Tentatively

I'm scared.
It scares me that I even have to think about this; that I don't have an instinctive reaction to it.
I know what I should do. But I don't want to do it.

The choices are staring me straight in the face.
One way; I will seemingly be satisfied. I will be happy; I will have what I've always wanted.
The other way; I can start anew. I can move forward. I will have what I've always needed.

So... what is it?  I have to ask myself this question carefully.
I know what I could gain... and I know what I would lose.

WHY should I even be contemplating this?! Does rebellion have such a hold on me that I would dare make this leap?
It's right; what they say: It takes more faith to believe that you will be all right without Him than it does to believe that you will thrive with Him.

It's crazy, but it takes more guts to believe that You have better plans in store for me than it takes to try to make my plans work out. 

No, I haven't listened. But You spoke to me anyway.
"I will make You new. I have BETTER plans for you. You don't have to remain the same person.
You can move forward, and live."

Better? But.... what if I'm satisfied with where I am now? What if I don't want to move forward?
What if I want what I want?!


"Convince me!" I demanded as tears began to roll down my cheeks.
"What more do I have to do?" His tender whisper shouted to me.

I don't know... I don't know....
Just... show me.

Show me that You care more than he does now, or ever could.
Show me that I don't need everything I think I do.
Show me that You love me. Let me feel that.

Show me that I don't have to settle.
Show me that You are making a new path for me.
Show me that You make all things new.

I'm afraid to talk about this, but at the same time - I want to be convinced.
I want my brothers and sisters to show me that You, God, are THE correct choice.
I know You are... but somehow my heart has forgotten that.

In the end, though, my decision is the one that counts.
They can talk to me all they want, but it is my life that will show who I live for.

I know what I should do, but I don't want to do it.
Tentatively, I'm asking You, God; although I know I don't deserve an answer, although I know You've already given me MORE than enough information to make the correct answer:
Convince me, please.

Tentatively, I'm trying to let go of my plans and let my heart go to the right person.
Tentatively, (and slowly) I am beginning to believe that You have better plans.
Tentatively, I am asking You to speak to me again... although I know that You can convince me to go the way my heart is resisting.

Tentatively, I let go, and ask that You give me something new to grasp tightly.

If I'm being honest...

Then I would have to say that things have been messed up for a long time.
If I'm being honest, then I'd have to say I haven't been the same person.
If I'm being honest, things have felt hopeless for quite some time.
If I'm being honest, I know this isn't from God.

As long as I'm being honest, I might as well admit that my ideas have changed.
It's okay to do something that feels right, without praying about it.
As long as I'm being honest, I might as well admit that I haven't been praying.
As long as I'm being honest, I might as well say that You don't seem like my best friend anymore. I don't feel close to You.
As long as I'm being honest, it's my fault.

Nothing seems right anymore.
I'm so lost that I don't know how to return to the correct path.
I don't know if I can return to that path.

As long as I'm being honest..
It's easy to tell people "God forgives you for everything you've done!"
But it's another thing to live it in your life, after you see everything you've done wrong.

It's hard to get back on track when you lost sight of the track.
I found it every once in a while, but lost it after a few days or weeks.
If I'm being honest, I know that a few songs aren't going to fix me.

If I'm honest, I don't know if I can ever get fixed.

Free Grace

I wander in aimlessly. Honestly, I don't even belong here. This isn't a place for people like me. Palaces usually don't accept beggars very kindly. Something about this place is different, though. I tremble knowing I don't deserve to be here, but long to stay nonetheless.

I lean my head all the way back to stare at the ceiling in the foyer. The gold engravings high above me cause my mouth to hang open in awe. Delicate golden angels with large wings seem to go on forever. They are grouped together, singing and laughing with each other. As I continue staring at the ceiling, the angels appear more and more lifelike. I still recall hearing a beautiful melody I have not heard before, and have never heard since.

I look down and see my rags, the ones that have been weighing me down for so long. To you, they don't appear heavy because of the rips and holes in them, but they hold me back. They kept me away from this place.

My bare feet tracked mud onto the clean, white marble floor, and my dirty hair is steadily dripping rainwater; creating a puddle. I glance outside, and see the rain pouring down. The thunder cracks, and I gasp; bringing my hands to my mouth.

My hands. I pull them away from my face to look at them. Despite the rain, they (like my clothes) remain caked in black soot.

I shiver again. What would the King of this palace do to me? I was a nuisance in His home.

Suddenly, I hear heavy wooden doors open to my left. I look to see a broad, handsome man walking towards me. I avert my eyes. What am I doing here? I don't belong here...


"Welcome." His reassuring voice echoes to the depths of my soul. I lift my eyes to find the Prince standing in front of me, smiling; His hand outstretched for mine. I cautiously raise my dirty, blackened hand and lay it in His. We begin to walk, but I soon collapse. I didn't realize how exhausted I was. In one swift movement, He picks me up and carries me in His arms. I rest my head on His shoulder and drift into sleep and complete assurance.

I just...

Just...
Just want to go.
Just want to be there.
Just want to be your hands and feet
Just want to illuminate Your love.

I just want to go.

I just need....
Money.
Lots of it.

But...
It's not working.
I'm not working.
This plan isn't working.

And when I asked for prayers, I didn't
Just want prayers.

Prayers are amazing, but prayers don't pay for an airplane flight or an in-country fee.

Prayers won't take me there.
They'll take me far, but they can't place me there physically.

:'(

"Just" just isn't enough.

Hands.

Strong hands.
Lifting me; holding me up.
I didn't expect this strength.
Strength contradicts my weakness.

Guiding hands.
One gripping my elbow; another holding my hand.
Those hands became my sight.
Vigilant hands protected me.

Praying hands.

Hands on my knees; hands on my hands...

Prayers being whispered.

Prayers are as tangible as hands.

Hands lifted prayers to His ears.

I don't fully understand the miracle that happened last night, 

But I know that God created that miracle,

And He put the right people in the right place at the right time.

It may not seem like much, but I KNOW it was.

Prayer is a powerful weapon, and it was certainly used last night.

God heals. Prayer is His medicine.

"Three different times I begged the Lord to take it away. Each time He said, "My grace is all you need. My power works best in weakness." So now I am glad to boast about my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ can work through me." - 2 Corinthians 12:8-9

"Such a prayer offered in faith will heal the sick, and the Lord will make you well." - James 5:15