Thursday, July 14, 2011

Crux of the fabric.

Who can sleep when these thoughts, vivid, are crawling around in my mind like worms in fresh soil?

This past Sunday, I joined my brother and sister in law (I do believe that is the first time I have typed that! ah) in the quest to find a new church. We attended one in Phoenix and sang Hymns. With an edgy beat. I loved it.

All week long, I have been stuck on a phrase from Be Thou My Vision...

"Heart of my own heart."

So simple.

Yet it has taken me 4 days to process.

Tonight, after spending 4 hours, in person, with one that I love {Briauna}, we climbed into our cars and talked on the phone all the way home.

Prayed, really.

For years, I have known that God has cut Bri and I out of the very same fabric.

Beautiful fabric.





Don't get me wrong, He has sewn us in to two distinct patterns... but the fabric is very much the same.

Tonight, on my way home, I smiled at the picture that He has made us out of His heart.

He has not made me out of His mind.

Do not be mistaken, I enjoy the acquisition of knowledge; thinking.

But it is not my strongest suit.

With diligence, perhaps it could be, but I have not earnestly sought that.

In the same way, I smiled tonight and thought that He has not made me out of His hands.

I like to work, serve, give.

It is something I enjoy, but again, it is not my strongest suit.

Much room for growth, for development.

Tonight, in a simple, but profound way, I realized that out of every organ, functioning body system, He has made me from His heart.

Ah, now this I can resonate with.

His heart.

It is the predominant pattern in the fabric of my life -- yes, the others are peppered in too.

But His heart, is my earnest desire -- the thing I seek above all else.

To know His love.

To be filled with it.

To pour it out on those who are hidden inside of it.

Bounding, it is large.

Larger than your shame and the baggage that you carry, His heart is big enough to hold.

Big enough to bring you in, to lose you in His intimacy.

His heart is what I most relate to.

His heart is what I love to share. And like that, I lam learning to share mine too.

Who am I to censor love -- to dictate who gets it and how much?

Tonight, in the simplest of ways, I prayed that His heart would be the crux of my fabric, of ours.

To get all nursing-ish up in your grill.... I prayed that He would be my coronary arteries.

Always supplying me with the what I need to carry out the demands of what it placed before me.

Always enough.




Incompatible with life without it.

Eyes heavy, I smiled and whispered: May You forever be the heart of my own heart.


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