dreamless whispers

i sit here on another sleepless night, wondering and thinking again. i can't remember a time when it was not like this. at night when i am suppose to sleep the thoughts come, and they plough through my head joining with one another. i've been thinking a lot lately about letting things go and why that is so hard for me. my father is enough for me i know this, yet it is hard to let go of the things he has blessed me with. my first instinct is to close myself off and retreat, but that is not good. my second instinct is to continue with business as usual, not having the capacity to fix what has been broken, and they continue to hurt; also not good. i have come to the place where i am broken and utterly ruined by his love. i remember a song i was so fond of years ago and i recall the lyrics now as they resonate with me.
"when you have been broken
broken to pieces
and your heart begins to fade
cause you don't understand...

when there is nothing
to rake from the ashes
and you can't even walk
onto the fields of praise

but i bow down and kiss the Son
oh i, bow down and kiss the Son

when the rock falls
falls upon you
and you get ground to dust
no music for the pain...

you open the window
the windows of heaven
and then you open me
and you crush me like a rose

But i bow down and kiss the Son...
though you slay me i will trust you Lord"

since i was young i have closed things off and bottled them up. i say, "God you are my provider and my strength and my refuge" with my mouth, but my actions speak otherwise as i hold on to temporal things that i gain support from. so here i kneel, having lost my support, opening my hands before my father and offer everything i hold to him. i tend to break and mar,sometimes beyond recall, what he has given me when i wrestle it from his hands and try to take control. So where do i go from here?...i was once taught to praise my Lord in all things and i find consolation in that. No matter my circumstance i know my father loves me and that his intention is to bless me in all things, even the painful (romans 8:28- as cliche as it is). That being said, i am broken to pieces but my savior is gathering them to himself.

the boy