I’m a simple girl. I like to read.
Read between every line and know exactly what you’re thinking
Thinking maybe I can be better
Better myself enough to know I’m capable of keeping
Keeping me, low profile, full throttle until I’m running on empty
Empty all my tired thoughts in a bucket and pour them out like a well of tears on paper
Paper men can’t stand long
Longing to feel you, deeply know you, know you love me
Me, I’m a simple girl.
I like to read
Paint me in colors only you can see. Vivid and full of life. Free from dull and gray.
Sing me in melodies unheard to human ears. An aria of mystery and beauty, sweet and precious to the orchestra of heaven.
Build me as a monument to your praise. Standing tall and strong in the face of the giants that would try to shove me over. A testament of your goodness despite all odds.
Make me humble, childlike faith that rests in your strength instead of ability given from your hand and misused.
Give me your eyes, your ears, your words.
Above all, give me your love and let me share it with the world.
Potter, with hands that shaped the heavens, too grand for us to grasp, reach deep into my heart.
Grab and grip my pride, my being, until I remain nothing more than…
malleable.
I’ve been buried.
The weight of the dirt is pressing hard against my skin.
I feel bruises forming but in true ‘tough girl’ fashion, I pull hard to hold in the tears and fight to stand against the pressure.
The earth sticks and cakes my lungs with mud as I breathe deep and will myself to keep going.
“I am Iron Man!” I repeat to the masses in hopes they won’t learn of my weakness.
Still, the charade is up and I fear I’m exposed, insufficient and lowly.
The lifter of my head leans low
Reminding me I wasn’t designed to carry the weight of the world on my Gumby shoulders.
His strength in weakness perfected, lifts me from the mire, clothes me in white and I remember to breathe Him in.
I lay my head upon His shoulders and all at once, I see the sky.
The silence is deafening, the noise of fallen Earth muted to hush in anticipation
The bustle of a barren land, called home, preparing to be counted
The movement of a multitude, disruption suddenly backstage, on order of the director, as pregnant maid and man approach.
All of heaven waits eagerly for the glorious symphony to begin
Audience of shepherds to hear the triumphant song of the angels, “Glory to God in the highest”
The exalted one lies in humble manger in this moment when the King of Kings takes his place on lowly earth
Incarnate deity wrapped in swaddling clothes, sent to seek and save
Beloved one, sent to love us with sacrifice we cannot fully comprehend.
The waiting world continues moving not knowing that in one moment everything changed
Here we are, caught in our schedules, trapped by the things that keep us busy
Bustling through the day-to-day, so quick to forget that He is here
He came to hay and straw, to lowly earth and man and girl
He gave life to save and redeem that which was lost
He rose victorious, keys in his hands, conquering death forever
He’s coming again.
This Christmas and always, I am grateful!
Merry Christmas everyone!!!
I’m looking forward to the point where Earth and sky meet wondering if that’s the place you’ve chosen as a footstool. What will it be like on that day when I can reach out in glorified body and touch the hem of your garment for myself? What will it be like to see a beauty earthen eyes cannot fathom? I know the sun would melt into vapor if you would release the fullness of your glory, yet I will see you face to face.
You are too great for me!
You blink and heaven and Earth bow to fade as the shutter flashes photograph and I stand in awe. Majesty seems such an understatment.
I reach for your finger like a babe grips his papa.
Lead me to the place where your glory dwells.
In my own little world I become numb
The small of my back resting in a small little chair
In my small little house on a small little street
In a small little town
Where the green grass grows all around, all around…
The days go by one by one like a blur and I forget to open my eyes
Perspective is a thing gained in increments, easily ignored, or swallowed forcibly
We can either look straight at the moments that define us
Or recover with as much grace possible when life hits hard
I hope to choose the former
So here I am on the edge of the world realizing that there is a vastness so much greater than me
Adventure so much grander than I have imagined
A people gripped by more need than I have acknowledged
There are tears I have not shed in prayer
Hands I’ve refused to hold for fear of soiling my own
Eyes I have not looked deeply into
Thirsts not quenched by the reaching of my own hand
Somehow here, my mundane seems to lack meaning
To make an impact above the ordinary
To excel in the midst of the mediocre
To fulfill, suddenly becomes the only source of fulfillment
I am made full by the pouring out of all I am on the altar
The emptying of self in reasonable service to the Most High
Deep calling deep within my soul
Revealing to me that I only live when I stop living only for me
Here on the edge of the world, I find a new beginning.
In the span of time when today and tomorrow collide, I wait for you
Suddenly the dim is clear, the dawn no longer impending
The new day is a promise of hope and life
All in the space where you are mine
Where one is one the sum of two and we are us together
In this space between yesterday, now and morning.
And I breathe in this, precious gift revealing the endless love of God delivered in the simple yet complex blessing of this communion
Hiding in the shadows, the sinister force beckons
Maybe happiness lies here just beyond your reach
If you could just get a little closer it would all be better
Greener grasses, bigger houses, more money, more love, better friends, deeper relationships…better you
The something more you can’t quite attain but give all to pursue
The something borrowed you want to own
Others have and you covet
The goals you haven’t reached
Chances you haven’t taken
Questions you keep puzzling until the answer is lost beneath the mystery
Pain you choose to numb instead of heal spreads like virus to the soul
She lures you until you’re too near the crash to turn without injury
And then you’re left wanting more
Wanting the past to come around again or wanting to wallow in it
You’re blind by the beauty
Then you’re gone
And I sit wondering if anything will ever be enough
He calls from the mountain
Come up here and find rest while you tune Him out with the noise of singing
Beware weary wanderer
She’s coming after you
INSPIRED BY THE COMFORTER 
