But as for me, I will always have
I will praise You more and
I don’t like being up early. But here I am, on the couch as the world out my window slowly unveils itself from the misty charcoal. All week, my right arm has felt like a nerve pinched; I still have tiny doses of fear that I’ll fall apart from my health trauma.
God, You have been so good to me.
Sometimes, I am still afraid.
Sometimes, I still don’t see this world as You want me to.
Sometimes, all I see is myself.
You bring me from the barren places and set me high on a steady rock; my feet firm in Your truth. Perhaps I will always falter at points, but I will always have hope. You have taught me that much, to ask without doubt, look to joy, to always have hope.
Banana cream oatmeal this morning. Here’s to being healthy, in habits, action, and thought.
God, You have transformed the patterns of my mind.
Sometimes, I wish I were more.
Sometimes, I want to be fearless.
Sometimes, I believe I can use my life to make a difference.
You have done deep healing work in my heart—literally, with closing the holes in my aorta, and also emotionally, binding up my scars and wounds and restoring me to my first love in You. Surely, You have shown me great goodness in the land of the living.
Now, light has opened to a pale gray, brush of clouds low in the sky. The street is seeing more traffic—here comes the world awake in my little area of the world.
God, You are my sustenance and strength.
Sometimes, the dreams in me beat against my chest so loud I fear I’ll tear in two.
Sometimes, I wonder if they are enough.
Sometimes, I settle.
But Your voice calls reminds me who I am in You and who You have formed me to be. You have brought me this far not to settle but to live my life in full. For abundant joy, and I am beginning to know for the first time what that looks like, and that it is OK.
You claim more than OK for me, for all who lean into You. Help me not to forget.
Oh God, help me not to forget Your beauty is my breath.