There is a chill to the morning air
that was not there before. I march and bear
Ultimate Goal makes the journey worth

the Sacrifices. I take refuge
in the unlit room. empty cistern
once filled with Living water

Be empty no more, room of dancing
Colors and Light!
Wake to the Sonrise, to the call of greater things to come!

The night is over, the sleepless hours past
Enrapture yourself in the robe of rainbows
Bask in the peace that you have forgotten

Remember the One whom you reflect
imperfect vessel mirroring perfect Love.
Peer through the blur, past the dark veil

and into the day of the King’s courts
for grace is abounding, death abandoned
a broken heart with broken dreams

dwells healed inperfection.

I trust You with me, with my very core,
I experience Your love more and more
So why is it so hard for me
to trust You with my family?

Perhaps it is because I must lose
control of that which I never knew.
And I have no control
over their very soul.

I know this to be true
this wisdom spoken here
But I cannot seem to stop
this ever-gripping fear.

Free me once again, O Lord,
from chains I have worn long.
Cut them through with Your mighty sword
Your Word shall be my grateful song.

There was a short while when I was, too. Not to the extent of some, who run off into poor relationships, but enough that it called for prayer.

And you know what? G-d answers prayer. Not just in the small things, like asking for contentedness with where I have been placed. Or for me to recognize that my value is in Christ alone. No, He answers much bigger things, too.

Like why it is that I have to continue waiting for certain things to be resolved. This is not a question I even asked. I became content with waiting. And He answered my unasked question, one that I didn’t even think to formulate.

“To prepare you for things ahead.” What a glorious and terrifying answer! To converse with the L-rd, to be a close treasure! But terrifying nonetheless. As a little girl, I realized that I would face things that I would rather avoid. But the funny thing is, I trust G-d. Unconditionally. I may not know where I am going, and the only certainty is that I will need preparing, but I do know this. G-d is here. And He will be my loving, refining Father to the end.

A short story, just for the heck of it….

Why am I up here? Well, that started years ago, before I even began to climb. See up there? There is a man, climbing up the mountain. He started ages ago, but the mountain is so big that he is only a third of the way up. Many say that he was a fool to take on such a challenge, especially with the new bridge that connects the towns. “There is no need to climb,” they say. But he just looked at them, and smiled a little. “But the climb, though bitter, is sweet.” No one knew what he meant.

He has been climbing that mountain ever since. And I’ve decided to join him. I’ve been trying to catch up for weeks, now. I’d like the chance to talk with him, and maybe we could even climb together.

And the climbing is rough. I have been struggling so long uphill that I am tempted to just sit down and never move again. I look back, and see the wild beasts that I survived, but I have no wish to see the ones that wait, lurking in the clouds that I must meet before the summit. And I am still so far! But I know that if I just sit, I’ll end up slowly sliding downwards. Seeing him up there encourages me. I know that if he made it that far, so can I. So I keep on trying to climb, so that we can travel together. I’ll encourage him, and he me.

But if I climb, that means a renewal of strength, which I have yet to have. I haven’t sat down just yet. But I am bent double against the winds, and my breathing is laboured. I know that it is worth it. I know now what he meant when he said that the journey is bitter and sweet. The climb is almost like a tainted Christmas. It is sweet, because of the hope for future Christmases, but the bitterness of the broken present is still there. Bittersweet. The climb is worth it, even if there is a bridge.

But now that I think about it, I’ve never seen someone return from that bridge. I wonder if they ever made it to the other town?

Though it is almost May
my heart is restless
yet in Your will I will stay

I never understand how its for the best
but I’m learning to trust You
So in You I find rest

I’m closing my eyes to
the things of this twisted world
and taking the leap. For You.

At first glance, my heart was sold
and now I am Yours forever
ready for You to shape and mold

I know this bond will never sever
but some have told me that it will
I chose to believe that You’ll love me forever

Because real love doesn’t bail
even when the waves roar
and life makes it hard to sail

And You are real, to the very core
true and perfect Love
You last forevermore

Transform my darkness into a dove
my black heart yearns for You
and Your unfailing Love.

When the world seems dark, close not your heart,
open your soul, little one. Do you see Me?

I am the whisper of encouragement, the memory of summer nights.
I am the sparkle in his eyes, the dancing Northern Lights.

Do you feel Me now?

I am the fresh morning wind, the laughter in your soul,
I am the smile on your lips, the One who makes you whole.

Do you see Me now?
Do you remember what I’ve saved you from?
Do you doubt my ability to do it again?
How is this time different?

Don’t forget the past.

I love you.

So trust me.

He is strong, and devoted.
He is faithful,
always coupled with the Light.

I watched them dance last night.
He was silent this time, watching her.
But the Light danced ceaselessly.

I could see her laughing.

Her laughter fell in little drops
all around, and the joy spread throughout.

I smiled, welcoming her soul.
Soaking it in, catching each little sphere on my eyelashes.
Breathing it in, each little whiff of damp earth.

The rain refreshes me
and the Light invigorates me.
But he was silent tonight, which makes me wonder…

Where did his booming laugh go?
Did he see something on his travels,
something that broke his heart?

Or is he simply so in love
with the dancing Light,
that he is perfectly content-
past the point of laughter?

I wonder…

There is one spot that my Friend and I have been working on lately. It used to have rose bushes in it. Beautiful ones, the heart of that garden. But now, my Friend and I are removing those rose bushes. They are lovely, but they don’t belong in my garden. I wish I knew what did.

Nonetheless, we tear at the earth, ripping those fragrant roses to shreds. We finally finish, and I begin to cry when I see the blood-red heap that covers the grass. I feel a pair of arms around me. “Oh, Precious, don’t you see? The roses are gone because they were not meant for you. It isn’t that you don’t ‘deserve’ roses. This isn’t based on what you do or what you have done. You, my precious darling, are simply destined for something else.” My tears begin to slow to the tempo of my Friend’s heartbeat. Finally, they stop. I stand up and wash my face in the creek. “But what is wrong with the roses?” I walk over to the mound of red. Even in death, the aroma enticed me. “There is nothing wrong with roses. You just have another flower on the way.” I look up into my Friend’s face. “Another flower?” I tried to picture what they might be. Something special. Not as common as roses. I imagined that they had an even better scent. Their shape was simply their own. Something completely unlike every other flower…

* * *

I wake up to the thrum of a hummingbird close to my head. I had fallen asleep, snuggled in between some stray ivy with my face pressed into the yellow tulips. I don’t know how long I have been asleep. There is a chill that embraces the mist rising over the creek. The sun must be on its way back. Where the pile of discarded roses were, there is a raspberry bush. I pick a few and snack on them as I meander, searching for my Friend. I pass a bare spot that has obviously been prepared for something special. Just when I begin to worry, my Friend turns the bend by the waterfall.

Orchids! My favorite.

My faith is weak. Its been taking a beating lately, and my faith is currently lying, mostly dead, deep somewhere in my chest. I can feel it fading, shriveling into a wilting flower that longs to grow.

But the growing pains discourage it. Growing in faith means growing in trust. And how do you grow in trust when everyone fails you? Why should God be different? I do not deserve for Him to be faithful to me.

So I am stuck, with my faith shriveling, and me longing for it to grow, but afraid of the Gardener. I trust God in the small things. I trust Him when He wakes me up to another day. When I walk alone in the darkness. When others are mad at me. When my family is hurt. But trusting Him with my dreams and with my future is so much more difficult. Because, even when everything else was falling to pieces, I still had my dreams. Giving them up would be giving up all control. But gaining true communion with God. I know its worth it, and I know I have to do it, as a way of me proving to God that I love and trust Him. In a less dramatic way, I am giving up my Isaac.

But I don’t really know how. When you spend your whole life holding on to the steering wheel, how do you let go? Your fingers do not know what its like to be unclenched. I’ve been removing them one by one. And now, I am finally on the home stretch. I am not going to back out now. So here I go.

God, I trust You. I know that I can, because You’ve pulled me through in the past. I know that You won’t bail on me, because You promised not to. And You’ve always kept Your promises. I don’t know how to trust You, but I’m trying. Day by day, moment by moment, I’m giving it all to You. Do with it what You will. Because Your will is better than mine. To quote a dear friend, “They say hindsight is 20-20. So why not trust Someone who can see the future in hindsight?” I’m Yours. I have been cleansed, sanctified, and made holy through You. I owe you my life. So here it is.

The warmth of silence keeps me still
though I yearn to talk my fill
and share my thoughts, my memories.

I have grown hoarse
from my self-inflicted curse
by praying it be removed.

But with the silence
comes the Presence;
He gives them back to me.

One by one, I remember more,
cherishing each, each gift galore.

Sometimes they rush in,
sometimes they blend in,
but each one
every tiny one
is a piece of me.

So thank You, Lord
for Your mighty sword
for hacking through the cobwebs

because I’ve grown quite tired
and my situation dire
from my self-inflicted curse.

They’re coming ’round
as, in Your sunshine, I sit on the ground
drinking Your radiance in.