You create a path
for me, Lord, level
for my shaky feet.
They step out a story
I don’t understand–
where You bid me come
closer into this love that is
burning up my inside: Father,
Abba, my wounds are so large,
gaping blood like a trail I keep
going back to because it’s all I know. I’ve
read what you’ve said:
You’ll lift up my head, you are patient &
Today I have felt the crushing weight of sorrow that keeps me begging me look at what I’ve done wrong & not the joy over the progress. It says: look how you can’t even speak when someone does something nice for you. You just start at it, what, why are they saying this about me? Why are they being this kind? I did nothing to deserve it. I’m just sitting here.
And then the joy of Abba: but look! You keep answering the phone when your friend keeps calling! You’ve even tried calling yourself! You talked to someone you didn’t know about The Happiness Dare, even while stumbling over your words and awkward pauses! You’ve done wonderful with these even though they scared you and I can’t help but rejoice because you are waking to my love! Slowly but surely, you are making yourself at home in my love. And that is all I ask of you. Everything else will follow.