousness and dignity.
my destiny, beautiful.
my life, a process.

take my life, Lord. take my time, make it all yours as i make you mine—
in my heart. in my soul. in the steadiness of beautiful love.

strike a match, God.
let nothing come too fast or too slow.
let it come right on time like a perfectly lit match.

restorer of streets with dwellings—
you restore the places i’ve dwelled too long.
clinged with dear life onto the very things that were taking it away from me.
made me weak, you repairer of streets.
you’ve seen where i fall short.
yet you take my hand,
and whisper:
let your heart be strong. be courageous.

and i’m filled with strength from the Almighty in Heaven.
dwellings, dwellings, God, you’ve come to dwell in me…to make your home, my soul?

oh, what a glorious God
to fix what’s odd and disillusioned—
to replace it with Your word and perspective, opening my eyes to the lens of Heaven.
you are real, you restorer of streets.
come and continually guide me.

make my heart your home, come in and kick your feet, like you did with Lazarus and mary.

and may i be like mary, too,
willing to bring you everything, lay down the cost of what's expensive to me and pour it upon your precious, nail-scarred feet.

thank you to my restorer of streets, come and break off what is broken within me. revamp & renovate where it's all gone wrong so that you can make a new home out of me.

—

now, i no longer need to escape. or run from the pain of yesterday. i've let the restorer in. i've let the restorer of streets with dwellings captivate me.

where the fire left me behind, I've been made strong again. 

where the scorched left me scarred, I am watered continuously by his guidance. 

where the pain left me jaded, I taste and see the sweetness of life. 

where I had failed in the past and even my future failures, i'm relying on His stream of living water that never will.

i've let His love break down every wall and repair the ones i've created that have brought my life to a steeping halt. 

today, let Him be what only He can - the repairer and restorer of all that has been broken. he’s already making his way home to you.