I want to feel purposeful with these hands and sure these feet are going somewhere…and maybe that’s the curse of the Garden’s labor pains; labor in pain of waiting for a purpose that will never come.
My heart painfully aches today. I can feel its entire weight against my chest and every breath is heavy.
because Your steadfast love is better than life (northwest adventures; spoken poetry; concerts; late night drives; sunrises; pour over coffee; hugs; thunderstorms; painting) my lips will praise You all the days of my life.
May I be like the widow in Luke 21, offering “out of my poverty (humanity) all ( of my passions, my time, my energy, my struggles, my triumphs) I have to live on.”
Come remind me that you are Father because I have a wandering orphan heart.
I’m becoming convinced that love is being content with being invisible, but the exhilaration of being seen.
I’m reminded this morning, the breath I hold in my lungs, even when it feels so heavy, is a divine act of grace in itself. My heart is still.