Psalm 94:18-19

When I said, My foot slippeth; thy mercy, O LORD, held me up. In the multitude of my thoughts within me thy comforts delight my soul.

A word in season. I have heard it said God speaks just at the right time with just the right message. My foot slipped when I least expected it. I came apart this morning in such a profound way, I drove from home with tears scattered on my cheeks and heart burdened heavily. In short I was a true mess. Possibly still am. There I was, coasting along blissfully, a happy tune to my whistle when suddenly I was barreling down and hit rock-bottom.

That was the bad news.

The good news is that I came face to face with God’s mercy in stark abundance. I wept in anguish, honestly laying my heart bare before His Throne. I called out to him in a voice gargled by wild sobs. I craved a physical embrace and hugged my trembling arms around my shoulders in an effort to pretend it was God.

He held me up.

His mercy came through the bountiful encouragement from family.

Wretched, that I Am

You are in the shadows, darkened by the silhouette.

It’s because I am not worthy to step into the light. I have a blemish, a spot, a stain; too many scars. I cannot come any closer, I have strayed far enough; any farther and I would be too far from redemption. So I will stand here. It is my pleasure to stand here.

Then what is it?

My heart. It has been wounded and broken...again. I was here not too long ago, singing the same tune, wearing the same face, bearing the same bruises. They healed but I scratched and exposed myself. I am hurting but I was hoping that if I looked away long enough, I would forget and they would disappear.

I have been waiting.

I know. Which is why I knew to come. Here. To this place. Sins were taken care of here, over a couple of millennia ago. You once invited man to reason with You. That though our garments were red as scarlet, You would make them white as snow. You are He, whom they say restores the weary, and to him who has no might You increase strength.

You could have come sooner.

I was hesitating. I thought You would require gifts, loud acclamations, buoyant praise. All I had was this pit of despair. I could not bring myself to offer this broken and contrite spirit. Somehow, I heard these are the qualities that seize Your attention. So I am here now...broken...in need of repair.

There will be celebration. Your return is precious to Me.

I don’t deserve this. All I wanted was to hear that You would take me as I am and to know that You would welcome me back into the fold.

I give you a crown of beauty for your ashes, the oil of gladness for your mourning, and a garment of praise for your spirit of despair. All for My glory.

Sit awhile with me

 I am at the end of my strength
The next one harder to draw than the last
Tired of fighting back
Weary of the burdens that weigh me down
Sometimes I create them, sometimes they knock and I invite them to dine
But You...
You, with the rugged looks and warm, kind eyes
You, the One they ridiculed and called names; heaping insults
You, the miracle-worker, the One they praised; Hosanna to the Son of David... , before they mocked; the fickle mob!
You, the nail-scarred One
The One they say claimed to be YHWH, the Sinless one, the One whose reign will have no end
The One with thorn marks on the crown of Your forehead, the gaping hole in Your side
The One Peter proclaimed as the Christ; Son of the Living God...
Sit awhile with me
Please, sit awhile with me...

Morning Mourning

Loathe I to meet Him with tears this morning

He, who calls me by name

Fashioned me according to His purpose,

In His image

Loathe I to question His plan –

To critique the stroke of His brush against canvas

To raise my eyebrows at His choice of words

As He tells my story

Loathe I to deny Him due praise

To forget all His benefits

To trust His plan – much higher than mine

To render futile His workmanship

Loathe I to look across the threshold and wish

Despise my path and covet the next

Rely on my strength – which is truly weakness

Trade His joy for ashes and sackcloth

Loathe I to see His scars and forget

His divine sacrifice and the completion

Scatter the price of his salvation and redemption

Offering tears and hopelessness

Offering fear and anguish

But His gift is not fear; not timidity

But power, LOVE, a sound and controlled mind.

Darling Lady

I have been sent to remind you that He has not forgotten you and that He is preparing to show you the great and marvellous things, such things your mind has never fathomed. Things too wonderful for comprehension.

I have been sent to quiet your anxiety and to assure you that He is at hand and He sees the tears that lie unshed in your heart. He sees the questions that form and dissipate through despondency. He knows how long you have waited and even stumbled upon unpleasant detours along the way. He told me to tell you that soon, and you will perceive the greatness of His plan.

He knows the secret petitions that you are fearful to bring to His feet, lest you hum a monotonous chant and deafen His ears with incessant requests. He says do not lose hope, for yet a little while and it will happen. And hope does not disappoint, as He pours His love in you. Has He not already loved you with an everlasting love?

He said to remind you that He is for you and He will never leave you nor forsake you.  Will a mother forget her offspring? Even if she will, He holds you in the palm of His hand and calls you by name. You are now and always the apple of His eye. Do not despair, little one, He delights in you, you are His greatest pleasure.

He told me to pass this special message to you: that He remembers the time He fashioned you in your mother’s womb. He took great care and special concentration, infusing you with the qualities you posses now. He moulded every nerve and fibre, endorsing the uniqueness that defines you. You are the exact representation of what He imagined and flawless.

His Messenger (sent to strengthen thine heart)

H S

Pieces in the Throne room

I am here again. At Your feet, I have come with what is left. The blood-stained pieces of what used to be whole and healed. I have come again with the plague of my sickness. I know you will take it. You will restore. You will shroud in love and deliver me. I am not deserving but I am here anyway. I do not have anywhere else to go. I do not know anyone else with as much patience and mercy. Your compassions fail not. Your steadfast love never ceases. Your mercy is new in the morning. New every morning. 

I am back with a heavy heart and tired feet. My journey has been long and far. I have been travelling in the opposite direction and I am weary of spirit. I have wandered from You and I am lost. Lost in my thoughts, in my imaginings, lost in my prayers. I am lost and cut off from what gives peace and hope and life. I am not now, what I was meant to be. I even have fear.

But You have not favoured me with fear. Fear displaces faith. Love dispels fear. You have given me a spirit of power and of love and of a sound mind. The sound mind drove me here. To my knees, to worship, to praise... You inhabit the praises of your people. So You are welcome here. I have a need and Your grace is sufficient for it. I am in my dark hour and You will rescue me.

I have come and You were always here. I have come and You have kept me. You have preserved what is precious to You. I am here and I am broken. I am here and You are willing; I will be healed. You call me by name. You see Your Son, His scars, water and blood poured out. You remember Your promise made for generations and I find comfort.

I am here and You are God. Forever.

All fall down

And worship…

And crown Him Lord of all…

And declare He is God and forever reigns…

And cry Abba…