messy pilgrim

Reminded that I am pilgrim today... on a journey to find the sacred.  With each step I am reminded of my need for The Map.  I keep tripping over the obstacles of the small, my daily life, my own two left feet and of course my flesh...

I value the life of the pilgrim because I value the seed... and so onward I march...

This seed that has value for all time... for all generations!  I must fight to be this seed... fight to be a seed carrier.

But how can I possibly sojourn with Him in His tent when I keep wrecking my own?  He is so very HOLY, and I am so very NOT...  In the stumbling and fumbling and my daily detours He redeems, teaches and extracts...

With His expert hands... He scoops, He scrapes, He sorts... out all the things that detract from the beauty of His seed.  He is not a God that settles.

His hands so intention-FULL... so gentle... so patient...so kind...so...

SO covered in my mess.  My journey is a messy one.  Blessed by His truths one minute and failure to live them out the next.  I  must fight to remember that His affection towards me is not based on my performance...  Oh... this feels hard... especially when my own eyes see what is on the inside.  When I keep stumbling in the holes,... holes that I have dug and holes that were strategically placed for me to lose footing.

How are we invited to be pilgrims for the sacred?   Knowing me... why would He choose me to be His seed carrier?  It is all so big, and I am oh so small... yet He sees.... always seeing what I cannot....

The seed...  His beauty... Him making all things new... IN ME... He sees

The pilgrimage complete... the Source and the seed side by side.  The old has new life... new purpose... to feed!

My journey... my seed... my story... all for the next... I LONG to be faithful.  Oh, how I long.  No matter the cost I want my seed to be Glory-full... full of hope... faith... joy... full of the love of the Planting and Pruning One.

My heart is alive and so it fully feels.  Today I feel the weight of the Messy Hands that bring out the new beauty in me.  I am broken.  I am thankful.

Thank you, God, for entering into our mess.  Thank you for Emmanuel.  Thank you for loving me, your messy pilgrim girl.  And, thank you for calling me, "beautiful."