I know you. I know your heart. I made it.
I know your struggles, your deepest desires, your most honest thoughts.
I know how you sometimes wonder 'why.'
But I am weaving, child.
And waiting can feel like a death, like you are missing an entire portion of yourself ...
a whole part of your person.
I am stoking a fire. I am always in process.
Child, stop moping. Stop mourning. Stop flashing ahead.
I can't take you there until you are faithfully and obediently here.
Be holy, as I am holy. Be excellent. Persevere.
Allow me to weave and grow you, grow the others I will entrust to your care.
Show me, by faith, that you can trust.
Show me, by grace, that you can be trusted.
You say you feel fragile?
Then break wide open into me.
You say you feel tired?
Then fall hard into this net of mercy.
You say you are disappearing slowly?
Then fade right into the shadow of these wings.
You say the walls are closing in?
Then run headlong into my freedom.
Stop criticizing who you are.
Stop confusing what is good.
Stop controlling how you are perceived.
Stop clarifying what is already clear.
I won't leave you to yourself.
I won't let you fall apart.
I won't forget that I called you.
I won't give away your place at the table.
Stop looking back, stop glancing ahead. And for goodness sake, stop flailing.
Live now, by faith, in joy.
I want to see you smile.
I want to give good gifts.
I want to be your helper.
I want to show you extravagant love.
I want you to be brave, courageous.
I want you to use your gifts ... for my glory.
This is reasonable worship.
Do you see it?
I want to make you more like me.
This life of yours is yours alone to hand over.
I know how costly this can be.
But lay it down anyway.
Then lay it down again. And then again.
Give it away here and now.
Stop preserving, stop holding back.
Stop saving up your energy.
Live loved.
Love others well.
Spend yourself on their behalf.
Open up your hands.
Only "do the next thing."
Receive my love.
Then let it spill over.
Whatever I give, you give it too.
Mercy. Pardon. Refreshment.
Keep walking straight ahead.
Don't slow down. This is the way, walk in it.
Stop calculating, orchestrating, solving.
Stop adding me up.
I am mystery.
And my puzzle is made of a million intricate pieces ...
all different shades of the same color called Grace.
I am the beginning.
I am the end.
You fit beautifully into my story.
You bring me joy.
I am singing over you.
So relax your shoulders.
Exhale that stagnate air.
Do only what I've given you ... today.
Look for me.
Thank me often.
And then wait in joyful hope.
'Cause I've got this.
Abby...the Lord met me in your poem this morning in such a powerful way. Thank you for sharing your heart with others...it is such a blessing. You are beautiful!
ReplyDelete-Becca (Chuckney) Dewey