Recently I have been falling in love with writing poems, especially poems about and to the Lord. I thought I’d share some of my jumbled thoughts that I’ve written on nearby napkins, loose pages and scribbles in my journal. 

In all honesty, right now the biggest ministry I’m doing is in my heart. I am in a season where I have tunnel vision to the Father and it is easy to fall in love with every inch of life when you are falling in love with Him. So here are a few jars of my heart that I have been pouring out. 

I asked the Father what  I should write about today...

I asked the Father today...

The blankness of my pages were not the absence of substance

But my absence of comprehension

I asked the Father today...

What words should fill these eager pages

He showed me the ocean

The repetition of its’ rhythms shouting its’ loyalty to the shore

Yet doesn’t subtract from the originality of each crash 

Surging in with all its’ delicate might

I asked the Father today...

He showed me the shadows of His beloved dancing on the wall

With each arm raised to the Heavens 

Comes around boulder removed from our shoulders

I cannot decide 

Whether I should fall on my face or dance like a child 

Both are but a breath

I asked the Father today...

And He showed me a glimpse of His depths

He showed me the array of creation

Shrieking in all His glory

All of it for our eyes to feast on and recognize as love

He showed me the birds eyeing 

The fish jumping to get a glimpse

“Has the Bride seen her Bridegroom yet?”

The hands that handcrafted this freewill 

Are anxiously awaiting our return 

So children come! Come back home

The Father has been peering into your heart and wants to celebrate your surrender 

I asked the Father today..

And came to the conclusion of tears

These pages are easily filled with praise

My glass jar

Your presence dwells in these empty walls

You are too big for my human jar of comprehension 

I try to squish, squeeze and stuff you

Just so I can feel like I can grasp it

Wrap my little fingers all the way around it 

Kept it in my back pocket

So I can finally announce my victory

To claim I understand

That I have conquered the intangible 

Yet you look at me 

Without disappointment, you say

“Child, you are like an ant trying to summit a mountain range

You reach the top of a pebble and have the audacity to shout

‘Look Father! Have I summited?’

“Small child, your striving footsteps are meaningless

I never asked you to summit

I asked you to dance”

I cannot understand it

I cannot conquer it

I cannot summit it 

I can only dance in the incomprehensible

Learning and discovering and then relearning and rediscovering

More of Your love and power

Thank you that you don’t fit into my jar

Freedom

Your promises are abundance 

And that abundance begins with freedom

Freedom that is defined as our empty hands offering a simple surrender

You dwell in my darkest places

Places I am too afraid to peak into

The crevasses collecting dust from my negligence of truth 

My walk was heavy

And exhaustion was easy

Until I looked behind me

I was carrying a pack of boulders

I couldn’t remove them

they were too painful to look at

But He didn’t promise that Freedom wasn’t painful 

So I sob as I take out each boulder

My vision gets blurry and my hands become bloody

As I try and scrub each rock clean 

with my own hands

Again the Father stops me

He takes my bloody hands and drowns it in His Blood

Without disappointment, He wipes every tear and shows me:

Just as I cannot decide the duration of each tree’s life 

Or just as I cannot determine the width of each raindrop on my skin

Nor measure the depths of universe 

My hands cannot cleanse these boulders

He whispered:

“Leave the boulders at my feet

You cannot carry them 

You cannot clean them

So rest child, take my hand and come this way

For my burden is light and my yoke is easy”

What a divine dichotomy! 

My hands can neither destroy nor justify 

My hands cannot earn nor drive away

For my freedom is purchased through the Blood

And not through my toil 

Thanks for reading my plethora of thoughts and words. Every view and comment doesn't go unnoticed and unappreciated. Thank you so much for sharing a part of my heart with me. Your support is a treasure to me. I love you.