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The King is never wasteful with His words;
He speaks exactly. The King is judicious in His timing; He speaks exactly. The King is deliberate in His love; He speaks exactly. To the core of my being He speaks exactly; He speaks the right words in the right moment with the right motive; He speaks His will into being, and it never returns void. How awesome is the Master of Language, to speak with utter clarity to His beloved in all her thousands of tongues, to speak exactly in love. Oh praise be to the King who speaks exactly, and may my soul be open to His words. I take out my heart and hold it, near objectively, I can feel it, but it can’t quite feel me.
For a time it felt too much of everything, too strongly, too fearfully, so now I hold it out at a distance and observe it suspended in a cool, dormant state. From time to time it whirs and revs like an engine about to act and then it clicks off and returns to its waiting, avoiding that feeling of feeling too much. Surely it beats still, and knows of joys and aches and sorrows, but encased as it is in fear, it does not beat so brightly as it was built to, nor as darkly, nor as true. So there it is, my heart chilled and closed in, and I know in my head it is my work, my choice, to crack the casing so it may breathe in open, vulnerable air. Yes here is my heart in my hands, and it is my work and my decision to surrender it to hands mightier than my own, to hands profoundly more gentle and loving. By grace through faith, those are the means and terms of surrender, from a starting point of deeply known and loved, and yet it is work to release it from my grasp. For the heart open is open to pain, for the Spirit grieves, the Son weeps, and Yahweh aches for closed hearts to be open, to know and dwell in their place in the kingdom. So in time I will release my death-grip on this heart of mine and surrender, accept the deep grace that surrounds me, trust in breathing, bleeding life — in time, yes, in time. You shudder and cough, exhausted,
Worn down by life without rest. Hold. Do not crumple into a grumble; You have an inheritance of light, of wholeness. Stand in humility, daughter, son, In confidence knowing how well you are held, Never once abandoned by grace, Nor forgotten by the creator-king. Move in communion and sincerity with family, Reach and be seen, go together into the days, Into the long nights, into the fresh mornings. Go with arms linked, in step with the spirit. |
AuthorI write to process. I write to explore. I write with the hope of sharing truth greater than my own. Archives
February 2022
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