My Journey to the Promise Land - Circumcision.

Could it be?
This freedom you mention, is it accessible to me?
My body is worn and my heart torn.
Yet you say there is freedom in His name.

I was baptized by water, a sprinkle to show my parents love.
The heavens spoke, claiming all I am.
Years would run by, and I a child would run 'round as well.

I was overcome by the Holy Ghost, in an ordinary service.
With laughter & tears, God was near.
At the tender age of seven, the world was beginning to grow.

I was exposed, a darkness that would taint my very soul,
The enemy would try to consume all I was.
I'd be baptized again, this my choice in the waters of the Church.

I would sin, but what does a child know of fallen man?
Lies, confusion, and yet God would speak.
The Spirit would whisper, and carry me in the night terrors.

I was submerged in the Holy waters a time or two again,
to be certain of my Salvation to His Hand.
As a adolescence what does one know of certainty or trust?

I sat in the seats, wishing for my death, as I was dead inside.
The worship team playing, youth singin' along.
Yet the Holy Spirit came, baptizing me in fire, speaking a new tongue.

You spoke, so very often I could hear You speak.
My soul would fight, my very sin arguing with ihe Holy One.
The conflict in the mornings, and through the nights.
I doubted I would ever be whole, and longed for okay.
Yet You were so very present, wrapping me in Your Wings.
Speaking Your heart to me, and I speaking Yours to others.
We walked together, and I knew I was not alone.
But sin consumed me, and death was ever knocking.

I don't know when it was, when the storm subsided, and I'd breathe.
Was it in the morning, the night or a season?
There was certainty in my voice, a confidence in my stance.

I was a wife now, a mother too, a student, a worker, a daughter.
The many hats required a new type of strength.
So even in my lack of asking, the Spirit descended making me new.

I was strong enough, I was good enough now. I was all about me.
I would serve, I would work, I would love.
I knew enough, I was brave enough, I could make my dreams happen.

I built barracks around this heart. Declaring the walls fortified with faith.
But they were absent from a living God.
Rather it was a dead idol, a false image of God that I served.

I responded to Your call, in a Lenten night, You would speak.
In the mornings I would discover You.
The Spirit of God, a wind whirling around making my walls fall down.

I am back where I was before. Yet lacking faith, and so unsure.
After many years, I don't know my Father's voice.
The Spirit's whisper meshed within my own, and the uncertainty is back.

But You speak, and I can know.
At least that's what the pastor said.
That as I make myself vulnerable, You would circumcise my heart.
That the fight doesn't have to kill me,
In fact it doesn't have to live inside.

If this is true Spirit - I want it.
If it can be Father - please take me.
If this is true brother Jesus - show me the way.
Because I can't follow You, and follow me.
I can't love myself the most, and make space for You.
Because You demand everything, and all I am.
So come.
Oh please, please, come.
Circumcise this heart, I am renewing my covenant with You.
Teach me Your whisper again,
Let me trust my Father's voice,
and I will swim in these Holy Waters till my dying breath.

Intimacy - as inspired by Teddy Hart

I'm afraid to disappoint you.
In the reaching of my dreams, I may let you down.
But maybe you know that already. In the midst of our conversation you know I am going to disappoint you - like with Peter, you aren't angry just stating a fact. Yet you still say,  "come follow me even after you've let me down, come with me. In fact your failure is what you need to truly follow after me, away from your preconceived ideas. Your plans of success now gone you can know me and love me as I am - not just who you want me to be."

Help me follow you Jesus, to humbly ask "can I not fail you?" rather than proudly assume that I won't.
Precious Lord, help me let go and follow you. I may let down the world, and maybe even you, but you still call me to follow you. Help me Lord, for I long to love you like Peter did. I want to say that yes I do love you Lord, as we sit over your meal.

Thankful

This is a short account but necessary to relieve the pressure on my chest.

This is my Jordan, these words my stones, a hopeful marker of the work of the Lord. Clearing who I was to make way for what is to be, and through the rushing waters He holds back it's current to let me cross into the Promise Land.
Oh Lord let us walk with you into the Promise Land....