You ever just sit and think about how EXCELLENT He is? I have had time to do just that, as I’m sure you can tell by my minature hiatus.
I’ve gotten a little behind but now I’m back.
Or, since I’ve spent some of that time meditating on Him, shall I say I’ve actually gotten ahead?
So, my birthday is in four days, and the original game plan to be with my husband on that day is shifting back another however many days, weeks, months– I don’t even want to think about it! Apparently we’ve made plans for ourselves that Yahuah did not ordain.
That must be the reason right? Or are we not asking enough? Are we not supposed to be one body? Are we missing a vital step? Are we repeating the same step over and over?
I’m longing to know the answers. Maybe there aren’t any. Maybe the only resolution is patience. Maybe I should just keep waiting.
I’ll admit that it is harrowing some days, particularly at night when the bed is cold, on Shabbat when the fellowship is scarce, as I cry and the physical consolation is none.
I put my trust into HaYah. I know who He is, what He does, why He does it, and that He works on His watch–not man’s. Abraham lived in silence for over 20 years. David became king before puberty. HaYah swore over us 400 years of affliction before from slavery. Time is in His hands. It all belongs to him.
The struggle of accepting his perfect timing stems from fear, I think. At least for me. Fear that I’m missing out. Fear that I’m not where I should be. Fear that HaYah is holding back on me. Fear He doesn’t think I’m ready or even worthy.
These thoughts should be nowhere in my sphere. Still, I just sit and wonder sometimes where, when, how as things begin to look more and more impossible.
But He is The Living Power. He shows up right on time. I will keep Him exalted. I will keep professing His Goodness. I will rejoice in His Salvation as I wait. My expectation is on Yahuah. I lift mine eyes upon the hills, from whence commeth my help. I will hold fast onto My Savior.
I’ve been struggling with this lately in light of the few rough patches in my budding marriage. Money, communication, quality time– all on top of the distance. Things are rough, to say the least. My dis-ease and discomfort have been at the root of my poor attitude, combative demeanor, and unbridled tongue for a few days. I’ve been moody, absent-minded, and dismissive– and I can’t even blame my menses because they’ve passed weeks ago.
A known fact is that femininity constricts itself when it feels unsafe. Femininity shrivels up with feelings of not being secure. Femininity becomes combative in the face of misuse and exploitation.
Pregnant mammals’ bodies refuse to give birth when mama senses enemies around. She’ll lock up and shut down in the midst of laborious agony, and often times die with her babies still inside of her. I honestly feel this is a major parallel for the high prenatal, delivery, and post partum deaths that plague Hebrew women–more than that of any other group of women.
Not to get off topic, I say that to offer myself some sort of consolation, or comfort, or justification maybe. Just to follow up with a question:
Do I not feel safe?
But He is SO good. Shouldn’t I always feel safe?
I guess the truth is, He never changes, He is The Protector of His Bride (His People), the Maker, The Redeemer, The Healer, The Fortress. He gives us peace. It is always there. Sometimes, we just have a difficult time feeling it.
It’s there. He is always there. We just have to realize Him. Actualize Him. Remember Him. Exist in Him.
I have no reason to lock up and shut down and refuse to birth the life implanted in me by My Creator. Even HaMashayach, who was in the face of death, drank of the cup that YHWH put His name on.
So me, in my little me-ness of existence, shall drink of my cup. I pray, Abba, I beseech thee– give me this mountain. I will slay all the giants thereon. Amen.
My name Raabasha means ‘Abundant Favor of Hayah’. The latter half, Alohalani, means ‘The Love of Heaven’. In totality, my existence is a testimony of the Love of Heaven: The Abundant Favor of Yahuah. He is the portion of mine inheritance and of my cup. He maintains my lot.
My bonding verse is Psalm 16:5; it contains my whole name.
“HAYAH is [the] part of mine heritage, and of my passion; thou art, that shall restore mine heritage to me.” (Wycliffe Translation)
“HAYAH is the portion of mine inheritance and of my cup: thou maintainest my lot.” (King James Version)
I love both versions, but the Wycliffe, which is older than any translation post Latin Vulgate, just has a livelier vibration.
My name means I know the I AM and I know I AM. It means I wait because He is my portion. It means I am abundant in His favor. It means I know what makes Heaven happy: the Joy of Yahuah.
He is too good for me to not rejoice. He is too good for me to be in a stupor. He is too good for me to not talk about how good He is– especially when I don’t fee like it. I forgive myself.
He is restoring my heritage to me each moment. I am accepting it, even the rough parts. I accept this mountain, and I will slay every giant thereon. Amen.
This was not meant to be more than a little rant, but I hope at least that you accept what you’re going through not as something in your way, but as a part of your way, to cultivate in you something that wouldn’t otherwise grow.
I know I have. Patience is where I am. I wonder why people in the waiting room are called patients. I’m definitely in The Room of Waiting. Am I a patient patient? One thing is certain, time will testify of that.
