On the liberty of the child of God

I long for you my God. I long for the freedom which is you. I long for that suppleness of spirit that lets go the grip and picks up the pieces with graciousness and generosity; that doesn't need to grasp in anxiety. I trust. I know. I see ... that all is given again and again and yes, again.

Then, I can let go of my fear of scarcity because you are all in all.

Then, I can take up my most amazing life to live in you, for your glory.

Then, I can allow it to run through my fingers like sand because there is enough … and nothing stays for ever.

All is gift, all lost and found in you. So I can allow the dance of life and death and healing and wholeness to take me in its arms and cherish me. Even as I let go and dance the lament of death, the pulse of life beats on in each fresh face awakening to greet the day.

I awake the dawn, blessed, transformed in faith, given in love. 

Silence

It's like a thirst that's never quenched, a love that never fails, a yearning for the more ... in between the cracks of life.

Why is the silence so noisy?
Me getting in the way
of your attention.
You.
Calling to me,
drip by drip,
torrent by torrent.
Till we are done.

And still ... and still ...
I believe in you.

I wait for you.