Conversation with God

This is something I wrote a few weeks ago when I was experiencing some ugly darkness. Pouring my heart out to God and hearing and imagining his response always nourishes my soul in incredible ways. And when I use the word "imagine" I do not mean "made up" or "not real". The goodness of his Spirit is the very life of my imagination, and so the conversation that follows is very real and true. I sent it to a friend and she called it a psalm. I think she is right. The Psalms in the scriptures put language to human cries and praises to God and his response. Sometimes he doesn't have a separate voice  from the psalmist but His movement and healing can be witnessed  as the psalmist's tone changes from anguish to praise or confusion to trust.
So I offer my psalm. (As a sidenote, the voice I imagined as God's sounded somewhere between Asian the lion and a fierce but gentle elderly lady).

My call:

Can I write the pain out of my heart? I hope so. I don't know why the pain started so it's difficult to know what it will take to heal. Everything just feels so uncertain right now. There's an inexplicable anxiety that grips me sometimes. A lot of times. Anxiety over the health of my children, anxiety over my abilities as a mother, anxiety over my marriage.
And then other times I know that everything is fine and good and right. Love casts out my fear. I trust that Someone greater than me is doing unseen work; finding the lost places inside of me.
Every part of me yearns to feel home and at peace. How can I build the house of my inner being on the rock? The winds and rains will come as surely as the seasons, so where do I place my confidence so that I can know that I will be pressed, but not crushed?
You can say, "Jesus. Jesus is where you place your trust." But I don't always know how to do that. Is it with my mind that I must WILL this trust?

Spirit's Response:
I know your difficulty. Your trust must be placed in my love because it is from this love that you were born, it is in this love that you live and to this love you will die. This love is your only home. It is your identity, your purpose. And remember, I am not in a hurry in the way that you are. I will take the time to teach you properly and I will utilize every single moment. Not one of them is meaningless. There aren't any lost places in your soul. They're all found in me. The lamp of redemption will help you to see what you're not yet ready for. I've claimed every dark spot as mine. Every bit of despair, all of the deepest pits, all of the suffering, each misunderstanding, the lies, the nothings, the distrust, the hate, the toxic shame, the chaos and the fear...I've given everything so that I can have and hold all of these deaths in the very nearest and dearest place that I know. The nearest and dearest place is my Son, you see. He is everything to me. Without him, I cease to be Father and Mother. And you, my dear, are in Him. The entire cosmos is. Every atom of creation is held together in His body. Your scars are his scars.
The bosom of holy belovedness is where all of your deaths are held. Your darkness and your lostness do not scare me, disturb me or repulse me. I've embraced every part of you so that you may embrace every part of me no matter where you are. I've descended to every depth so that I may love it and be all in all.
So when you're anxious, I am there within your very feeling. When you're scared, I am not separate from your trembling. I live in your overwhelmed horror. When you're ashamed, I'm present in the burden on your shoulders and in your muscles. These primitive shelters that you build in anguish so that you can keep the company of these fool voices cannot kill love or life, so you're never alone when you make your bed there. Yes, that's right, I can reside in them and even thrive!
I will not conform to their inhospitable ways. No, never! I will be me. I am who I am. I will remain faithful and true to my character. Always. But I will make myself at home with you (and with them for as long as you insist that they have a say on things) and I will dine with you even as you look through me in your exhausting trance of disillusionment.
I will wait until you hear my voice. And then, together we will throw open the door! We will trim whatever shack you are staying in with golden ribbons of joy, and a fountain of peace right in the center. We will add windows and make them sparkle with kindness and mercy (these are the best window cleaners that allow for the clearest possible vision both ways). We will lay down a lush carpet of goodness and fill the cabinets with wine that has been aged in gladness. Incense and spices full of hope can be brought in from all over the world and we can breathe deep until the musty smell of despair dissipates. We'll take the roof clean off so that light can pour in by day and faithfulness by night. All the fuzzy creatures of gentleness will lie down in the green pastures that surround us. When we look at the place, we will hold up our glasses in awe and delight and sing, "Grace! Grace to it!" So many will flock to join us and we will say "Yes! Come and drink! There's so much!" (Because even the overflow overflows here).

What wealth I have in you, dear one! And what treasure you have in me! Rest now. Be still and know that I am God. Your mind isn't enough to will this trust for it does not even know what to trust, but mine is. My thoughts and my logic are incomprehensible love. That love is all I know about you and it is all true. You will know as I know. Keep letting go of what you thought was true. Let go. Die to your will and desire to control, as I have done. I promise you will rise to freedom.