Tap on the door and come quietly in.
Come. Sit. Be a person.
For mostly we stumble around.
Step. Trip. Berate our sense of being.
We’re often lost; occasionally found.
Fog. Afraid. Question every direction.
Pull up your chair and exhale into peace.
Breathe. Ease. Slip into your soul.
Stress tries to rue the day.
Clench. Knot. Neck muscles run rigid.
Humiliation runs rampant.
Ache. Angst. Suffocation sears our soul.
Light the lamp and let beauty bathe you.
Lean. Listen. Delight in the details.
We fear the face of focused attention find us.
Judgment. Mockery. A weighted balance wanting.
What we’ve always known.
Insignificant. Incompetent. Our presence doesn’t matter.
Open the window and feel pine air brush your skin.
Flutter. Stroke. Step in the moment.
We separate ourselves into parts.
Silly. Stupid. We should be spectacular or of star-striking status seven out of seven days.
Vulnerability. Vanity. We wrestle with one; hide behind another.
Add a log to the fire and read Psalm 62.
Ponder. Peruse. Search His promises.
What if you don’t know how to be the person inside you?
Confused. Overwhelmed. Mired in anxieties and insecurities.
How might we lean into our longings?
Gifted. Granted. Given to us for His joy in our enjoyment.
AND THERE IT IS.
A second tap as the door creaks open.
“Ah, there you are! I found you. My person.”
His toe catches the uneven stone.
Arms flail, feet falter, but he steadies himself…and laughs.
He flops into the empty waiting chair.
Stretches in your direction.
“I brought you fajitas” he states simply.
Psalms 62:1-2 ~ “God, the one and only— I’ll wait as long as he says. Everything I need comes from him, so why not? He’s solid rock under my feet, breathing room for my soul, An impregnable castle: I’m set for life.”
