Sep 2014
I am amazed.
As I sit here,
Completely still,
Watching this thing called life pass by me hour by hour.
I watch as the weight of stress and struggle and fear
push us in the shell of so called “protection”.
I am left fearful when the thoughts of the future
not working out in my plans
Overtake the wonderful miraculous thoughts of the little things.
When the mirror speaks harsh words of criticism,
When I look at my reflection and see nothing but scars and dust.
When the tears spill,
No,
Flood over the rim of mine and all the hurting’s sparkling eyes,
When I see the pressure of trying to fit “in”
hold back the beautiful smiles that were carefully sketched in love.
When I feel like its only me against the world,
I tightly close my eyes.
Hoping above hope that nobody will see me.
But then.
I feel a gentle tug.
And I open my eyes.
I am left breathlessly in awe and wonder.
With opened eyes,
I see beauty.
I see this Beauty literally take all of the stress,
The struggle,
The fear out of our hearts and replace it with hope,
and a type of love that no vowel nor consonants placed together can describe.
I am reminded that my future isn't something to fear,
Because it is not my future.
It is not my plans.
I am awestruck by the truth of this.
As I look at this Beauty and try to fathom why it is looking back.
It shows me that the mirror,
that the reflection that so taunts me,
Is broken.
It is broken by the marvelous hand of perfection.
It sets me free of judgement and opinions.
It sees my ugly scars and kisses them,
It sweeps the dust off and says, “There, I have made you in my perfect image.”
It gives me examples of what real beauty is,
of the majesty of finding myself in someone complete.
I am so captivated.
My smile breaks the creases of the frown that holds me back.
My heart and soul leap for joy at the mere thought of being able to share about the One who gave me this unbreakable happiness.
The King of Glory is enough for me.
I will have times when I am pushed down.
When all the scars become too much,
When I foolishly think I can do it alone.
BUT
My Savior,
My Beauty,
My Perfection,
My All in All,
My Comforter,
My Creator,
My Joy,
My Love,
My Everything,
Will always,
and I mean always,
Gently help me up into His forgiving arms
and say very slowly,
To get it through our stubborn heads,
“You. Are. Mine.”
As I sit here,
Completely still,
Watching this thing called life pass by me hour by hour.
I watch as the weight of stress and struggle and fear
push us in the shell of so called “protection”.
I am left fearful when the thoughts of the future
not working out in my plans
Overtake the wonderful miraculous thoughts of the little things.
When the mirror speaks harsh words of criticism,
When I look at my reflection and see nothing but scars and dust.
When the tears spill,
No,
Flood over the rim of mine and all the hurting’s sparkling eyes,
When I see the pressure of trying to fit “in”
hold back the beautiful smiles that were carefully sketched in love.
When I feel like its only me against the world,
I tightly close my eyes.
Hoping above hope that nobody will see me.
But then.
I feel a gentle tug.
And I open my eyes.
I am left breathlessly in awe and wonder.
With opened eyes,
I see beauty.
I see this Beauty literally take all of the stress,
The struggle,
The fear out of our hearts and replace it with hope,
and a type of love that no vowel nor consonants placed together can describe.
I am reminded that my future isn't something to fear,
Because it is not my future.
It is not my plans.
I am awestruck by the truth of this.
As I look at this Beauty and try to fathom why it is looking back.
It shows me that the mirror,
that the reflection that so taunts me,
Is broken.
It is broken by the marvelous hand of perfection.
It sets me free of judgement and opinions.
It sees my ugly scars and kisses them,
It sweeps the dust off and says, “There, I have made you in my perfect image.”
It gives me examples of what real beauty is,
of the majesty of finding myself in someone complete.
I am so captivated.
My smile breaks the creases of the frown that holds me back.
My heart and soul leap for joy at the mere thought of being able to share about the One who gave me this unbreakable happiness.
The King of Glory is enough for me.
I will have times when I am pushed down.
When all the scars become too much,
When I foolishly think I can do it alone.
BUT
My Savior,
My Beauty,
My Perfection,
My All in All,
My Comforter,
My Creator,
My Joy,
My Love,
My Everything,
Will always,
and I mean always,
Gently help me up into His forgiving arms
and say very slowly,
To get it through our stubborn heads,
“You. Are. Mine.”
