Monday, August 26, 2013

dear child, welcome home.

You hear it don't you?

That sweet little voice telling you to move ahead, to push through, to come out of the shadows.

You've been lost, child.

Your heart is frail, untethering at the seams like your favorite hand-me down sweater.

It's one of those days, when moving comes unnaturally.
When your soul longs to stay beneath the covers and avoid the daylight.

You've fallen victim to the vicious cycle, the never-ending routine.

Or maybe you've forgotten what it feels like when God's close to you.

Or your heart is
broken, because feelings just weren't what they were supposed to be.

Or maybe you poured yourself into addictions, that did nothing to shield you from pain.

You hear it don't you?

You matter.

You. Your mess. All of those mishaps.

They matter.

God wants to bring you out of this, whatever your "this" is.

He is with you.
Do you feel Him?
He sings over you.
Do you hear him?

I wonder what it would take for you to be still and know.
I wonder what it would take for you to stop trying to be the fixer.

Child, you don't have to come fixed.
You don't have to come perfect.

God, in all of His love, is enough.

He will meet you in your mess. His strong arms are open and his hands are trembling at the thought that you've finally, you've finally returned home. His eyes are twinkling stars, filling with tears, because you're right where you need to be.

And his steady, sure voice can be heard over all the Earth, "Darling one, I always knew that you'd come home. Give me your bags, sit down with me and rest. Let's look at how far you've come my child. Heartbroken, but never too broken for me to fix. Addicted, but never too far for me to lose you. Oh sweet, sweet child, it's time for you to rise out of your ruins, to meander out from your mess, and it's time for you to finally open the door a little wider to your heart to let me in. You were never too far out of reach, son. You were never too far gone, daughter. I have always been right here."

Monday, August 19, 2013

Is this real life?

I am trying to find the words, but they tend to fail me.

I'm going to picture you holding your coffee, sitting in His gentle graces- while I stammer to paint the picture of this beautiful world I have settled into.

It's already been a week and oh my heart, how I have seen Him move.

I've stumbled back into LOVE.

I have stumbled back into the city that never sleeps, home to a million.

My eyes, my heart, I can't keep from smiling, because it's home.

Home to my sisters who are growing into women, passionate for pursuing more of His presence, forgoing tradition.

Home to my students who have graduated and are moving forward, shining their lights for His kingdom.

Home to my students that have been awakened to His presence, doing everything for His glory.

And my heart is overwhelmed.

And so there are moments when my tongue falls into the singing language, and then there are still moments when my soul catches itself, questioning if this is even real, and so I sit and take it all in.

As I write, tears fill my eyes, because yes, I'm home.

I finally made it.

My bags are unpacked. My heart is heaving a sigh. My soul can't contain the joy.

And so as this journey begins, I pray you'll join me in praying that I can fully let go.

Pray that I can rise above fear of the language, once and for all.

Pray that I can be used in as many lives as possible.