Thursday, April 4, 2013

When a person becomes your Jesus and you have to say goodbye

"What are you taking with you?"


She asked me this in regards to our time together.  Knowing that it is ending soon.  The relationship that isn't, is coming to it's end and she wants to know what I will bring with me from the last two years.

I am not good on the spot.  Words don't really like to come unless they are formed under fingertips and key strokes.  I told her I was going to bring a pocket sized her with me.  My pocket sized Mireille.  Her voice questioning my responses/viewpoints on events and my take on them.  In otherwords I would be bringing grace with me.  In times when my own voice is harsh, hurtful, and critical her voice will be there too, challenging the status quo of my relationship with myself. 



The more I press these keys the more I realize that she has become my Jesus.

Not that I worship her.  Nor do I find her perfect or my savior.

But I hear Him in her.  I hear Him in her voice, her words, her insights.  There have been times when I have sat mute with a mind full of words but not a sound to be made; and it is as if Jesus has given her the words to say.  I have almost felt Him whispering them to her in her spirit, because that is the only way she would have known.  Known how to speak grace into the hateful spiteful words that encompassed my mind, to break through that cloud of self loathing and shame. Her ability to speak the unspeakable for me.  It is the first time I have ever felt understood.  It was a super natural understanding.  The same Jesus who walks the echoing hallways of my memories also lives inside of her and He was letting her in without me saying a word. 

I will miss her and her Jesus voice.  Her ability to listen to words that haven't been spoken.  It is a rare gift. 

I am not sure yet how I am going to be able to say goodbye, because how do you say goodbye to someone like that in your life?  But I will have to and it is coming.

Can you relate?  Have you been here? 

I keep thinking of that day in heaven when I get to run up to her and I will get to say, "Look, look, I made it!" and she will get to see me twirling instead of falling. I will be able to grab her hand and tell her the rest of my story.  I will get to paint the images of the roads I was able to journey with words that no longer need to be typed because she and her Jesus voice helped me to start walking again.  And it is that day that will allow me to get through the soon coming goodbye day, because the goodbye is only temporary in the eternal scheme of things. 


Linking up with Emily and Imperfect Prose

6 comments:

  1. "The same Jesus who walks the echoing hallways of my memories also lives inside of her and He was letting her in without me saying a word."

    This post was absolutely beautiful. So proud of you. Thank you so so much for sharing your heart with us.

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  2. Brenna's right - this post is absolutely beautiful and it makes me want to weep. What a gift, to have a friend speak to you in her Jesus voice. What a beautiful thing, that you are where you are now and not where you were. What a glorious thought, of you twirling in heaven one day and sharing the rest of your beautiful journey... and it is, and it will be more. I'm proud of you, too.

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  3. Thank you Amber. "What a gift, to have a friend speak to you in her Jesus voice." That word friend glares at me here. It is that internal struggle of counselor not friend. Trusted and ached for friend, but yet still only counselor. (I hope that makes sense) It is that internal tug-o-war of defining boundaries and wanting to tear them down, but not being able to. Such a struggle. Yes, I am so glad to be where I am now from where I was. I just wish I had made this journey much more wisely than I have, but that is a discussion for another time and another day. Thank you.

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    1. Ah, yes. I relate to that, from both ends, Karmen. It is indeed an internal struggle. I have been the counselor defining boundaries and at times wishing I could tear them down, too - probably one of the reasons I decided, at the end of my formal education, that I would more enjoy being a friend than a counselor. I will pray for you, and who knows? Maybe that ached for friend is up the road. I would love that for you.

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    2. Thank You Amber, I am glad you were able to decipher my 3 am ramblings. ;)

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