not you,
nor i,
can measure a lifespan on a manmade timeline.
this fosters a life that will never be enough.
as memories pass, the hourglass starts to become empty. the weight of regret + defeat starts to sink in as you look at the finish line.
but look up my child, you’ve been reading the wrong story. the road ahead is filled with joy, laughter, and hope. the pages are filled with colour and wonder.
… & they lived happily ever after.
the beginning.
The quiet, it reveals your power
No distraction, there’s only You
The lightning strikes
The thunder, roaring
It all sings it’s praise to You
Busy.
This is not a word I’ve chosen for you.
It takes away from specials moments.
It quiets intention.
It tries to fill holes that only I can fill.
You have heard my voice calling you to stillness.
Over and over again.
It’s time to start digging deeper into why I am calling you away from distractions.
Why I want you
to stop
Being
Busy.
Rise up my child.
Strength, the name you were given, does not come or go depending on the day. It’s not outward nor is it circumstantial. Strength is what I’ve placed inside of you from the beginning.
Stand tall, My Love. It’s time to walk out the name you’ve been given.
The flower waits for the sun to shine its light upon her to give her strength to grow. She doesn’t strive. She doesn’t beg. She simply waits in complete peace knowing her Master will provide what she needs. This is what makes her beautiful.
Pause.
Before you take on step forward,
Take one step back.
Wait.
Stay here for a while & remember how far I’ve brought you.
ARISE.
Faith is building as you reflect. I am the God that brought you through it before and I am the same today.
& I will meet you here again.
Slow down. Breathe. Open your hands and give me the things you’ve been carrying. Your hands have been clenched for so long that you have forgotten the joy that comes with releasing it to Me. As you release, you will be released from what’s been holding you down.
I am trying to paint this photo in only colour. All of it.
The moment the ink is flowing, I quickly run out.
Every. Time.
Consistency seems to be unattainable.
I try but yet I am left with this painting.
Black, white, and only glimpses of colour.
As I stare at this painting, I start to wonder…
Maybe the black, the white, isn’t lacking at all.
Perhaps this is an invitation that God is wanting to fill and colour in with his creative hand.
Maybe He takes delight in my weakness, my empty spaces, because it leaves Him room to move.
Wonderful God,
You go before me yet you stay by my side
You pick me up yet you meet me on my knees
Your judgement remains but your Mercy is triumphant
Beautiful Jesus,
You stand in my place even when I run away
I have failed you.
Over,
& over.
Yet, here you are.
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