The Lord Will Take Me Up

Some of you who know me personally know that I had an interesting summer.  A lot happened, but among the things that happened, I lost one of my friends.  They didn't die, but they stopped being my friend.
Unfortunately, the friend I lost was my stepdad.  I've never had a good relationship with my biological father, and he's been gone for 18 years, so chances of ever gaining a good relationship with him are...well...impossible on this earth.  And sadly, due to his lifestyle, probably in heaven as well.
When I lost him as my friend, it broke my heart.  In this situation, I had done nothing wrong, and I say that with full confidence.  I am the one who was wronged.  And I spent the better part of the summer trying to mend the relationship before I had to back out and protect myself.
There were a lot of questions...mostly pinning his hurtful behavior onto myself, blaming myself.  I wanted to know why I still didn't deserve to have a loving father.  I wanted to know what I did wrong.  I wanted to know why things like this always seem happen with the men in my life, even (sometimes especially) the men in the church.
One day I sat at work, having a particularly rough day, fighting tears.  I just wanted to be loved.  I wanted my parents, my mom and my stepdad.  And I felt so alone.  Abandoned.  Again.  Abandonment is something I'll touch on a lot on this blog...because it's something I feel so raw and deeply.
Then out of the blue, a verse that I didn't remember ever reading popped into my mind.

“When my father and my mother forsake me, then the Lord will take me up.” — Psalm 27:10 KJV

"For my father and my mother have forsaken me, but the Lord will take me in." — Psalm 27:10 ESV

"Even if my father and mother abandon me, the Lord will hold me close." — Psalm 27:10 NLT

I've included three different versions of this verse, because each one is so deeply intimate even in different wording.
When it was my lunch break, I looked up the verse, to make sure that it wasn't a product of my deranged mind...and it wasn't.  It was this verse (in the KJV, because that's what I've grown up with).  And it brought me so much comfort that I wept, and wrote in my Bible Notebook.
This is what I wrote:

"He will take me up.  Up in his arms like a little child.  His arms around me in a big embrace, face nuzzling and tickling my neck.  He will take me up in his arms and wipe my tears away.  I am a little child, my heart broken.  And he takes me up.  Safe.  Close to his heart.
 "He is my father.  He takes me up.  He holds me with arms big enough to hold all things together, yet small enough I'm in no danger of falling.
"The Lord will take me up.  My God, my king, my savior.  He will take me up.  He will be my father.
"He will take me up.  His treasured princess.  I am forsaken...  But I am not left alone and destitute...because The Lord takes me up."

I felt myself wrapped in his arms when I read that verse.
And I still do.
I feel it in the solace I've found with my aunt.  Something I may not have found again had this not happened.  I feel it in the hugs and kisses of my sweet Sharon at church.  I feel it when my dear friend Linda listens to me ramble, and hugs me, and cares, even when/if she disagrees.
I feel the Lord's arms around me in the love I find from those at my church.  The most loving church I've ever known.
Not everyone at church knows what I've gone through during my life.  Not everyone knows what I've done and gone through this summer.  They don't need to know.  They love me regardless.
I want to call out everyone from church who has encouraged me.  I want to write their names in big, bold letters...but to do that, to call out everyone who has encouraged me and made me to know that the Lord has taken me up, taken me in, and held me close, I would need the church directory (for correct spellings), and at least 1,000 more words.
Dear church family, you have been a balm to my aching, wearing, broken and scared soul.  If you are reading this, I adore you.  If you aren't, I still adore you, you'll just have to rely on my hugs and anything I say to you in person to get that across, instead of reading it here.
I'm not fatherless.  I'm not an orphan.
I am God's daughter.
And he has taken me up, taken me in, and holds me close.  I know I am loved, wanted and cherished.