Your Song (Psalm 42:8)

I heard it in the heaviness of the fog that sat above me, eyes unable to see You but soul clinging to hope for new chances, fresh starts, and forgiveness from the one who bears larger than his fair share of my wrath.

I heard it in the three-part harmony of giggles and melody, gleefully singing back songs of Your goodness, my soul rejoicing in their praise even as it recognizes Your heart for them is bigger even than my own.

I heard it in spritz of juice and festive scent of mandarins filling the room and settling gently above the chatter of women who trust, who share, who grow, who uphold.

I heard it as the orchestra accompanied my expanding view of the room where we all live together.  Smoothly layering its chaos and order, glory and grace into a masterpiece of family that is as riveting and revolutionary as it is real and regular.

Consider (1 Timothy 1:12)

When I stop to consider that He considers me, suddenly it's the only thing worth considering.  At least until something falls or someone calls.  Yet even then my heart rejoices amidst the broken pieces, because He considers me.

Here we go, from the top
Open Bible, open window
Old words, new morning
Old truths, new mercies
Sun emerging, thoughts converging
Weaknesses many and mighty
Strength in Him alone
Lies rejected, grace accepted
Here we go
in His power
in step with Him

Seasoned

I hate how weak I am when it comes to grace and patience - particularly inside these walls.  Particularly with these four I love most.  I don't want to bark at them or snap at him.  I really don't.  But I am so weak and so tired of the endless cycle I am stuck in.  I'm so weak and I'm so sorry.  Sorry that it's going to happen again in an hour or two or maybe less.  What could He make of me if I believe that my glaring and embarrassing weakness is truly His strength?  What if I just stop?  Just slow down and let His praise wash over my lips?  What if every conversation is deliberately seasoned with grace because it is slow and careful and gives me time to behold Him?

Inside Me

Sometimes I just run away.  A few times a week it is in the form of literally lacing up and running down the sidewalk.  But right now it's just in the form of leaving on the premise of laundry or dishes or something-believable and then ending here.  On the couch in the dark in my thoughts.  Breathing deeply and feeling the oxygen reach to the very bottom of my lungs.  Stretching slowly and spreading out into the edges of me.  Sometimes my Inside-Me-ness shrivels under the demands, small but incessant.  It pulls back from the edges of my skin and steadily shrinking away from the chaos, the busy, the juggling of everything and everyone.  Until my Inside-Me-ness finds itself occupying very little of Actual Me, who is now filled to the brim with Everyone-Else-Who-Needs-Me and I start to feel a little sad, a little empty.  And I run away, to be sad and empty for a bit.  And to let my Inside-Me-ness unfurl itself back into the real estate it was made for.

Gown (Judges 6:12)

Mm-hm, I nod so Christianly as I read the words I am used to hearing.  They sound nice, encouraging even.  Maybe I should write them on the bathroom mirror or put them in my pocket for the day.  And then I hang the beautiful gown of truth back up in my closet and walk away in my stained and grubby sweats.  His words are truth, but sometimes it's just easier this way.  I know what these chains feel like.  That freedom, that power, that unrestrained love?  People might notice that.  A gown amidst the casual, even filthy clothes of those around me?  What might He make of me if I truly believed?

Appear (Judges 6:11-12)

Papa, I don't want to miss You.  Keep my heart in tune with Your melodies and my feet in step with Your spirit as You and I move throughout this day.  As You hover just on the other side of my ordinary life, use every sight, sound, smell, sensation and interaction to tweak my heart, reminding it evermore to recognize You through the thin veil that separates us.  Even as You sit under my oak tree, I just don't want to walk by without noticing You.  I don't even desire the flashy, but don't let me get caught in the flesh either.  Can we just plan to be present to each other today?  Thank you for being the one who is present and on the brink of appearing at every moment.  Papa, open my eyes.