with you. 

quiet the thought 
that says, you are in
this waiting room forever-

I can feel the heat rise to

the surface, sweat over what

I’ve yet know. mystery of the 

Father whispers, I love you so.

Don’t wring your hands, hear my

song over your slumped frame,

Beloved, welcome home. I am

I don’t remember the last I wrote a poem for only  5 mins in the quiet, but it was a little scary. Also, the last line resonates with what I read this morning. All I can see in my mind is a blurry image of him wrapping me in his arms. And the biggest smile ever. I subconsciously think Jesus is gone in the wait, but nope. He just keeps on singing, even if I am VERY slow to hear. 

I’m thankful he delights in me so. 🙂

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2 thoughts on “with you. 

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