Confusion

Well, my world never ceases to amaze me with its unpredictability. Grappling with a somewhat cynical spirit, as I often do, I would say that this uncertainty in my daily life is evidence of my own failure to plan and prepare, to be more aware of obvious signs which I must have overlooked. But, sometimes the surprises are so splendidly off the wall that I cannot fool myself into taking the blame. There would be no point in arguing that I orchestrated a series of perfect "coincidences" or single-handedly 'caused half a dozen people to act in a certain way. No, I cannot take credit for that, the good or the seemingly bad.

But God is most faithful, working everything out for my good, whether in the moment or merely eternity (as if eternity with Him could qualify as "merely"). And so, when events and situations spring up that I cannot have possibly foreseen, and when I'm struggling through more than I can handle, I know that there is a great Architect behind the entire project. And, even when I feel like I'm drowning in cement, I know that all I have to do is rely on Him, stop struggling, and let Him pull me from the muck. Others will see this new "coincidence," this providence in my life, and His glory will shine all the brighter.

When the choice is put so clearly, between my struggles against a strong undertow and His never-failing rescue, how could I choose otherwise?

LORD, all glory be given to You. You are the only one worthy.

"In his heart a man plans his course, but the LORD determines his steps." Proverbs 16:9

Dancing

Dear Jesus,

My life in You is my favorite dance. "You hold me by my right hand," leading me across a crowded floor. All I need do is trust and follow You. I'd close my eyes to keep from trying to lead, but I'd rather look at You. Your face comforts any fears of collision, Your quiet words preparing me for any difficult turn. You know exactly how I move! Your rhythms are perfect, and every nuance I can imitate, but only because You have tailored the dance to me. You support me, making me look graceful. You bring out my talents, displaying my best moves and polishing my weak ones. You make me shine on that dance floor.

But, sweet Jesus, You are hardly in the background. Yours is the beauty they see through me! I cannot contain the pleasure I find in dancing with You. Any soul who seeks to praise me is met only with my praise of You! I love You so much! You take me from a worthless wallflower and turn me into a rose among thorns. But, when they see me, they can't help but see You. I want Your work in me to be undeniable when they see me dancing. I want them to know what I was before, alone, without You, so that my steps now can only be explained by Your hands leading me. It's You, only You!

My Heart, My Home

A honk. Cars force their way through the crowded streets, sending murmurs of city noise up to the top of the highest skyscrapers. The sun sets to the southwest, a receding glow beyond the Garden State. The skyline flickers ever brighter, electricity taking up daylight's mantle to keep the insomniac city awake. Every light, every building is different. The long corridors of street and sidewalk are rushed by ocean winds, trapped amidst the glass and re-bar. Beneath, trains barrel through dark tunnels, wheels screeching on well worn tracks. In the heart of Manhattan, signs and banners attack the eyes with radiance and color rivaling Vegas' best. People pour off of street corners, and Broadway lights declare hip culture, sharp comedy, and show music at its finest. To the north, acres of trees and grass beckon with promises of rest, retreat, and romance. Ships float in and out of the harbor, and Lady Liberty welcomes each of them proudly. The entire landscape itches with excitement. Everywhere, everything is happening.

But as much as I love New York, it's not home.


A rustle. Squirrels chase each other down a sapling, scaring a bird of its quiet roost. The scent of pine and chill of sunrise rush the senses with delight. Among the trees, shadows dance as a breeze stirs the branches. The growing sunlight glows white on the unkempt grass, still wet with morning dew. In this quiet I can hear my heartbeat. Beauty greets me from from every aspect.

But as much as I love the forest, it's not home.


A crash. Waves stretch their foaming fingers over a weathered rock. Floating easily on the steady ocean wind, seagulls call out noisily, fighting to be heard over the surf. The receding water pulls sand from behind my heels, burying my feet and leaving tiny pools in its wake. In the distance, sailboats move in lazy zig-zags, traveling with no destination in mind. Salt and sea breeze fill my nostrils, and sunlight kisses my shoulders.

But as much as I love the beach, it's not home.


A whisper. Lips brush my ear as words spill out. An invitation draws me to follow your footsteps, my hand clasped gently in yours. In complete trust, I close my eyes and let you lead, movements matched against the rhythm. I feel you close and my heart is blushing, bursting, joy spilling over into my smile. The crowd around us fades away, and all I see is you.

But as much as I love you, you're not home.


A song. Angels sing unending praise. Children gather at their Father's throne, exalting His name with every breath. In perfection we live, eternal, holy. All around His glory shines, and every tear is wiped away. All is as it should be.

Abba, Spirit, Lord Jesus, I love You, and You are my home.