Here is Love, vast as the ocean....

'I need Thee every hour, no tender voice like Thine can peace afford. I need Thee, oh I need Thee, every hour I need Thee. Oh bless me now my Saviour, I come to Thee.' ('I Need Thee Every Hour').
It amazes me that there are no prerequisites, nothing we must do to ready ourselves to walk into the presence of the Almighty God. Indeed, Your presence never, ever leaves, Lord. We do not have to say certain things, pick up all the pieces, or work forward from where we have fallen. No. You bring us in and forward. We do not have to recover lost ground. You nullify that 'lost ground' and hand us Your ground....gained and fully paid for. 
       Oh how I need Thee. 
'The Father in heaven is so interested in His child and so longs to have her life at every step in His will and His love that He is willing to keep her guidance entirely in His own hand. He knows so well that we are unable to do what is really holy and heavenly except as He works it in us, that He means His very demands to become promises of what He will do, in watching over and leading us all the day. We may count on Him to teach us His way, and show us His path in special difficulties and times of perplexity, as well as in the common course of everyday life...He is the only source of wisdom and goodness and is every ready, longing much to be to us all that we can possibly require....If we only saw our God in His love, if we only believed that He waits to be gracious, that He waits to be our life and to work all in us - how this waiting on God would become our highest joy, the natural and spontaneous response of our hearts to His great love and glory! My soul, wait thou only upon God!' (Andrew Murray, 'Waiting on God'). 


I love old dead guys....especially when their writings correspond with old living guys, colliding together in my life in a single day. It is amazing. I have been pondering on the story of the prodigal son (or, rather, God seems to keep bringing it up in my life) ever since I read Tozer's chapter on the mercy of God. Philip Clarke, author of 'A Heart of Compassion' and founder of CAREconfidential (a support network for pregnancy crisis centres in the UK), retold the story. He concluded with this....
'This parable, in just a few short verses, encapsulates the message of the whole gospel of Jesus Christ. We sin, doing things to hurt God and other people. We are selfish, pleasing ourselves before others. If we are humble enough to recognise that we have made a mess of our lives, we sometimes think we can make things better and earn our salvation by doing something for God. And yet as we draw close to God, and come back to him in repentance, we find a father who has humiliated himself further, through the death of his son on the cross and, in rejecting our worthless offerings, bestows salvation upon us freely and without reserve. This salvation is a salvation of joy, a banqueting feast, an eternal embrace with the father. Heaven exploads with celebration when one person repents and turns back to God.' Clarke then goes on to quote Brennan Manning, 'If God had a face, what kind of face would he make at you right now? Would his face say "When are you going to pull yourself together? I am fed up with you and your hang ups. My patience is exhausted, we are going to have to do a little reckoning"? If God said only one word, would the word be Repent? Or would he say "Thank you. Do you know what a joy it is to live in your heart? Do you know that I have looked upon you and loved you for all eternity"? What would God say? What is the feedback you get from your creator?' 

It is in this vast and impenetrable fortress of love that we reside, in this boundless and immeasurable love that we can rest. In the spirit of trying to be vulnerable in this wide open cyberland, I thought I'd put up something I wrote several mornings ago (inspired by a few lines of Tozer's chapter).....

The Return
Slowly I walked up the dark street, along the dusty, humble path. I could see the warm lights from the House ahead. A crowd, as usual, had gathered outside; a crowd of half-curious, half-distainful people. How often had I aloofly been one of that crowd, until my great pride drove me away even when I knew I would have wanted to stay?
As I approached the front gate, this pride again rose up as a lump in my throat. What was I thinking? I again self-doubted my ability to actually go through with this decision. It had made so much sense a week ago when I had begun my journey back. But as I had passed through the familiar fields and towns of my childhood, I was no longer as sure of myself. Standing amongst the crowd at the front gate, the unsurity nearly smothered any last vestige of desire I might have to uproot the pride. How could I return to a Home, to a Father, whom I had stormed out on so long ago? I still remember the shouting. The slamming of doors, blinding shoving things into a small bag as I ran out. But I remember the hurtful words the most. Oh those words. the magnitude of their erroneous and spiteful nature weighed heavy on me. I had wanted Him dead, dead for all the things that I did not understand. For all the 'why's' left unanswered, all the hurts left unaccounted. I knew now how utterly wrong I had been. Yet I stood there, listening to the heckling beside me. It would be easier not to approach the door, easier to exclude myself from this party as I had done so many times before. The warm, friendly, and joyful voices inside haunted me, drawing my heart in an inexpressible way; flooding me with memories.
I remembered the innumerable intricacies of that House. The beautiful, home-like rooms full of handmade craftsmanship. My Father had been a carpenter at one point....He liked to make things with His hands. I remembered the dinners, friendly gatherings, and glad hearts that had so oftened gathered around us in that House. Oh how happy a childhood and youth I had had. When had that seed of resentment, that rift, begun to grow? Self-condemnation overpowered me. How could I have let that happen? I had been given such an incredible gift of a Home, of a Father. I had squandered it, thrown the life back in His face, turned my back, and left. More than that, I had hated Him. 
The life I had lived in exchange was no life at all...and now I was returned. Empty-handed. Empty-hearted. I had absolutely nothing to give but a pleading voice, a voice peading for mercy, Would my Father forgive me?....I had nothing else. No other place to go and nothing else to do. I knew that only here would my heart be satisfied again, would I be at peace. I had to try at least. That was my plan, to work for His favour. 
Doubts gnawing at me, shaking with every movement, I lifted the latch on the gate and took a faltering step forward. Halfway to the door, I saw it spontaneously open and the warm, golden light flooded the darkness. And there He was. My Father. I could not see His face for the darkness....so I tentatively stepped up to the door frame and turned my face upward. He stepped down and the biggest smile erupted over His face, 'Oh my darling, precious daughter!!' He exclaimed in a booming voice, announcing to the world my return. I was surrounded by His strong arms. I tried to whisper out my explanations, apologies, sorrow....He would not hear them, silencing them in one breath saying, 'COME IN'. I could feel the eyes on my back from the crowd, this interchange having silenced them for once. But all of the sudden I didn't care. All of the sudden none of this mattered, and I had a feeling that it would never matter agian. 'Let's get these wet things off of you, you must be freezing, and there's food and dancing to be had...oh, but if you're tired never fear, your old room is ready for you....' He continued in a stream of happiness.
As I stepped through the threshold, His arm around my shoulder propelling me forward, the music, joy, and love overwhelmed me. A multitude of smiling faces welcomed me as He shut the door on the darkness outside. 'Father', I began. He turned His face down towards me, now pensive and thoughtful, '....I don't know what to say or how to say it,' I brokenly started, 'but.....I'm sorry. I know I don't deserve any of this. I never expected it....I'm.....I'm sorry. For all of it. For me. For the words. For the silence....I'll do anything, anything at all to make it up to you.' I had been looking at my feet as I said this, the weight of His arm heavy on my shoulder. As I finished, He turned me towards Him and lifted up my chin.
'Daughter....I know. But there's no need, no need to work at fixing anything up. It's all forgiven. You are my daugther. Nothing, nothing, will ever change that. I love you, I always have. And oh my dear, how much have I missed you!' He broke out into His biggest smile with those words. And as He did so, the inklings of joy at the realisation of what He had said began to grow in my heart. The realisation that no eternity of service or bondage awaited me....but an eternity of joy was rolling out in front of me like the dawn. I smiled, weakly, but I smiled. 
Tears streamed down my face.
I was Home.



How great is HIS faithfulness, my friends?
                          ....as great and big as He is.

Antidote.

    It has been two weeks of antidotes. Back and forth. Illness and cure. Depression and peace. Sorrow and joy. Mockery and worship. As I struggle to dispell this cloud that has settled over me for the past four or so days, I thought that maybe writing it out would help since I can't seem to discover why it's here. So I begin in a rather selfish vein, I'm afraid. I do so hope you'll forgive me. 
    I think there must be this residue that is clinging onto me. And I am afraid that I choose to listen to it rather than the Voice of truth ever knocking on my heart (....or the mice currently squeaking in between the walls of my room). Why is that? I wasn't particularly going anywhere with that thought....
    ....Or maybe I was. I don't know about you, but I can get so bogged down in the longings and desires of this life. And maybe they're not bad longings. Maybe they're noble ones, ones we were created for. But they're still substitutes. And that Voice is ever calling....
    Oh my brothers and sisters....The grace and mercy of Almighty God is overwhelmingly good. I shall be utterly confounded throughout eternity by it, because IT has existed from before time began and shall exist evermore. Tozer said, 'If we could remember that the divine mercy is not a temporary mood but an attribute of God's eternal being, we would no longer fear that it will someday cease to be....Nothing that has occurred or will occur in heaven or earth or hell can change the tender mercies of our God. for ever His mercy stands, a boundless, overwhelming immensity of divine pity and compassion. As judgment is God's justice confronting moral inequity, so mercy is the goodness of God confronting human suffering and guilt.....' He goes on to say about grace that it is, 'His goodness directed toward human debt and demerit....Grace is the good pleasure of God that inclines Him to bestow benefits upon the undeserving....Its use to us sinful men is to save us and make us sit together in heavenly places to demonstrate to the ages the exceeding riches of God's kindness to us in Christ Jesus.'  
    The grace of Jesus Christ is the cure - the antidote - of the world. And it is only through Your wounded hands, my Lord, that we might be made whole and healed. 
    'We must keep in mind also that the grace of God is infinite and eternal. As it had no beginning, so it can have no end, and being an attribute of God, it is as boundless as infinitude.....We can never know the enormity of our sin, neither is it necessary that we should. What we can know is that 'where sin abounds, grace did much more abound.' To abound in sin: that is the worst and the most we could or can do. The word abound defines the limit of our finite abilities; and although we feel our iniquities rise over us like a mountain, the mountain nevertheless, has definable boundaries....But who shall define the limitless grace of God? Its 'much more' plunges our thoughts into infinitude and confounds them there. All thanks be to God for grace abounding.' (Tozer)
    Oh wanderer return. Return to Him and His astoundingly large heart of love. Let His grace lift that heavy weight of shame from your shoulders. It can be almost an hourly thing, I know....and it takes trust. But He is so gentle with our hearts. He is on our side.

     So I have returned to what seems like a theme here....A theme that won't go away no matter how much shame I pile on, trying to bury myself away. No matter how depressed I get, how foggy my mind becomes, how despairing of this world, or how lost I feel, this theme remains. This theme of Christ's everlasting grace....waiting on God. Be still my soul. And sing. For You have taken it all away. My punishment and shame, sin and disgrace, hurt and pain. BE GLAD, and REJOICE. For I have been delivered from my enemies. The King, the Lord is WITH me, and never ever again will I fear harm. My hands will no longer be limp, my eyes downcast, for You, my Lord God are with me....and You are MIGHTY to SAVE. You take an unfathomable delight in me. You quiet me with Your love. You rejoice over me with singing' (paraphrase of Zeph. 3). 

      We have a LIVING HOPE.



Sorry about this post not being quite that put together. I'm not really sure if I was trying to say anything in particular or if I said all I was originally going to say. It just kinda came out....and whatever left, in its place is a peace.


Thanks for listening, little corner of the world. Farewell....'with eyes wide open to the mercies of God' (Romans 12).

A bend in the road....

    Do you ever do something that you then chide yourself for hours upon hours afterwards? I tend to do this maybe about 5,396 times daily (give or take a few). On Friday I was out and had to get some cash. So I popped over to one on North Bridge and entered my pin. Fairly standard procedure. When I was in the second hand book shop (getting the fifth Harry Potter book - the reason for getting the cash out, I confess) I went to get the money out of my purse. It wasn't there. Do you know that sense of immediate panic that settles? Yeah. Majorly. So then I checked to make sure I still had my debit card. Oh phew. That was still there. I thankfully had a bit of extra cash (intended for other purposes, but ah well), bought the book, and left the shop to get back on the bus. For the rest of the afternoon I kept telling myself how intolerably stupid I was. I mean, who takes out money, retrieves their card, and then leaves the said money in the cash machine?? Stupid stupid stupid stupid. The only thought that slightly comforted me was this: maybe I was able to give a ten pound note to someone who needed it more than I did. And even if it was picked up by some fresher who spent it getting wasted last night....maybe they were blessed somehow. 

    Then Saturday morning woke up. And what a terribly depressing morning it was too....I got three pieces of mail. Two were rejections from applications. Thankfully the third was from a dear friend across the Atlantic on a lovely Island in the north. No matter how many of these 'thank you for your application but you've been unsuccessful' letters I get....it doesn't really get any easier to swallow. 

    So I've caved, I'm going back to work part-time at Starbucks for the time being. At least that's what it feels like I'm doing. I think it's cause I feel like I'm letting myself down. Maybe perfectionist, legalist Grace (yes, I'm aware of the contradiction imbeded in that phrase) needs to learn something about attaching her self-worth to what she does as opposed to who she is in Christ. I've always had such a sense of urgency to DO something, to BE something. Like my time is limited, numbering my days and all that. How is one meant to reconcile that to surrender? My mum had an amazing piece of wisdom for me, 'Sometimes the trial is holding out for your ideal (a job, in this case....a purpose....a validation), and sometimes the trial is holding onto it in the midst of doing something else'.....So back I go to making coffee for a while. I shall choose not to demean myself. Anything He calls us to is a privilage. Oh God give me the strength to keep that attitude.

    These episodes are relatively unconnected....but both part of my life this past week. And both have made me think of something....How rarely do things happen the way that we expect. I mean, I really should know this by now. It's funny how little I do know. But I do know this....I shall choose to believe that this bend holds the best. For this bend is where I have been led. Thus in this bend I shall find the Heart of My Purpose. And He is Faithful....and full of grace for my doubting and bewildered heart. 

     My walks have reminded me a bit from the end of  'Anne of Green Gables' (bear with my slightly romantic tendancies, please). :)
'I shall give life here my best, and I believe it will give its best to me in return. When I left Queen's my future seemed to stretch out before me like a straight road. I thought I could see along it for many a milestone. Now there is a bend in it. I don't know what lies around the bend, but I am going to believe the best does. It has a fascination of its own, that bend, Marilla. I wonder how the road beyond it goes - what checkered light and shadows, what new landscapes, what new beauties, what curves and hills and valleys further on'....'The beauty of it all thrilled Anne's heart, and she greatfully opened the gates of her soul it it. "Dear old world", she murmured, "You are very lovely, and I am glad to be alive in you"....Anne's horizons had closed in since that night she had sat there after coming home from Queen's; but if the path before her feet was to be narrow she knew that flowers of quiet happiness would bloom along it. The joys of sincere work and worthy aspirations and congenial friendship were to be hers; nothing could rob her of her birthright of fancy or her ideal world of dreams. And there was always the bend in the road! "God's in His heaven, all's right with the world!" whispered Anne softly.' 
Amen.
'The road goes ever on and on, down from the door where it began....'


Oh, and I bought a pumpkin. Wooo hooo. Roll on bread, pies, and soup!
Currently listening to Imogen Heap's 'Wait it Out' and Mutemath's 'Goodbye'. My melancholic tendancies have won out. 

Of freshly cut grass and burning leaves.

Inverleith Park is my new favourite place in the city. It's like it was hidden from me until tonight. Until this beautiful, gorgeous evening. I walked out of the house with no specific destination in mind at about quarter past six, listening to such songs as this.

'To glory and give oneself to God again'....what greater thing is there in this life? My trials and troubles vanish at the sight of You. It's like, without even knowing You are there or are doing it it, it's like You're breathing life into me again.

As I sat on a bench and overlooked the fields and the city, a whole host of memories flooded me. The field, with kids playing football and people running about, with the most incredible view of the city....the smell. The smell reminded me of going to football practice in the fall with my dad, coaching us in the reminants of his suit, his shirt sleaves rolled up; and Elijah, Becca, Jenn, and I tagging along. Of being hot on a cool night when all the lights of the field come on. It makes me want to put on my shin guards, socks, and cleats. It's overpowering sometimes, when a memory hits you this hard. Especially when I keep memories so locked up tight, sequestered to two different sides of the ocean. Rarely do the two worlds intersect.

The smell of autumn is definitely here. The clouds were tinged with that golden, pinky-blue that so often overtakes them....and the music reworked things, weaving things in to my heart that had been missing and fraying for the past wee while. It's like a deep breath. Like turning one's face upwards to see the ever so faintly colouring leaves rustle against the pale blue of the evening sky. It's like the smell of freshly cut grass mingled with burning leaves. It's grace. 

I've been finishing off books that I've been meaning to finish off for a while, tying off loose ends, a multitude of thoughts and ideas rushing through my head. But in that moment on the bench, oddly, there were no particular thoughts that came. Slightly frustrating, slightly freeing. It was when I stopped trying to think of what I should be thinking about, that it came. Your voice, Jesus. 'I did this for you, my love....'

I get frustrated with myself that I don't seem to love Him as I should. I never seem to 'feel' correctly. But He showed me something on that bench. He showed me that I do love Him....because He has chosen to speak to me, come for me. I love You, Lord, with that quiet kind of love that comes from years of knowing You. Sure, You are my Great Love....but for the most part, I love You with the 'for better or for worse' kind of love. The quiet kind that doesn't make too much of a fuss. And though I know I've got years ahead of me to learn and grow, I can find comfort in the fact that He has awoken my heart to love. And I am not dead, even if I can convince myself out of self-pity that I am, at times. He has placed this love in me, this desire for Him to be first, not second best....even when (especially when) I forget it.


And just to encourage you....He loves you. Oh how much He loves you. His grace is like your favourite smell, a reminder of home. A reminder of the beauty that calls from beyond the lights. The beauty of His grace. Just be still. And know. That HE is God.

Oh, and one other thing and then I'll shut up. I have finally caved in and admited to myself after many, many years of self denial that I have an overactive imagination. I have argued with God many times in my life, convinced He got the date of my birth wrong, 'Are you sure, God, that you meant for me to be born in this decade (or even this century)?'.....Ah well. My imagination shall have to content me.

I leave you with another's, much more eloquent, purposeful and concise words....

'I walked out onto the hill just now. It is exalting, delicious, to stand embraced by the shadows of a friendly tree with the wind tugging at your coattails and the heavens hailing your heart, to gaze and glory and give oneself to God - what more could a man ask? Oh the fulness, pleasure, shear excitment of knowing God on earth! I care not if I never raise my voice again for Him, if only I may love Him, please Him. Mayhap in mercy He shall give me a host of children that I may lead them through the vast starfields to explore His delicacies whose finger ends set them to burning. But if not, if only I may see Him, touch His garments, and smile into His eyes - ah then, not stars nor children shall matter, only Himself. O Jesus, Master and Centre and End of all, how long before that Glory is Thine which has so long awaited Thee? Now there is no thought of Thee among men; then there shall be thought for nothing else. Now other men are praised; then, none shall care for any other's merits. Hasten, hasten Glory of Heaven, take Thy crown, subdue Thy kingdom, enthrall Thy creatures.' (Jim Elliot).

God is gain. God is gain. God is gain. (John Piper).

'Let the morning bring me word of your unfailing love,

for I have put my trust in You.

Show me the way that I should go,

for to You I lift up my soul.'

(Psalm 143:8).

The Silence and Uncertainty of a Heart's Sifting.

Loneliness. Where did it come from? I feel like it has jumped out from some shrub on Ferry Road and latched itself onto me, invading the flat and permeating my being. The silence it brings with it rings and echoes. I never really expected things to happen this way. I never expected His silence now. 'Any time but now, Lord,' I cry out, 'Now when I need your guidance so very deeply.'

Amy Carmichel once wrote, 'Bare heights of loneliness....a wilderness whose burning winds sweep over glowing sands, what are they to Him? Even there He can refresh us, even there He can renew us.'

I have been reading Passion and Purity again (by Elizabeth Elliot). I had read it when I was seventeen, but thought I'd pick it up again. See if my views on it had changed. :) Was this book written for me? Seriously. I thought that the first time and I am thinking it now. When all in my life - my purpose, my worth, my abilities - all seem uncertain and unclear....to have someone else recount their own struggles and doubts has given my soul something to cling to. Something Better. Here are some of the things she has to say....

'I do know that waiting on God requires the willingness to bear uncertainty, to carry within oneself the unanswered question, lifting our heart to God about it whenever it intrudes upon one's thoughts. It is easy to talk oneself into a decision that has no permanence - easier sometimes than to wait patiently.' 'Silence begins to drag on my soul. It is a kind of waiting which hears no voice, no footstep, sees no sign. I feel that I could wait ten years if it were not this waiting, this silence.'

'Waiting silently is the hardest thing of all.' 'When you are lonely, too much stillness is exactly the thing that seems to be laying waste your soul. Use that stillness to quiet your heart before God. Get to know Him. If He is God, He is still in charge.'

When it seems like all others have places to go and things to do, my prayer has been, 'Help me, my Lord, to shoulder this loneliness. To bear up under your sifting and burning that I might develop perseverence, character, and my hope might be proved a solid thing. For my Hope is in You. Christ in me, the Hope of Glory.' I feel like this is such an unworthy thing to lay at His feet. Such a small trial in comparison. Why has it been this hard for me? But He does not reject our sacrifices. He does not scorn them. No matter how pitiful, no matter how small. When I ask 'Why?' (which I have done countless times these past couple of weeks), He gently reminds me that He wants all of me. Whole and Holy. And He does not ask needlessly of me. He will not despise the perfume on His feet. It says in Proverbs that 'Each heart knows its own bitterness. No one else can share its joy' (4:10). But we have a Great High Priest who is not distant and who shares in all our bitterness and all our joy. Not only that, He takes our bitterness and gives us his joy in return.

There is something equally powerful that surfaces in the loneliness and silence, though. And that is longing. It is now this longing, deep within me and bursting to come out, that threatens to take over. This longing for there to finally be an answer, finally be a someone, finally be a definition for my life. It is in the painful beauty of longing that our hearts reach out for the eternal. In this we are not alone. He, Love, has entered into our world. Our hearts. And He has understood. Because of this, we can call out to Him, 'Abba, Father.'

She continues, 'My heart was saying "Lord, take away this longing, or give me that for which I long." The Lord was answering, "I must teach you to long for something better."'
It is this Truth that wreaks havoc on my soul. This Truth that He is better. He is better. He is better. Let this sink in, Lord....Day by day. I am not alone. And the loneliness, though now a weight, will be far outweighed by glory. That is His promise. And He who promises is Faithful.

As Jim Elliot said, 'Let not our longing slay the appetite of our living.' 'Wherever you are, be all there. Live to the hilt every situation you believe to be the will of God.'

It is this challange of living the eternal in the present that I am now confronted with. I have to look past the doubt that there is nothing for me to sink my hands into, look past it to the better that He is....

Let's join in this dance of His grace, shall we?


'I remember my affliction and my wandering,
the bitterness and the gall.
I well remember them,
and my soul is downcast within me.
Yet this I call to mind
and therefore I have hope:
Because of the Lord's great love
we are not consumed,
for His compassions never fail.
They are new every morning;
great is Your faithfulness.
I say to myself, 'The Lord is my portion;
therefore I will wait for Him.'
The Lord is good to those whose
hope is in Him,
to the one who seeks Him;
It is good to wait quietly for the salvation of the Lord...

....Let her sit alone in silence,
for the Lord has laid it on her....'
(Lamantations 3)

'crazy, mad, big Love.'

To glimpse the BIGNESS of Love Himself is the only way we can understand the BIGNESS of the Love that is offered to us, freely. And Love Himself is Big.

'O Lord my God, you are very great;
you are clothed with slendour and majesty.
He wraps Himself in light as with a garment;
He stretches out the heavens like a tend
and lays the beams of His upper chambers
on their waters.
He makes the clouds His chariot
and rides on the wings of the wind.
He makes winds His messangers,
flames of fire his servants.'
(Psalm 104)

You have taken me through the stars, Lord, at a speed I could not imagine yet remained right by my side. Inside and outside time and space all at once. You have taken me through the heavens. Galaxies whirl and rush past Your eyes. Light Incarnate, Your wind has caressed my soul and Your voice has captured my heart.

'I love you.'
Why?

'Because you are my daughter.
Does a Father need a reason
to love His daughter?

I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you.
I will never stop saying that. I have plans for you that will
bless and protect, full of hope and life and love and joy. You have
no reason to fear for I AM.


I AM your Father. I AM your Joy.
I AM your Truth. I AM your Ridiculous Asker.
I AM your Means and End.
I AM your Fulfillment. I AM your Tears.
I AM your Joy. I AM your Peace.
I AM your Grace. I AM your Righteousness.
I AM your Future. I AM your Purpose.
I AM your Salvation. I AM your Light.
I AM your Newness. I AM your Restoration.
I AM your Plan. I AM your Reward.
I AM your Worth. I AM your Freedom.

I AM your crazy, mad, big, Love.
I AM your God.'


Your MERCIES are new every morning. And your GRACE is overwhelming. Your FAITHFULNESS is strong and neverending. Your LOVE astounds me all the time. That the God in whose eyes lie all the galaxies calls me His beloved and precious child is the most beautiful, fulfilling, wonderful, captivating, and restful mystery of all time and space.

The unforced rhythms of grace
are falling slowly
into the heart of Beauty Itself,
and in the wake of which
earth's dark shadows flee.

If Only.

I was running. Running down a non-descript street. The pain was searing in my chest with each breath that I gasped. If only. If only, if only, if only, if only, I stated over and over to myself as I ran until I could run no more, wishing that I had some tangible reason to be hurting this much. Willing there to be some great tragedy in my life to legitimise all of this pain.

But there was nothing. Nothing but this emptiness, this lifelessness that consumed me. The utter desolation of my soul pierced the light around me with great shafts of darkness. They began, slowly at first, and then with growing force to devour the day about me until I was lost in the night. In some ways the darkness was more comforting for I was no longer the lifeless, miserable, self-loathing person whose parasite-like being seemed to burn up any ounce of others' happiness in her wake. I was at home in this numb and sightless place where I could linger in my own stinging shame.

And do you know what the worst part about all of this was? I'll tell you. The worst part was that there was nothing, no reason, why I should be this way. No great dysfunction, no great tragedy, no great remorse should be plaguing me. And yet it was. Why was this pain here, then? Why this regret? Why did this shame and darkness fill my very being? I felt deaf to the voices around me, numb to what I touched. Any kind of interaction, a nod or a 'hello', took all my strength and focus. I felt drained simply by brushing my teeth in the morning.

And that is why I had started running. I didn't care where, as long as it took me away from the familiar rooms and corridors. That is why I was standing on this corner looking absently across the street, my sight blinded and my limbs paralysed by the growing darkness. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Self-loathing filled me to the brim. Why can't you manage to get a grip on yourself and stop being so internally focused for just one minute of the day??, I screamed at myself. The expression on my face remained emotionless as the nothingness and pointlessness of existence suddenly swept over me. I laughed dryly in response. Perhaps I had finally come to the end. And this was all there was. Nothing more. Nothing less. Just nothing. Winter had crept into my soul and seemed to be there to stay.






But....


Who was that man staring at me from across the street? His eyes seemed to be piercing through my very being even from that distance. I could not look away. It was not that he was extremely beautiful, but his eyes were the most exquisite things I had ever beheld. I realised I was trembling all over....He was walking towards me....He was standing in front of me.

'Hello', He said. His voice unleashed the torrent inside and around me. I doubled over and my arms wrapped around my stomach, clutching at the void that was threatening to consume me. Oh. Oh this pain. The emptiness, the nothingness, that for the last age I had been trying to forget and keep unnamed and unrecognised in the quiet corner of my heart now burst forth and began to drown me. My silent screams filled the air.

Just as I was sinking into the agony of unconscious grief, something warm and strong grasped my arm, invading my winter. I slowly regained consciousness and realised I was sitting in the middle of a field. He was across from me. And He was smilling. Who was this man?

'It was good I found you when I did. You were remarkably hard to find, you know.'
Was that a smile in His eyes? My incredulousness must have been obvious to Him as His face fell backwards and He laughed out loud. The sound of His laughter penetrated me. I was powerless...and yet somehow I had never felt this full in my life before. The sun was blinding me, and yet I could see so clearly now. the wind's freshness was warming my frozen body and cooling my heated eyes.

The beauty of it, in comparison to the utter desolation of my own self, shook me to the core of my being.

He stopped laughing. His eyes retained all of their warmth, though, as He said, slowly taking His time, 'It's safe to hope again. It will not come crashing down.' His face was full of an unknown pain now, and then reassurance, as He continued, 'You will heal, you know. I have found you. Your quiet masks and defenceless walls are no good against me. You may be sure that I will never let you go.

If only. If only I was good enough to deserve this. I want my eyes to be deep and warm. I want to be loving, patient, gentle, and kind. But I feel the opposite. Why? If only I didn't have to shrink from this light. If only this could be true. My eyes and heart burned with the desire to believe so.

He sat there with the Treasure of the Worlds in His hands, willing me to lay hold of it. He wants to give this to me, when I can give Him nothing - the nothingness - in return. Not only will He give me thse riches, but He offers to me Himself. A Person who knows me, a Person to whom I need not explain myself. And He has promised, promised not to leave me. Forever.

'I have given you a morning. And it's new....Will you ever know how much I love you?'
The soft notes of the piano begin to play again as the rising sun is in my face.


It's called grace. And it leaves me thunderstruck as I stretch out my hand.




The song of the morning.

'Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for He who promised is faithful.'
(Hebrews 10:23)

(1 Peter 1:3-9)

'My heart is in anguish within me;
the terrors of death assail me.
Fear and trembling have beset me;
horror has overwhelmed me.
I said, 'Oh, that I had the wings of a dove!
I would fly away and be at rest -
I would flee fare away and stay in the desert;
I would hurry to my place of shelter,
Far from the tempest and the storm.'

....But I call to you God,
and the Lord saves me.
Evening, morning, and noon
I cry out in distress
And He hears my voice
He ransoms me unharmed
From the battle waged against me,
Even though many oppose me....

....Cast your cares on the Lord
and He will sustain you;
He will never let the righteous fall.'

(Psalm 55)