I cannot run from this fact... it's who I am...
Not always on key... perfect rhythm often missing...
A wild princess with a wild song.
I am left without option... He commands my song.
His instrument marked with the light of the cross...
As I learn what it means to be a life long worshipper... I am more aware than ever of the ache that accompanies that calling.
The desire to sit...
To be be still...
To pour out affection...
To hear...
To offer the unblemished...
To see and be seen...
TO STAY...
Telling hurry... hurt and distraction ...
This too... not an option...
Another costly complication from life and death birthed in the garden...
The garden filled with perfection...
Exchanged for a lie leading to wilderness...
I have sung many lies in my lifetime... no doubt I will be caught humming more.
But... the truth I see and the truth I know is...
There is no other place I'd rather be than resting in His presence...
It's there I find peace that makes this tattered whole... It is there I am reminded of Whose I am...
A delight resting in the palm of His hand.
A Royal daughter of the King...
The tune of my life will always be changing...
But... it is the high calling for those with beautiful feet...
To sing songs of good news...
He creates safe places for my wild to grow... that I might be a preserved expression of His beauty.
In the ache I will trust The Cultivator... to meet and tend...
Trusting in His unwrapping of every layer...
Fully exposing the real treasure inside...
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