Just Be

 

 

…because of the tender mercy of our God, by which the rising sun will come to us from Heaven to shine on those living in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the path of peace.  -Luke 1:78-79

It’s Christmas. Snow sparkles on the boughs of trees, crystal flakes floating through the air, breath escaping lungs and dancing into the cold. Streets bustle with last minute activity, families gather, laughter bright and echoing. The world rejoices, but only after items are crossed off wish lists, stockings are stuffed and minds are filled to the brim with any and every last minute detail.

You, my dear one, are craving a moment to quiet your heart. I see it in your beautiful face, lines etched with pressure of performance. You fidget, you flounder, you fear this Christmas will be forgotten.

Slow down. Still yourself in the slur of frenzy and a race to rush ahead. Forget the gifts, glitter and ribbon glow, the wrapping, the cookies warm and full in the oven. Stop your straining.

Just be.

Be a silent night, an inky softness in the eve, velvet, expectant and pregnant with wonder.

Be a blazing light, when angels lit the sky and sang melodies no mortal ear has ever heard.

 

Read the rest here.

 

**Photo courtesy of ALTARWORK

Never Been Eloquent

Eloquent

I am timid. I am tiny. I am not big enough to make a dent in this massive, cosmic universe.

I am ordinary. I am nothing special and I have no charm to entertain for hours or a flash of brilliance to liken my mind to those of the greats before me. I have no talent to capture an audience, nor do I have the conversation skills to liven up a room. I have more bills than bonuses, my feet are a little too long and if something is really funny my laugh explodes into more of a donkey’s bray than a breathless giggle. In the stands of life, I am the one sitting on the corner bleacher, silently waving my banner and hoping to not be discovered for the halftime speech. I am so used to the shadows I would pale and squirm if subjected to light. When I speak, words slip and filter through my teeth in all the wrong directions. I am not eloquent in speech or stature; the world around me always revolves out of my element.

I am mere. I am mortal. It’s hard to consider myself of any significance when there are so many people surrounding me with infinitely MORE- beauty, brains, charm, faith. I shuffle my shoes when I walk down the street and can’t keep my hands away from anything chocolate. When the opportunity arises to stand for You, I cower and keep quiet. How can I dare to dream to make a difference?

For some strange reason, You have not called me to mediocrity. You have set me apart and fashioned me to fit a role You personally picked out. And because it comes from You in all Your glory and discernment, it’s beyond what the biggest heart could ever hope to hold. You entrust to me Your children, to sweeten them with a smile and listen, really listen, to their words, to cut beneath the surface and hear the struggles in their core. You give Yourself to me in the buttery sun and milky night, to bid me good morning and sweet sleep in the evening. When I am weak, You are strong. When I am fearful, You build up my trust in Your protection. When I cannot bring my gaze to stretch across the mirror, You coax me to set my sight a little higher.

When I look at myself, I see a sloppy girl who has even less control over her life than she does of her hair. I am not fit to work the field for Your harvest.

But Your eyes are clear, Your focus, certain. You see something else. You see my heart embraced by Yours, and that alone is enough to make me magnificent.

Me and You

Me You

I want when it was just me and You.

When the sun rose and fell in Your eyes, where every wildflower was planted by Your hand for my bouquet. I miss when Your voice whispered through the wind, tickled my heart and captured my soul. When my smile sparkled and shone like a thousand stars because You were pleased with me.

I want our walks again, when light streaked through the trees above me and the forest road went on for hours, went on for seasons. With You I was happy. Pure joy jumped through my veins and saturated my soul. All I wanted was to find favor in Your gaze. Everything I did, I did for You, and with Your hand held in mine. I miss the carefree laughter and the comfort of Your kiss in early evening’s fire glow.

It isn’t You who has stepped away; I’m the one to blame. And now, away from Your warmth and beginning to shiver in my loneliness, I realize how deep I truly crave You, how desperate is my love. I want to throw off all the distractions that have tied themselves to me and leave them on the ground. I want to run and throw myself into Your arms and feel Your strength, taste Your sweetness.

I don’t ever want to leave Your side. You’ve never left mine, even when I deserved to be deserted. Let’s weave our way through sunsets once again, let my lips sing Your goodness and my heart hold tightly onto You. Let’s be something special together, me and You.

Hope Unseen

 

 

Were I to dare to still my flailing heart, what would I find beneath its quiet beats? Were I to peel back the sinews of my soul, would I see a storehouse of expectancy? Were You to whisper into my deepest dreams, would I wake to recognize reality?

I am a motor always churning, a willow in a state of constant weeping. I train my eyes to trace the ground because I fear the soaring lights in space may blind me. I have a heart encased in comfort but no motive to feel it burn.

Dare I be foolish enough to fix my eyes on the unseen? To believe a promise that provokes me in an explosion of expectancy? What if, for once, I choose to chase the wind that wraps Your wonder around my veins?

You are the constant sun in my winter night, the dream that’s always developing. In my most wildest of whims, there waits a life that lavishes all Your joy, Your purpose, and Your gifts upon my belief. Invisible, indescribable, it hovers just above my hands, full and fertile and the perfect fit for my palm. If I dare to hope in the beauty that waits to burst before me, how much power in love could lift my eyes high into the heavens?

I am a timid soul, afraid to fly. But You beckon me to grasp what I have been grappling with and glow in the embers of excitement. Your throne is where my thoughts lay, and I hold the fabric of my heart’s unseen belief at Your feet, to take and spin Your sweetness into my strength, so I may boldly wait for what You send.

Yours Alone

Yours Alone

I was born to love You,
spun with the fibers of Your fingers
to settle around Your shoulders.
I was meant to love You
with every match struck inside me,
igniting a fire that laces around my soul
but is never consumed.
I was created to be Yours
and Yours alone,
so why do I stray and search for love
in so many different places,
filling my time with doubt and
hoping with the most tender fibers
that this time, I won’t get it wrong?
I am a creature in Your form,
Stitched by Your soul.
I am at home.
Nowhere else
am I meant to roam.

Worth The Wait

 

Waiting.

We are waiting for an adventure, to be swept up in a swirl of story, a fairy tale with singing animals and a dashing prince to claim us as his own.

But we are timid. Afraid of all that pulses beneath our veins and afraid to want too much. When we find we are tumbling down a hill of hope, we tilt our head to the sky and watch the clouds spin together. We are childlike, barely breathing for fear one loud exhale might send the whole glass house we’re living in shattering to the ground.

So we step cautiously over the line, crossing into our vulnerability and exposing the underbelly shadows of belief. Sometimes, it is beautiful. A rainbow across the air, a smile sewn on our face. And other times, we are broken, defeated, torn with a realization that there is no happy ending in this fantasy. And we crawl under covers in the secret of our room, turn our face into the soft scent of sadness and mourn for the loss of our heart.

Why are we wired so? To long for love and seek it in the tiniest cracks of our shaking hearts? Our bodies are cool with a yearning for fire.

Yet there is a burning in us all. A raw, ripping desire to be found, taken up in strong arms and never released. To know that someone sees our faults, our quirks, the bruises beneath our skin, and turns them beautiful. Unique. Befitting to us, and only us.

We wait. Wait when the world tells us it is foolish to wish on wings of angels for something heavenly. Our expectations are too high, and if we stack them up again the weight will bring them barreling down. But the tiny torch within won’t falter, won’t lose its oxygen and fold into itself, into darkness. Because somehow, against all odds, against all reason, we are dreamers. And we sit in our towers, hair blown about the wind and belief on our breath, facing the horizon, watching for that prince in the distance, for his galloping horse rushing closer and closer. And when he dismounts, eyes upward and tangled in ours, we will know that our time in the tower is up. That it’s time to fly, feel the flush of forever on our face.

There is reality in this undaunted delight. A true castle in the sky, where a dashing Prince is preparing to profess His devotion to His bride to be.

Let’s hold hope. Hold on to the promise that the best is yet to come. There is a Man who will wait for us, who will always be captivated by our softly breathing heartstrings and the connecting corners of our soul. Who will fight for us and draw us to His side. For He desires His Beloved, and no other will do. Because He knows we are worth it.

Hold Control

Hold Control

Burned.

Taken down by my desires.

Purpose drained and ability cut off.

Nothing to write. My words are dry and stale, brittle to the touch and bitter in my mouth. I call to You with words, but what am I when what is left of me is emptiness and pressing silence? There is nothing I can say that will make me whole, will make You feel any less distant.

We want the truth in this world, but when we hear it, we turn our ears in disgust. This can’t be real, we marvel. This life cannot be so raw.

Oh, but it is. And You alone hold control of the chaos. Discord, hideous beasts crowding the caverns of our minds, where we huddle close together to ward off the damp fear that slices under our clothes, straight through our skin. I reach for pen to convey what the rest of the world surmises, but it explodes to my touch, ink spouting a geyser that streams across my once white fingers.

How dare I think I can solve the world’s brokenness in a sentence. String together differences and disappointments, pierce souls with feelings they only dare to glance at in the dark. I am no better in my writing than the biggest braggart who struts this earth.

Humility does not become me, yet You force this cloak over my shoulders time and time again. Drain me of my musing, carve out hollow closets in my heart. When I push my mind to write, blank pages torment me with jeering screeches, electric eyes. Make a mockery of what talent I once hoped to possess.

You can drag me to the deepest depths, squelch my breath straight from my lungs and leave me anchored under the surface as long as You desire. You are You. You have permission to do as You please.

But tell me, what do I do when I come to the end of myself, when all my fight is depleted? When I no longer look to words, nor seek to solve the inside torment of my soul? As I begin the delicate process of shutting down and caving in, when I do not even care that words have gone, when do You arrive? Because You fall so distant at my door, the timid parts of me begin to believe You will not come again to set me straight. Goodbye words. Goodbye heart. Goodbye self in concentrated stubbornness rubbed raw. Coherent thoughts washed away, flesh so despairingly unraveled.

Where do You begin when I have no reach? How can I stake my claim in new earth, gentle musing, when I can’t get past the blankness?

Call forth fresh wind, clean canvas. Bookmark the page between chapters I have lost, what I cannot write with my own hands. All has failed me. You cannot. Make all this death worth living through.

My pages have stained, stuck. Take my muteness and give voice to all I do not say. Find a space that has not blotted and start Your own verse within the black. You can deplete me as You see fit. But also You can begin to fill my lungs with lines that I have only ever dared to form in the deep solitude of my being.

You’ve cut the timber of my heart, but I hope that what burns in charred embers smolders greater sparks than first emitted.

Steady Footing

Steady Footing

My foot stumbled,
caught the rocks
between my toes
and bent me back,
spine arched,
apt to atrophy.
A steel hand caught
my tumbling body
and stood me straight
against the wind.
He moved me up
across the mountain,
held me harnessed
high above.
My legs latched deeply
into firm ground,
poised to rise,
no longer prone to fall.

Missed You

 

I’ve missed you.

Missed the way your smile lit the morning, missed the way I’d send the wind to swirl through your hair. I’ve missed your marveling eyes and your sweet honeysuckle laugh.

I’ve missed the way you’d lean on Me, resting your head upon My shoulder and trusting that I had you protected. Missed our walks up hills and through fields fresh with flowers, when you’d lift your face to the sky and tell Me you’d never leave Me.

I’ve missed hearing about your dreams and the simple pleasures that made your day. I’ve missed watching sunsets and catching fireflies in the early evening twilight, and holding you in the vanilla hours of night, where your heart shook and tears warmed your face.

I’ve missed you calling out My name.

My heart just hasn’t been the same since you slipped away from Me. You seemed to forget that together, we could do great things. We could do the impossible. You wanted to try it on your own, and now you’re down and drained in spirit. My love, can you come back to Me? You need me as much as I desire you, and I feel your heart searching for Mine.

Beloved, I am here. Waiting. Come quickly to Me. I am watching for the light to lift you up again, because I know, without a shadow of a doubt, the degree to which you can glow.

Press On

Press On

I press on.

Though the road before me is etched with unknowns, though the route from which I came is wound with scars and shadows, I strain my eyes ahead and venture forth.

For You are with me, ushering me forward, willing me to step into the sunlight. You have confidence in my skills, assurance of the depths of my heart. I used to breathe so shallow, used to sleep in fear.

Doubt and darkness have held me long enough. I have caved in to the caverns of my hurt, sat in the mud pits of my failure. My head could barely handle the confusion of my loneliness.

But that was then. And this is now. You are taking over my worry and keeping the cold at bay. After all these months, I finally feel Your sweet scent upon my face.

Let us move in ways You’ve meant for me to find all along. Set me out of the ditch and lift me to Your heights. For I am being restored, and You have desired nothing else.

Forget what is behind. The past is murky and muddled. Strain ahead to what is good, to what is golden in Your grace.

I do not cower. I do not wallow in my wrongs. I press on. There is brilliance up the way that will bring me beauty and truth and wonder beyond what I could imagine.

I press on. Because You are waiting for me. Because You cannot stand to see me stumble another moment longer. Your arms are wide, and my feet are fast to find their steps.

Your smile is dazzling. My heart is longing. Forgetting what is behind me, I press on to You.