Sunday, August 7, 2011

The only gift to give.

Restless, my feet hit the floor well before 6.

My mind can't stop, so why should my feet?

Shoes on, hair up, I begin.

I am found in the aftermath of thought obedience.

Where is my joy?

I know that You are intimate because You desire that which is dear in my heart.

You do not ask for gifts of the material, for You know me well.

The material does not hold me.

It can be given freely, without sacrifice.

You call for the personal.

You gently ask for my innermost desire and call forward my surrender.

I am running.

I always want to move towards You.

Fear can be distracting.

You pursue me with Your favor, even in my indecision.

Who am I that You would show me Your goodness while my heart is wavering?

With Your history of faithfulness, who am I to hesitate?

I come around.

I return towards You.

I surrender.

Eyes open, it is a new day.

Where is my joy?

You are faithful to meet me, even when I am standing still.

You speak to my heart of Your ways and I am sad.

I have robbed You of the gift.

What is surrender without joy?

What kind of a gift has this daughter given her Father?


I may have gifted You with surrender, but it is not whole without my gladness.

And His feet strike the ground.

And His load is heavy, heavy as a tree.

And He is walking for this daughter.

And He whispers to me in my closet and says "I get it. Surrender is hard. But for you, I did it with joy. For you are my joy."

With feet dipped in the oil of gladness, You walked the hard road for me.

May I be no different.

May I give the only true gift.

A joyful surrender.


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