planted

You will bring them in and plant them on your own mountain—
  the place, O Lord, reserved for your own dwelling,
  the sanctuary, O Lord, that your hands have established.          Exodus 15:17

 

 

Planted

In place of God

In the very face of God

He loves with reckless abandon

 

Given

Not our place

But his very own space

He knows no sense of bounds

 

Living

On the heights

In the house of holy

He has opened wide the sacred

 

 

There are days and times when the reality of a God who pursues comes crashing in. A God who pursues, not to judge or punish or destroy. A God who pursues to love, to bring in, to heal and to hold. A God who plants tender shoots, a God who loves broken reeds and bruised branches. A God who finds a home for the scarred in the realm of the sacred.

 

This is our God. He loves with unabashed passion. He knows no boundaries of propriety or decorum. He loves. And this love stops at nothing to bring us home—to his home made ours.

 

love’s deep sigh

When the Pharisees heard that Jesus had arrived, they came and started to argue with him. Testing him, they demanded that he show them a miraculous sign from heaven to prove his authority.
  When he heard this, he sighed deeply in his spirit and said, “Why do these people keep demanding a miraculous sign? I tell you the truth, I will not give this generation any such sign.” So he got back into the boat and left them, and he crossed to the other side of the lake.                  Mark 8:11-13

 

I wonder, was it the constant need for Jesus to prove himself that brings about the heavy sigh and the sadness? Or was it the demanding?

 

Why so resistant to believe?

Why must I prove myself again and again?

Have I given you so little? Have I been so inconsistent?

 

You come to me to argue instead of to share.

You come to me to debate and test.

Why not come to simply receive?

 

Is it because you have confused receiving with choosing?

Is it that your own have taught you of “rights” but not of gifts?

Why do you demand when I have already given?

 

So much of your energy goes to seeing what is not.

So much of your emotion to what hasn’t or didn’t.

Do these things really prove that I am not; or just that I am not as you’d have me to be?

 

I sigh deep when you doubt because I am not tame.

I sigh deep until I restore all things and make you whole again.

Did you know that while you anxiously wait for my return, I wait for it more?

 

prevailing thoughts

I am weary, God, but I can prevail.         Proverbs 30:1

 

I am weary. I’m worn out. I’m used up.

I can’t get my head around all the things to do,

So when do I figure out how to get it done?

Too much to consider; no space for thinking.

 

I am not in despair. I’m just always in transition.

I said I would follow wherever you led and I meant it as best I could,

But who knew following was such a persistent practice?

Always going, always gone, but never there.

 

Who knew it could be like this? I certainly didn’t.

I’m not complaining, I’m just saying,

I am weary.

 

But I can prevail. Can’t I?

I can prevail. I believe that, right?

I’m supposed to believe that. So I do.

Until I don’t. When I don’t

 

I want to believe that. I want to BE that.

But some days I’d rather hide.

What about some time to sleep?

Not sleep for sleep, but sleep for forgetting. For hiding. For just not doing.

 

Again, I’m not complaining, I’m just saying,

Who knew it could be like this? I didn’t.

I am weary, but I think I’ll prevail.

I just wish I could hide for a little while.

 

It’s a fight to believe and struggle and follow.

I get it—the way of the narrow and all that.

But I’m not a fighter so what now?

That’s not true, I love to fight. Just not today.

 

So maybe I’ll hide.

Just a little. Just for a while. Just today.

But where to hide? Where to hit the snooze undisturbed?

I’m not looking to quit, just stop for a while.

 

I know I’m complaining, but still I’m just saying,

Who knew it would be like this? I guess I did—at least a little.

I am weary, but I will prevail.

First I just need a little rest.

 

Keep me as the apple of your eye; hide me in the shadow of your wings  Psalm 17:8

come to you

I will not leave you as orphans; I will come to you.   John 14:18

  

In your pain of past disappointment,

and the bitterness of the unfulfilled.

In your worry for tomorrow,

or your fear of failures yet to come.

I will come to you. 

With your open wounds and burdens stacked high;

with your secrets kept in the darkest places.

With your pride that won’t let you bend low

or raise others too high;

Still I will come to you. 

Though you curse me, lie to me, doubt me,

when you misrepresent me or turn your back;

If you spit on me, mock me, call me liar;

when you do these things and more,

I will always come to you. 

When you declare your freedom, stomp your foot, demand your way;

while you hate, hold against, despise and envy.

As you worship others, your self, your stuff;

when you find that dark despair where nothing and no one can come to your aid

I will come to you.

You are my children, I will not leave you.

But you are my children, so I will not force you.

I will love you longest, I will love you best.

Will you receive my love, when I come to you?