The Burning Bush Experience.

Prompt#2: Because today my devotion is on Psalm 22, I thought of basing the prompt on verse 1. When have you felt forsaken the most? What did you cry out to the Lord that time?


“Tears are words the heart can't express”
-Author Unknown


To answer this question is to dig deep in my past and unravel the eccentricity of my mind. I have always been a person that has a lot to say but with terms of being left out and crying out my heart; my thoughts are well hidden within the pages of my journal.

I cried endlessly one February Saturday morning a few years back around ’06 or ’07? I guess, I have buried it deep I couldn’t recall. As much as I can remember that is the turning point of whom I am today. To tell the exact meaning of my tears and to elaborate the pain, I would still choose to conceal.

But somewhat, I will try to convey the feelings I had that moment and give a sneak peek behind the reason of it.

It, and still is, up to this point, the most amazing feeling I have ever felt my entire life.

I woke up in daze as I feel the dampness of my pillow caressing my tear-stained face as my hair is tousled messily covering most of my swollen eyes. It might had been because I never really got the chance to have a decent sleep the night before causing my whole body to crumble within unbearable state. I can taste the salty liquid in my lips addressing the emptiness of my soul and my heart.

I tried.

In many months I tried to hide the loneliness that crept in my heart. Slowly, vaguely, the walls I have created have taken its toll on me pushing me to my limit.

I thought I have given up.

But I choose not to.

Silently, I rose up, finding my balance within the swirling motions of the room holding on to the railings of my bed to give me support to finally stand up. I rummaged through my closet trying to find something that could at least lessen the pain my heart is feigning to tell anyone else.

My eyes fell onto something I have carefully tucked away for my convenience.

I found my bible embedded within the corners of the cabinet.

At first, I do not want to touch it.

I mean, there’s a reason why it is hidden.

God, it seems, got tired of me.

Or so I thought.

It has been what? Weeks? Months?

My hands, slightly shaking, made its way to open the tattered pages of my most loved book seeking to find answers to my questions.

“Lord, can you hear me?”

Again, tears started to flow endlessly from my puffy eyes making me look like an oversize panda bawling ungracefully, on my knees, face down on the ground.

People.

Why are people so difficult?

“Lord, can you hear me?”

I took out the nearest tape and plop it down my radio making my cries inaudible to human ears. My sobs and my murmurs lost in the melody of the sweet voice trying to soothe my heart.

“Lord, can you hear me?”

People.

The power they have to hurt you is undeniably terrifying.

The disappointment, the lies and deception, the trust torn into pieces.

It is the moment in my life where comfort was not within my reach. I have always been happy, as if I never had a problem.

It scares me.

People think I am alright but I am not.

I am afraid.

I hold onto the bible tightly as I muttered the words softly.

“Lord, can you hear me?”

I open the pages trying to find promises I have taken comfort years back. I uttered a simple and childish prayer.

“Lord, can you hear me? Say anything.”

I opened my bible and my eyes fell on Psalm 120:1

“In distress I cried unto the Lord and he heard me.”

I smiled.

Crying helplessly but smiling. God heard me.

People will forever leave me, disappoint me.

But God, in every way, in simple ways, in the most bizarre of ways always reminds me.

He hears me.

I think they call that: ‘the burning bush experience.’

Still on my knees, I talked to God endlessly. Pouring out my heart as I rekindled the flame I have long lost because of my mistakes and the irregularity of my actions.

Ashamed but resurrected.

Grace heightened by the moment.

I was wrong.

God never forgot about me after all.