Dry, crusty ground
No life to be found
She kneels down undone
Surrendered, broken, her head to the dust
Tears break through
And wet the desolate earth
A tiny sign of life
Her heart speaks:
I am broken
A daughter yes, but I see what I am
Without Him
My pulse lacks life
Unless He’s near.
I cannot fear
I cannot hide
I must embrace exposure
And let your life grow inside
A simple breath
She knows He’s near
All around is lifeless
But He whispers in her ear
This whisper produces hope
And where once a tear had soaked
A stem begins to appear
A sign of life!
She can hardly believe
That Father could grow
Something out of her zero point
Slowly she rises
Aching, but looking towards
Her source of life.
He shines down light
And her eyes come alive
She lifts one arm
Now the other
Her feet shift and begin to move
Now she’s spinning
Laughter overtaking her
And the stem becomes a flower
As she dances around
It grows higher
And shoots colors
She’s never known
Into the atmosphere
Until everywhere
There is life and growth
She dances now in freedom
Her smile aglow
Basking in the beauty
That only He could have made
Out of the broken shell that she was.
“You make beautiful things, you make beautiful things out of the dust. Oh, you make beautiful things, you make beautiful things out of us…” by Gungor
Thursday, April 14, 2011
Sunday, April 3, 2011
Shouts of Deliverance
“You are a hiding place for me; you preserve me from trouble; you surround me with shouts of deliverance.
Selah.”
-Psalm 32:7
A whisper erupted deep from her soul. “You are my hiding place…”
Her throat burning, the tears finally escaped their fragile prison. The fear weighing down her heart like physical pressure was too much to bear. She had nowhere left to go, and they were coming. She could hear her pursuers, but she was incapable of getting away. She herself was in a prison, a fortified one built strong over years and years of decision and unfortunate generational circumstances. Now, though she tried to run from her enemies, she had come to a wall—the wall she knew she would reach but wanted to deny it. But now, facing it, she couldn’t. Looking up, she could see no end—it seemed to reach to the heavens and beyond.
She knew one thing in her life. There was One who was faithful, always. It was to Him she now whispered. She should have turned to him earlier, before things got out of hand, but her ego and self-dependence kept her from admitting her weakness. One thing about this Man was that one must receive His help, being willing to admit dependence even in times of strength. She now knew she was never truly strong on her own. She gave in to temptations every time until her “friends” revealed themselves as her enemies, right when it was too late to escape. She had built this world for herself. Born into it in one sense, but cultivating it her whole life until it consumed. She didn’t “reverse the curse” when she had the chance.
Her heart beat wildly as a storm began to stir the atmosphere. The trees nearby trembled in anticipation of the violent gusts, and the debris from the ground whirled around her like a mini tornado. Her pursuers were yelling, not too far off now, though she couldn’t make out what they were saying. A storm. Would this kill her, or would her enemies? Her fear only doubled.
“You are my hiding place.” A brief calm lit up her heart, and she became aware of her breathing, which gave her hope. It was born, as if shooting out from seed, within her, while all around chaos, fear, and uncertainty reigned in their kingdom. She opened her eyes, and the storm picked up, whipping her hair into her eyes. She ran into the haven of the trees on her right, seeking to escape the wrath of the wind, hoping to hide from the ruthlessness of her enemies.
Then, piercing through her heightened panic, she saw a rock located on a small hill, not too far away into this forest. Focusing her eyes, she could see there was an opening. It was some sort of cave. A proper hideout? Once again, hope fluttered in her heart at the notion.
“You are my hiding place!” she said it to affirm this hope that unrelentingly kept poking its head out of the grave that was her life. She headed for the cave, determination rising up, ignoring the shouts and insults of her pursuers. For they were voices she could do without, always taunting, trying to drown out His voice with accusation after accusation.
No—she would not look back in fear. She would move toward her provided safety until she reached it.
The wind was against her. It knocked her to the ground several times, growing stronger every minute. But the cave was getting bigger in her sight, and she felt His hand guiding her there.
She finally arrived at the entrance to the cave, almost out of breath, but using the remaining air she had in her lungs to let out short bursts of laughter. The opening to the cave was wide enough for her to easily crawl into, but low enough to hide her from anyone’s sight and protect her from the harsh winds. She ducked inside. It was pitch dark, but there was light in her soul. She knew this was provision from the faithful One.
“You are my hiding place.” She waited in stillness for the storm to pass and for her enemies to finally give up their search. But she could now make out their screams more clearly. They were tempting her, taunting her, trying to evoke a response from her. But she said not a word, despite the pull. Here in this hiding place she could think more clearly, without distraction. She knew if she responded to the threats or to the promising alluring “pleasures” her pursuers offered, she would regret it, because she always did. The voices kept coming.
Until beauty pervaded the atmosphere. She caught her breath at the sound. It was a full-throated yell, fierce, furious, full of conviction and passion. It eradicated all the other voices, as if they had all shriveled up and died instantly. The beauty of the yell pierced her soul and awakened her spirit. It was a war call, an anthem of deliverance that seemed to go on for several minutes. She let herself drown in it. Transformation was carried in that voice. And she knew this—this was for her. This was the Man called Love. The faithful One. The voice carried on for however long He saw fit, then stopped, as if on cue.
Sweet silence engulfed her. No more wind, no more voices. Peace. She knew she was changed, standing there in that cave.
Then, to her shock, a hand reached through the opening. She could see it, for the light it cast overcame the darkness of the haven. It was wounded. It was inviting her to step out. When she did, the man to whom the hand belonged embraced her firmly, and they both exchanged tears of joy. Love had gotten His beloved back. Then he spoke with authority, moving her onto a new path she would tread for eternity.
“The storm had to come, child, in order to lead you to the hiding place. Nothing that comes is without reason, and I am always with you. Now, go, listen to my voice, and bring my Kingdom to reign in this world I have placed you in. You have come home!” Joy lit up His eyes.
Father, my home is You. Selah.
Selah.”
-Psalm 32:7
A whisper erupted deep from her soul. “You are my hiding place…”
Her throat burning, the tears finally escaped their fragile prison. The fear weighing down her heart like physical pressure was too much to bear. She had nowhere left to go, and they were coming. She could hear her pursuers, but she was incapable of getting away. She herself was in a prison, a fortified one built strong over years and years of decision and unfortunate generational circumstances. Now, though she tried to run from her enemies, she had come to a wall—the wall she knew she would reach but wanted to deny it. But now, facing it, she couldn’t. Looking up, she could see no end—it seemed to reach to the heavens and beyond.
She knew one thing in her life. There was One who was faithful, always. It was to Him she now whispered. She should have turned to him earlier, before things got out of hand, but her ego and self-dependence kept her from admitting her weakness. One thing about this Man was that one must receive His help, being willing to admit dependence even in times of strength. She now knew she was never truly strong on her own. She gave in to temptations every time until her “friends” revealed themselves as her enemies, right when it was too late to escape. She had built this world for herself. Born into it in one sense, but cultivating it her whole life until it consumed. She didn’t “reverse the curse” when she had the chance.
Her heart beat wildly as a storm began to stir the atmosphere. The trees nearby trembled in anticipation of the violent gusts, and the debris from the ground whirled around her like a mini tornado. Her pursuers were yelling, not too far off now, though she couldn’t make out what they were saying. A storm. Would this kill her, or would her enemies? Her fear only doubled.
“You are my hiding place.” A brief calm lit up her heart, and she became aware of her breathing, which gave her hope. It was born, as if shooting out from seed, within her, while all around chaos, fear, and uncertainty reigned in their kingdom. She opened her eyes, and the storm picked up, whipping her hair into her eyes. She ran into the haven of the trees on her right, seeking to escape the wrath of the wind, hoping to hide from the ruthlessness of her enemies.
Then, piercing through her heightened panic, she saw a rock located on a small hill, not too far away into this forest. Focusing her eyes, she could see there was an opening. It was some sort of cave. A proper hideout? Once again, hope fluttered in her heart at the notion.
“You are my hiding place!” she said it to affirm this hope that unrelentingly kept poking its head out of the grave that was her life. She headed for the cave, determination rising up, ignoring the shouts and insults of her pursuers. For they were voices she could do without, always taunting, trying to drown out His voice with accusation after accusation.
No—she would not look back in fear. She would move toward her provided safety until she reached it.
The wind was against her. It knocked her to the ground several times, growing stronger every minute. But the cave was getting bigger in her sight, and she felt His hand guiding her there.
She finally arrived at the entrance to the cave, almost out of breath, but using the remaining air she had in her lungs to let out short bursts of laughter. The opening to the cave was wide enough for her to easily crawl into, but low enough to hide her from anyone’s sight and protect her from the harsh winds. She ducked inside. It was pitch dark, but there was light in her soul. She knew this was provision from the faithful One.
“You are my hiding place.” She waited in stillness for the storm to pass and for her enemies to finally give up their search. But she could now make out their screams more clearly. They were tempting her, taunting her, trying to evoke a response from her. But she said not a word, despite the pull. Here in this hiding place she could think more clearly, without distraction. She knew if she responded to the threats or to the promising alluring “pleasures” her pursuers offered, she would regret it, because she always did. The voices kept coming.
Until beauty pervaded the atmosphere. She caught her breath at the sound. It was a full-throated yell, fierce, furious, full of conviction and passion. It eradicated all the other voices, as if they had all shriveled up and died instantly. The beauty of the yell pierced her soul and awakened her spirit. It was a war call, an anthem of deliverance that seemed to go on for several minutes. She let herself drown in it. Transformation was carried in that voice. And she knew this—this was for her. This was the Man called Love. The faithful One. The voice carried on for however long He saw fit, then stopped, as if on cue.
Sweet silence engulfed her. No more wind, no more voices. Peace. She knew she was changed, standing there in that cave.
Then, to her shock, a hand reached through the opening. She could see it, for the light it cast overcame the darkness of the haven. It was wounded. It was inviting her to step out. When she did, the man to whom the hand belonged embraced her firmly, and they both exchanged tears of joy. Love had gotten His beloved back. Then he spoke with authority, moving her onto a new path she would tread for eternity.
“The storm had to come, child, in order to lead you to the hiding place. Nothing that comes is without reason, and I am always with you. Now, go, listen to my voice, and bring my Kingdom to reign in this world I have placed you in. You have come home!” Joy lit up His eyes.
Father, my home is You. Selah.
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