[Not a "women only" post. Don't let the title scare you away.]
Oh, Father, take this PMS, I pray. It's yours, Lord.
You made me fearfully and wonderfully. I'm certain all this emotion that ebbs and flows within me, with the cycles of the moon, are meant to reflect your wonder. So often they don't; I cycle out of rhythm.
The enemy tries to get a foothold, throw me off balance. The heart whispers discouraging words, my soul uncertain. Failure closes in. Insecurity, tears of despair, worthlessness -- none are of You. Satan's invading Your territory, Lord. I've bitten the fruit that is forbidden. I've heard my name, but it's not from Your voice. I'm being beckoned to travel where You are not, unclothed and undone.
So I listen to hear the calming Voice that I know, the Hope, the infinite Love. I turn to the Maker, and cling. I listen for Peace, Assurance, the Persuasion that nothing can separate me from You.
I move closer. I breathe You in deep, find center, the place where the crossbeam intersects the tree. I stand in forgiveness, mercy, compassion, and let defeat, doubt, and second guessing drain from within me.
With hormones raging, emotions swirling, I offer myself to the Whirlwind who created this torrent within me for the purpose of his glory. I reclaim the cycle the enemy steals and manipulates for destruction.
And once again I am certain, confident, sealed. I clothe myself in my need of You, and wait expectantly for the blood to flow, the cycle to be complete - the shedding of dead, unhealthy and hindering flesh and embrace the cleansing flow that washes whiter than snow.