Retreat not from Hope, My child

I’m waiting for my miracle–
the one You’ve charged me
not to cease
hoping for and
expecting.
But I’m not sure
how much longer I can
hold onto
the words of promise
You’ve placed within me.
The journey’s
been long
and the steep climb
has more than frightened me.
Day after day
of determining
to walk in a direction
my heart resists
has driven me to the end
of my resolve.
I don’t know how to press on
without a fresh infusion
of your grace.
I want to see the fullness
of what You have in mind,
but I also tremble
at how different
it will likely be
from what
I wish.

My child,
how well
I know
your anxieties–
your wondering
about the goodness of
My plans.
I want you to know,
that no matter what
your doubts,
I can handle your heart
in everything it lacks of trust.
The differences between us
are not a gap I ask you
to bridge for us
by yourself.
I feel, with you, your desire
for an easier path
than this.
Yet, do not think
that I have
misunderstood your needs
because I have not
given you comfort
to the extent that you would like.
You are still Mine,
forever.
And I will not let
that fail to be a blessing
to you
all your days.

Now I know that You are good

You are good
and it’s taken me
so long
to see.
Thank You for peeling
back the layers
of my unbelief–
as painful as it’s been–
to let the healing
light of Your truth
shine in.
You are good,
and patient to remove
every doubt
from me.

In pain I’ve found You

Help me with everything
I cannot see
but doubt You concerning
anyway.
I am not a faithful believer,
and yet You continually
give me faith to
make it through
each day.
You have stretched me
to degrees
that, from a distance,
I would have judged
as cruel,
but up close have come
to understand as grace.
You have taught me how my salvation
is found not in comfort,
but in pain that is redeemed.
Thank You for proving to me
in every season
that
You
are the
object
of everything I walk through!

U up?

It’s an hour past midnight
when my phone emits
a silent beam
of light,
announcing
the arrival of
a new text.

It’s not what I was
expecting–I
thought all my
conversations were
over for the night.

Part of me wonders
if it’s necessary
for me to respond
before morning,
but then, I can’t
really answer that
without at least
taking a minute to
investigate.

With an itty-bitty
sum of characters,
a quiet question
is posed:

u up?

The request rouses
my curiosity.
What’s going on here,
Lord?
I ask, as
my heart breaths
anticipation.

The message I send
in response becomes
an offering both
to the person
seeking me
and to the God I seek:

Yes! What’s up?

Whether the problem
be big or small,
I will extend whatever
He gives
in the hopes that
this night He will
be more deeply
known than if
this interaction
had never been.

Lord, I want…whatever is more of You!

God, I want to be
in tune with You,
to pick up
the message
You’re communicating
through the details
of my life;
I want to separate
the meaning that’s
important to You
from the medium
that is difficult
to accept for me.
I want to receive You
in whatever way
You present Yourself,
never insisting that
I am above accommodating
myself to You
in whatever way
is necessary.
Whatever way You
choose to work in my life,
I want to receive
it as the blessing it is:
more of You!