for once, let it be real:
That when I feel worse than dust but I find calmness drawing in my sketchbook with pastels just the way You make me feel, I don’t seem to myself (fearing I would to others, too) like a child that got stuck in time but a fully grown woman that’s complete in You, needing no one, nothing else.
That when I’m doubting, yet again, about my life and the choices that brought me here I get to also remember Your hand that closed every door before and after and Your feet walking wherever You intended me to, right there behind me; Your arms leading me every time.
That when a simple video quoting how beautiful You find me, how loved; as doves or stars… I know it’s You, telling me just that and get to forget anyone that didn’t… instead of having to tell myself it was just an algorithm’s lucky charm.
I have nothing, literally nothing… except a You.
That whenever I see everyone else relishing the perfect lives they built for themselves, with the sun You provided for them, and Your rain, I get to know it in myself it’s me the one who ran with the true luck, even in the midst of everything I relinquished to go deeper under water.
That it’s not utter foolishness knowing it is only I the one who found true life, because You chose my heart.
That I could find myself all the better for it because now I get to love You, and You’re better that anyone else… surer than anything else.
They get places faster, they always seem to go higher… if titles and numbers where Your way of answering I’d fear it’s them You’ve been guarding… but it is me the one that cried for years just to know if You where anywhere near, and You were; You found me.
That when the wind carries Your whisper I don’t have to quickly forget about it fearing it is my weak mind just losing sense, please,
because You speak.
Because no title, and no adding of impressive numbers could ever take me far, or You far from me, me from You, and there’s no high higher than the Most High’s, looking and pouring His Spirit upon me, from His beautiful dwelling,
the one I get to visit time after time.
That this, is true luck and no charm, even if they’re moving on with their lives and mine still seems like a low-key no.
Is what You’ve been doing with me, what You’ve been having me do, somehow too small?
No, You gave me hands capable of doing good even if it seems to be just words calling upon Your Light, after years of doing nothing You would have; the reason You had to save my heart.
That when I see how easily they still have it, only living and never surviving… I forget the need to curse them and all their doings, feeling that their laughter and joy still somewhat cost mine.
Every word, every thought, every time they tried to force these hands… I’ve gotten to have hope knowing You didn’t let them establish their wants, You hold my lot.
I could be envious, I would… I am, they have houses, cars, friends, travels, and engaged hearts, or worthy numbers,
and over here, I become more and more like a child that can do none… or this young woman not with a frozen heart, but frozen in time,
still not knowing the way out, or knowing there’s none until You move Your hand that closed doors in front of me and behind, under Your sun, feeling Your rain, because I cannot move Your hand and that’s something I wouldn’t even want,
That for once I get to know myself to be the only one truly soaring high, because yes, I know You, and I’m even starting to learn Your true desire, Your delight:
Loving-kindness over wise men that glory in in their wisdom,
Judgement before mighty men that glory in their might,
and righteousness instead of rich men that glory in their riches,
That in these, too, I delight, because You are my whole heart. The only one that truly matters.
Because… is it… is it, by any chance, low to say that for all those things I’m still missing I’ve gotten to learn at Your feet?
I could never, it’s the highest saying of them all,
I could never, so please,
let it be real,
That I’m not wounded; that I’m healed and You’re moving.
And that when the right time comes, You will make it happen quickly, for You are the Lord and my times are in Your hands.
Please, please, let it be real.
-SFTS
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