The days of darkness had melded into a clump of timeless goo. I was tired. Bone tired.

The blackness was peirced by one single light. When first I saw it I thought it would be moments before I was bathed in it. It wasn’t.

We walked, my Abba and I.

And we walked more.

He held my hand. I clung to his.

Weariness destroyed my resolve, and confusion infected my heart wound. I had to sit for a while.

He sat with me, keeping my hand in his.

There, even in his hand, I wept.

He kissed my cheeks and my forhead, and then he waited for me to gather my words.

It took me too long. I wanted my words to honor him. I wanted my questions answered. I could not bring the two together.

He knew.

“Ask, Child.”

I pulled my hand from his and wiped my tears. There was no way to make it sound holy. I bit my lip.

“Child, ask.”

He was kind, but firm.

I licked my lips and dove past my tears.

“Abba, what are you doing here?”

Though I could not see him, I felt his jaw clench.

“Child, trust me.”

Shame covered me. I wanted to shrink back, for I knew I was supposed to trust. I just didn’t know how. I started to scoot away from him.

He scooted with me.

“Child, I am not angry.”

Relief shot through me, but I still asked,

“Why are you tense?”

His hands wrapped around my arms and turned me toward the pinprink of light. He sat behind me and wrapped powerful arms around me.

“I love you.”

His love in the midst of my struggle dropped my chin to my chest. It quivered as I tried to blockade the tears.

“Abba, what is this rip in my heart? I did not know it existed before you brought me here. It is not getting better. It hurts. It hurts so much.”

My tears pooled into my chest, gathering into sobs and pushing up through my throat.

He rested his chin on my shoulder and pulled me backwards, closer to him. He wept with me until I could feel his tears running down mine. I raised my knees and wrapped my arms around them. Our bodies made a puzzle, wound around like that. His piece was stronger than mine, it held my piece together.

And then I heard it.

He sighed.

A deep, mournful rush of wordless air came from the Son of God.

The rush freed all of my questions and my lack of understanding. It freed me to feel lost and lonely and broken. It freed me to want someting so much more than what was.

I did not understand why.

“Abba, why do you sigh? You sound so sad.”

He squeezed me.

“Child, it was not supposed to be this way.”

He placed a hand over my wounded heart. His touch caused the tear to open. My breath escaped my lungs just in time to avoid the upsurge of pain. I tried to suck it back in but it would only come in gasps. I tried to move his hand back, but he only lifted it far enough to let me slide a tight fist under his. I pressed on my chest, hoping to push back the surge, but it was too strong. He wrapped his hand over my fist and held it there.

“Child, the rip in your heart…”

I interrupted him.

“Abba, why? Why did you open my heart, only to let it be torn? It hurts, Abba. It hurts.”

My sobs began anew.

His answer was gentle, but still managed to make it past my heaving chest.

“Child, It was not meant to be this way.”

I caught my breath, and all my emotion with it. Though my tears continued to fall, I shook my head back and forth.

“You are God. Everything with you is meant to be.”

He released me, turned me around, and faced me in my darkness. Lighting my soul, he allowed me to see him.

His eyes were gentle, he cheeks wet with tears. He put calloused fingers on my cheeks and whispered.

“Child, you were never meant to be torn. You are my treasure.”

Confusion threatened to morph into resentment.

“How can you say that? If it was not meant to be, then why is it?”

He looked past me, seeing what I could not.

“Choice, Child.”

There it was again. I hated that word.

Choice cost me two husbands. Choice abused me as a child. Choice left me unemployed. Choice kept the life from me that I longed for.

He did not wait for me to speak.

“I will not deny choice. Those I call to love you have great power. They can glorify me by loving you, or they can tear you to pieces. You bear the consequences of thier actions.”

I knew this truth.

“Abba, what do I do? My heart is torn again. I am not even sure how it happened this time.”

He took my hands in his and kissed my palms.

“Yes, you do. Ask.”

I looked past him. The darkness was still dark, but just as he saw through the darkness, he saw into me. I could not hide from him.

“The rip is from loneliness. Why did you reveal it? What were you doing? I don’t know how to heal it, for I have not been lonely for you. I am lonely for….I don’t know….life, I guess.”

He smiled slightly at my honesty. I will never get over the truth that he would rather have hard words that are honest than holy words that are not.

“Chilld, your loneliness tore your heart. You thought it would be mended, and it was not. But know this. I did not intend for it to be this way. Sin is evil child. It hurts others, and it hurts me. Always”

He let another tear fall. He did not want my heart torn. He hurt just as I did.

“What do we do with it? Live with the rip?”

He stood and pulled me up.

“Come.”

We started walking again.

“I will redeem it.”

I fixated on the light in the distance. It had finally started to grow brighter.

“How?”

I had to ask.

“Trust me, Beloved.”

I leaned into his shoulder as he led me.

“It hurts, Abba.”

“Yes, it does.”