Walls That Hold. In. Rinsings. Out.

Most walls around us hold, within them, rinsings, out.  We neither see nor know nor believe, the rinsings out, that are held, within.  Walls built up, by human hands, and minds, and hearts, around us, are walls, of Jericho.  That seem so secure.  Until they fall.  With our world, crashing, against us.  With wave upon wave.  Of rinsings out.

My body isn't as young as it once was and I don't roll, with the punches, with the waves, upon waves, of rinsings out, held, in these walls, that fall.  My mind has been hit, so many times, traumatized, by falling walls, rinsing me out, of my ability to figure out, how to put them back up, because these walls keep falling, crashing against me, until my mind cannot work, like it used to, work.  I am three days in, to the wilderness, of Shur.  Where the waters, of my heart, can become so easily bitter, in the heat of the day, in this Place of Pain.  So that I cannot taste the sweet, in the mournings, of my age.  

And my faith. Wanes, like the moon.  With the waves, as I pray.  God.  How could You.  Let.  That wall.  Fall.  Why.  Would You.  Let that wave.  Upon wave.  Hit me.  God.  You.  Know.  How much it hurts.  

I have been rinsed, out, by walls, by waves upon waves, too many times.  So I just lie here, now, to let the waves, upon waves, of Grief and Despair, finish their work.  I am too tired to fight.  Against the walls.  There's no use, anyway.

And the waves, keep coming, and these walls, keep falling, holding within them, so many rinsings out.  Rolling me over, so that my world, has been turned, upside down.  Emptied out.  And the Pain is wedged in, to my wrinkles.  And my glasses, of clarity, are knocked crooked, on my face.  And Panic rises, with the tide, within me, at the sight of another wave.  And Helplessness, washes me up, on the shore, of this Sand We Share.  Still.  I am.  In this sand we share.  Disheveled.  Numbed.  And bruised.  My suit... Baring, more than I intend.  

I have learned, though, from all these walls, that fall, that hold, in, all these rinsings out.  That The Way, out, of the Pain, comes, to take me, The Way, in, to Beauty...  Defying.  Human reasoning and fear and strength.  

God.  Turns me.  Face, like flint, into the wall, of human reasoning, falling.  Mercy.  Takes me.  Under, the wall upon wall, of fear, under the wave upon wave, of my strength, crashing, bashing, thrashing.  Grace.  Drags me.  Down deep.  Longer than one would think.  I sink.  Into that entire, interior, ocean.  Of Grief.  Where God.  Brings me. Relief.

And I see.  In these deep blue depths, of the Word, Peace.  Out here, with me, where these walls that fall.  Rest.

And I know.  With wave upon wave, washing over me, I have received.  Grace upon grace.

And I believe.  Our LORD.   Whose Walls. Hold. In. Rinsings. Out.

And my faith. Waxes, like the moon. As I am, being, held, inside His Walls, of Love.  In this world, with all its falling walls.  

So I can just lie here, now, in the midst, of all these falling walls.  Resting.  In. Rinsings.  Out.  Letting the waves, upon waves, of Grace...  finish His Work, for me.  Baring Beauty.  In my life.  Baring Pain.

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