Make A Way In Me

You hear, O LORD, the desire of the 

afflicted;

You encourage them, and You

listen to their cry.

-Psalm 10:17

 

You are faithful, even in the midst of the raging storm. You are the God who calms the seas; surely, You can calm the sea in me.

Calm the raging sea in me; say to my mind and soul, “Peace, be still.”
Help me to be still and know Your goodness, Your timing, Your ways, Your presence. Joy and hope amidst the hard, my God. I ask for joy and hope, a sound mind and secure heart. 

You are my firm foundation and I climb on top to stand, however unsteady my hands and feet. You are the One who sees and knows all the swirls within me. And You love me, though it’s hard to feel. But faith is not based on sight, but stepping one foot in front of the other in the unknown, choosing to trust You are over all, You are over me. 

Be over me, my God. My good Father, whose plans for my life are good, for hope and a future. You are making way for my good future. Just help get me through the storm, get in the boat and soothe me to sleep as You slice through the waves, guiding me. God, steer me through. God, calm me through the middle of the water, when there is no shore in sight, when I tremble with fear and am frantic for land. 
Be in the boat with me. You know these waters well. You know me well; call out my name and speak to my deep places where You know better than I do what I need. You know what I need, my Counselor and Comfort.

You are my fixed point on a shaky axis. Rescue me, out of Your great mercy. Restore me through the suffering. Give me Your grace for today, but bring hope to my heart and healing to my body, mind and soul. You are able, and You are near.

Faithful One, be faithful to me. I want to see You, hear You, know and experience You in deeper and new ways. I want a way out, yes, but I want You too.

You always make a way. I may not know what that way will be or how it will look or when it will happen, but Lord, make a way in me. I need You. Oh Lord, You are my light when I’m sinking in the dark. Lift my eyes, let me see Yours, sink Your love deeper in my heart. 

You are the God who makes a way and surrounds me. Oh God, calm this sea in me and carry me to steady ground. To Your firm foundation, the Rock in whom I choose to place my hope. Give me a glimmer of that hope on the horizon. Though the waves dash against the boat, the rocks, my mind and heart, You will take me safely through.

My God, do not leave me. Bring me close. Come to my rescue, my aid, and be that fixed point to still my racing mind and soul.

You are the God who calms the seas; surround me with Your strength, my God and Deliverer. Calm this sea in me. Clear the path, the storm, and make a way in me.

Blessed Reprieve

Sleep. A blessed reprieve.

After weeks and weeks of no sleep, then fragmented sleep, up and down and exhaustion playing with our bodies and minds, our first reprieve and refreshing slumber.

Manna for the day.

We have been gifted in our wilderness with God’s manna, our daily bread, nourishment among the valley.

For over a month, we’ve received in this way: just enough for the moment, enough to satisfy us for the day. We’ve received substance, grace: even in the swirling suffering, lingering unknown, chaos whether night or day, multiple hospital stays, and the monster of the mental battle, He has remained steadfast.

He has remained.

Oh Lord, You have remained.

Glorious gracious each moment, each day. Full of mercy, our manna we wash down with Your love into our weary souls.

Hazy light rises over the yellow painted building across the street. The world is rising into a new day, and so are we. Again, all we can receive is grace for the day, stick our heads outside our tent and pull in the sweet bread placed before us, breathe in our thanks, and eat, remember. God’s sustaining love for the hour, His presence enough, His power made perfect when we are weak. But really, isn’t this the best place to be? Weak, because we are made strong in Him?

Weakness allows the love of God to come through. Open hands and hearts are able to receive His daily bread, His grace for the day, the way He woos us unexpected in the midst of a racing world. We are stilled, satisfied. This is enough for now.

Small Steps

Small steps are monumental victories. Keep in step with the Shepherd and He will provide all you need to rest and endure, continue on.

••

COVID is rough. My husband and I both got hit bad; Eric’s out of the hospital and healing well, thank God. I’m stuck on the forever fatigue and am tired of being tired. But God is good, and His faithfulness has led me and will continue to lead. Please pray for a full recovery for both of us though, and sooner rather than later. It’s on God’s timetable, but feeing back to normal would be lovely. Thanks, friends.

Out of Place

Everything is out of place.

The breath in my lungs,
beat of my heart.
Vision now: shapes and shadows.

Jostled, shaken, stirred
and pressed back in sideways;
nothing’s like it should be.

All I wanted was to
make sense of things;
here, there is no knowing,
no moments understood.
Just a picking apart
of what pieced me together,
a stitch undone,
a snip comes uncurled.

Is this mess or mystery?

Everything is jarred, loose,
unsettled, restrung.
A shedding of soul,
carving of bones.

Bring Me Back

O God, You are my God,
earnestly I seek You;
my soul thirsts for You,
my body longs for You,
in a dry and weary land
where there is no water.

-Psalm 63:1

 

Life continues to spin straight out of control, off its axis, upside down. I am left no room to know which way is up, what I’m seeing straight before me. Static collapses my ears, closes off communication with You. I am millions of miles away, getting farther, but my hand strains to find Yours.

I am not meant for this madness, yet this is my life. My every day, off balance, and I desperately try to regain some semblance of control. Oh Lord, it has been so long since I’ve been silent with You, since I’ve sat in Your presence and lingered, allowed You to reach into me and soothe the frazzled places. How do I get back there? I long to be with You, sit before You and listen, receive. But the way this world is working takes and twists my path, dusts the trail so I am not sure where I am and what my distance is to You. I look up and am consumed by shadows, flashes of light.

How do I get to You from the chaos? I long to breathe in Your peace, Your presence, allow You to lead me beside quiet waters. But the pace of my life is frantic, overwhelming, impractical. I want to drop everything I’m trying to juggle and ask what YOU want me to pick up and personally place in my hands.

I long for You, my soul thirsts for you in a vast, unknown universe. My body aches and tightens until it finds You. Lead me, love me, bring my heart back from the abyss. I am nothing without You, and the distance between us makes me tremble. Cast off every distraction, every person, place, and thing that takes me away from You. You long to be gracious to me, as I lay in the dark without direction, without You, thinking of the way we used to be. Bring me back, my Love and Light. Sustain me, my Lord. You satisfy me as nothing else can, and I am tired of trying to keep up with this way of life when I was never meant to in the first place. I cling to You, my Provider and Help. Reel me in, tuck me to Your side. You are my directional compass, my North Star, the One who sees and knows. The One who won’t let me go.

 

Lord, I feel so far away. The pace of life, the way I’m wired, I just can’t keep up. I’m not meant to. I can’t see where You are or feel Your presence. Will You come quickly to me? Will You wrap me in Your embrace and clear the clutter that keeps me from You? You are the One who sees me, the One who knows what I go through and how my heart aches. Be gracious to me and bring me close to You. Amen.

 

Unashamed

Do not let me be ashamed of my hope. Ashamed of my hope for more, for deeper, for richness of life. Do not let me be ashamed of wanting to climb, to reach, to unfold myself and stretch into the impossible. I am not satisfied. I am unashamed. There will always be a hunger in me to plunge into the abyss, the unexplored; the unbecoming of the old and transformed into new.

 

***

This is part of an ongoing series that will share excerpts of my book-in-progress, tentatively titled Grappling for Good: Revealing grace to light the dark. It’s my journey through a year of unexpected circumstances and soul excavation to discover the goodness of God in surprising ways.

 

Praise My Way Through

You are my Redemption Song.
I praise my way through all that’s unseen,
voice echoing from the cavern of my heart,
extracting melodies made from a lonely place,
a heartbreak place,
Your Spirit accompanying with groans
I do not yet know how to utter.
Here I am, all of me,
in the middle of this storm.
Turn this storm into song
as I wait and watch for You to move
the boulders of this mountain
in front of me.
Make a way.
Lord, please,
make a way.
Lyrics take shape,
sharp and soft,
hopeful and hesitant,
as I praise my way through.

Finally

I undress my soul
in the dark.
Your razor eyes
are sharp to see
and miss nothing
as I slip each layer
quietly to the floor.

I reach the end of myself;
You smile and pierce my
shallow breathing with one word
that says it all:
“Finally.”

God in the Clouds

It’s appropriate how incredibly foggy and gray it is. The weather matches my insides.

Why do I have flare-ups of God’s goodness, and I’m grateful and feel lighter, but then I go back to gray? Why an empty, lifeless feeling?

God is there in the clouds.

I can barely muster up the strength or desire for my devotional time today, yet I pry open Streams in the Desert. It’s been a good companion for my darker treks, and today’s entry does not disappoint.

God still has His secrets–hidden from “the wise and learned” (Luke 10:21). Do not fear these unknown things, but be content to accept the things you cannot understand and wait patiently. In due time He will reveal the treasures of the unknown to you–the riches of the glory of the mystery. Recognize that the mystery is simply the veil covering God’s face.   -Streams in the Desert

This speaks to me. This is the only thing I’m able to open this morning. The mysterious veil covering His face. God in the clouds.

In a quick moment, my mind flashes to a story in Exodus. I manage to exert enough strength to find my Bible and move the pages.

When the people saw the thunder and lightning and heard the trumpet and saw the mountain in smoke, they trembled with fear. They stayed at a distance… The people remained at a distance, while Moses approached the thick darkness where God was.    -Exodus 20:18,21

The people were afraid and remained at a distance. But Moses chose to lean in, move closer to the smoke and dark because it brought him to You. You were in the thick darkness.

I take Streams in the Desert back onto my lap from the end table where I set it down, pull out the string bookmark and read the accompanying words:

Do not be afraid to enter the cloud descending on your life, for God is in it.

God is in the darkness, the thickness, the clouds. He is in the waiting, but tells me not to keep away. He invites me not to remain at a distance, hesitant, terrified, but to lean in and approach the gray, the cloud, the dim–He is there, He is waiting.

 

***

This is part of an ongoing series that will share excerpts of my book-in-progress, tentatively titled Grappling for Good: Revealing grace to light the dark. It’s my journey through a year of unexpected circumstances and soul excavation to discover the goodness of God in surprising ways.

Tender to Me

… because of the tender mercy of our God, by which the rising sun will come to use from heaven.  
-Luke 1:78

 

Tender.

Be tender to me, I ask You. To be close, near, handle me with care, for I am made of glass and feel any jolt could shatter my bones, my skin.

You are around me, but do I feel Your touch? How soft can You be?

Treat me tenderly; this breakable body and soul is worn and in need of refreshment, of gentle care. Your love is sweet, You say. Your love is faithful and true. I’ve lived it, but really, what do I know about Your love? For me, it is still incomprehensible, mysterious, hard to believe You could see me with such glow in Your eyes. To be so intimately enamored with every bit of me—that must be love if You can notice anything noteworthy.

How is it that You care for me so? Your character itself is drenched in care, embedded into You from always. But to live and breathe this and share it with my life is too wonderful for me to understand. And yet here You are, imploring me to let You into the soft spots of my heart. “Allow Me to delight you,” You seem to sweetly say.

I have shut You out from the places of my soul that have been the most love-starved when all You’ve wanted was to lay Your hands on them and soothe each tear and burn. True healing is in the work of love—see the blood at the base of the cross, the daylight blazing from the empty tomb’s opening. Real relationship happens when two people make a conscious choice to connect, to share in the beauty of brokenness and uncover their longings in a safe place. I have kept You at arm’s length, afraid to feel my heart expand, receive love in vulnerability.

But now I wonder who You really are, the extent of ardor You have to give. What could it look like if I opened the door to my heart and invited You in to sit with me a while? If I let my limbs fall into You and rested in the shade and strength You willingly offer?

I’ve fought against quieting myself with Your love and it has nearly destroyed me, drained me of everything. Nothing else can satisfy the hole within that is shaped for You. You must be the dream I need to come true.

Show me these delights You have at the ready. Speak quietly to me, tenderly, gentle, with no sudden movements so I may come closer.

You have always been waiting and ready, but You would never force me into closeness with You. You are kind. You wait so patiently. If I want it to be time now, time for tenderness, will You move? Will You show Yourself to me in ways I could never fathom but have been needing? Please, speak tenderly to me, be gentle, be loving. By Your tender mercy, soothe my weary heart and awaken me to more of You. Awe me and leave me breathless with wonder at the waterfall cascade of Your care, Your strength, and beauty.

 

Thank You that You are patient, gentle, and kind. I am weary, I am wary, I am in need of You. You are a tender God, the God who sees and knows my heart, my hurt, my hope. Please, come close to me as I make my way to You, and speak quietly to me to soothe and restore my tired places. Fill me with your everlasting and faithful love, that I can have more intimacy with You. Amen.