holding hands

And one dream died.

She fell on her knees and water leaked from her eyes, stinging.  She breathed deep in and out, lungs shuddering.  She had loved him- she was pretty sure.  But he loved another girl.

She was happy for this ordained pair... It was how it was supposed to be.  It would be great.  It was a great thing.  Maybe happy wasn't the best word, but rather, she appreciated the fact of it.

But it wasn't what her heart had longed for.  Why, God, had you fed this desire?  Had He? 

Pain gripped her.  "Gripped" is the nearest word that could describe how her heart felt.  But slowly the knots of her heart began to unfurl, too.

Releasing this one dream- this dead dream---

It was tearing out a weight that had sat for a while on her heart.

Her shoulders- shaking-- they were lighter now.



But that didn't remove the rawness of it all.  A hope- gone.

She knew this was making room for what God wanted for her.  A different reality from the dream.  This was a painful comfort to her fluttering heart, almost obtrusive.

And she could reason no more.  She would walk in the hurt until the hurt was gone, and keep her thoughts only one step ahead at a time. 

The Lord is present in every moment.  It couldn't help but come to mind.  She'd walk holding His hand, wordless-- no words are needed when someone understands.  And what a God, to love her even though she was confused, hurt, and even angry at Him.  Who would let her whisper His name when she was overwhelmed and desperate.

That's Jesus.
That is how Melody really felt.

She couldn't see it,
...but the LORD was working even then.