Sitting on that wooden swing.
My eyes intent on the sky
Little puffs of white clouds are pushed along by a cooling breeze.
The ice in my drink clanks against the side of the glass with each back and forth motion of the swing.
The wind chime on my porch is singing me a song of approaching summer.
I’m looking at the sky, and I’m not… I’m thinking beyond that blueness,
Beyond the clouds, the milky way, beyond the numerous stars and moons…
To the God, to my God.
I think “Why… why do I matter?”
As delicate as a soft petal flower, it’s beauty swaying in the wind… tomorrow it will be shriveled up, it’s beauty gone, it’s presence no longer… so are we.
To a God that looks out on his people… as if looking out towards a field of flowers and weeds… each day another flower withers, each day another flower opens… So we are born, and so we die.
“How can we matter?”
I have a soul, my soul loves the Lord, and I want to share His love with those around me… I want to save those souls that are lost, but I struggle… I struggle because I think I won’t be enough. I think I’ll stumble over my words. I think they’ll see me and think I’m an imposter because I’m not perfect.
I’m not perfect.
If it weren’t for the Grace of God,
His Grace and His Mercies
I would not be where I am at even today, but still…
I’m not perfect.
So who am I to tell others of Him, without them taking offense and pointing fingers at my mess?
I sit here with the sun beaming warmth, yellow hot on my face, looking up at the sky and I want more… I want to be more and I want to do more and…
I feel so useless.
I surrender in that moment… I surrender my life to my God that knows all
I surrender my time; I surrender my gifts, to my God.
To my God that I know is looking down at me from beyond the clouds and beyond the blue.
To my God who has spotted me out of the field of flowers all so much lovelier than me…
To my God that loves me, unconditionally, and I have no idea why. I can’t fathom why?
I trust in Him... with all of me, I trust in Him and I wait on Him, and I wait in Him.