Some days you’ll feel like you need to be poured out. Emptied. Sifted through those colanders amidst the broken sea shells. Some days you’ll feel like there’s more to say, like the epitome of a revelation is simply resting on the tip of your tongue, waiting to roll the right direction.
I’ve got a mountain full of words deep in my lungs. I felt it this morning when my feet hit the cold, wooden floor boards, this morning when the world was still black & white. Pre sunset casting in the fierce reds & oranges & light blues, I felt the colors crawling under my skin, itching to speak words that had yet to face me. A thirst, a beckon. Pour out, sweet girl.
So I follow. Every morning, back in routine of the morning car ride silence, speaking to the lover of my soul. He is perfection, every good & pleasing thing in every moment. His love is my portion, the deepest, most complete form of nurturing. Won’t you come in with the rain? Take off your shoes. Stay for a while, love. There’s more.
The Lord your God is with you. He is mighty to save.
He will take great delight in you. He will quiet you with his love,
He will rejoice over you with singing.
Because he says the Lord your God is with you. That’s all you need. Simply, God with you. Christ in us. The hope of glory. He says the Lord your God is with you, & you are hearing the words but you’re not quite grasping the extent of it. The Lord your God is with you, that’s all you need & this is why. This is what that entails.
He is mighty to save. Enough to make her hurtful jabs pain free. Enough to heal your broken heart that might as well been thrown off the highest cliff. Enough to enter into the raging, unruly waters of depression, to enter into this hopeless place, & to speak be still, & that is e n o u g h & p l e n t y. He delights in you, the not-so-secret admirer of your silly quirks & daunting birthmarks. He called you by name in the wound, before you were formed. He bottles every teardrop. He came down to you in flesh to do what you weren’t strong enough to do. Live perfection. Heavens, is delight an understatement? & I think of my God quieting me with his love, & I think of when an infant is stirred, full of tears in the darkness of the night, & I imagine him as the parent whose heart hits the floor, power-tiptoeing down the hall into the room to pick the child up out of the crib, each sway & you’re okay dissipating all fear. &, sweet pea, you are sung over. In the wee hours of the night when you wake up to toss & turn & stretch & curl up, he is rejoicing over you with singing. He is enthralled by your beauty, crying out would you just look at this gem?
It’s crazy love & easily blown off as smallness & normal. But there’s nothing casual about his feelings for you, & sometimes I think we just need a little reminder, a sweet little whisper. He doesn’t just like you. He loves.
& this is love. That our God is with us.
That he is all we need.
It’s your turn, love. Break the silence. Spill your guts.