Watt's Well

Room to Be, Space to Create

Tag: relationship

Candles upon cake

He does not manage us, to-do list us, or bullet-point us. He loves us. Is with us. And believing him feels impossible, until we do, like a miracle, like lukewarm water turning merlot red right there in the cup. And hope sprouts new, because God doesn’t give us a list. He invites us into the story.

-Emily P. Freeman, A Million Little Ways

This one has felt unusual, like a comma connecting two different ideas.  It doesn’t feel monumental nor extravagant.  But it feels like a pause, a gearing up for another long stride.

It is my birthday.  My personal New Year’s day.

This morning I sat cozily under my nap blanket with a piping hot mug fitting just right in my hands.  I read the quote above by my favorite blogger.  It grabbed me and pulled me in to listen closer.

I tend to look back over my life and compartmentalize seasons.  I shove 2-3 years in a cubby, as those years threaten to come bursting out onto the floor.  Labels hang above each square, generalizing its contents.

Its a system that fails me often, as pieces do not always stay in their proper place.

In a moment of silence this morning, with coffee as my witness.  Thankfulness sprang out of my heart and washed over my head and down to my feet.  Not the kind of washing that comes from emotional hormones or warm fuzzies, yet a washing that comes from the Spirit.

And in a brief moment all of my personal history was strung together in one note.  In one sentence. And this here, this day, feels like one glorious small comma leaving room for what is yet to be written.

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Oils blend, smearing into one another, causing art to appeal to the senses.

Last year I wondered and I desired for what was to come.  All I knew was that change was coming. But this? Different job, pursuing another degree, and regaining old ground in a new way.

Yea, you can’t make this stuff up.

I hadn’t a clue. But He had laid the colors. He took his thumb rubbed it across the canvas and smeared the scene into place.

We live one continuous journey.  All our stories worth telling.

What is He creating in your life?  And are you willing to let Him blend the pieces together in His perfect way?

He is

Me?

I am not self made.  I am uniquely designed, one of a kind.

I am who I am.

Moving from glory to glory.  Oh please, Amen! Amen!

I want to smell of Love and for that there is a cost.

I will gladly take the purging by fire.  Bring it on!  For I was built to withstand!

I will emerge even brighter, ever purer.

I am who I am because he is the great I am.

I am not self made, he brought me forth as his.

Breathed life into these working limbs.  Dreams knitted in this beating heart.

I am because he is I AM.

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Fresh wind in my sails

I saw Him standing before me with a tender smile upon his face. He approached. Before I knew what had taken place there was this big part of what I believed to be me in his hands. It appeared to be a solid stone birthed from the soil of the earth. A common pebble only a child would find significance in. On this stone was written a word I had not thought of in a long while: victim-less. It was hard to decipher; was this one word or two?

I realized I could not raise my right arm for long, as if my strength had failed. Not only so, I feared my chest would collapse if I held my hand in the air at length. I looked and found the place from which the stone really came. A hole straight through my body just below my right shoulder spanning mid-way down my torso was left in place of the earthen stone. The gapping hole looked weak, unsupported, softly vulnerable.

Then I saw as if the zoom lens had been spun, him working in the hole of emptiness. His hands moved as a skilled mason, creating walls of support. Smoothly cementing the walls of my chest hole so that the tissue around would be held up and not cave in. Already I felt life flow returning to the muscles of my arm.

But he left the hole and giggled in joy as he did. He had no intention of sealing it up with cement. I could feel wind blowing through me. I saw him rather proudly full of laughter reach his arm through the cement lined hole and out the other side of me. It brought him a ridiculous amount of pleasure.

Then I saw something so out of place it made me glance twice. Out of the cement through the tiniest of cracks peaked greenery on all sides. My mind befuddled, I thought, “I haven’t even soil in me to grow such lush green”. So there I stood gapping in amazement at the hole in my chest filing with green life. Things that appeared as trees grew.

I looked at him as he delightfully smiled back at me. His eyes were soft yet full of adventure. And he said, “Do you wanna see?”. Before I could answer I could see through his perspective, as if in his very body. I was starring, from his eyes, through the hole in the bodily form of me. I did not see the wall behind where my body stood. But instead beyond the thick bright brush I saw a world bigger and brighter than I had ever seen. A stream wrapped down the rich landscape with rolling mountains to one side and a beautiful colorful sun dancing its light upon the clouds on the far side.

I returned to my body, but as I did I heard him expectantly believing. He said, “Show them eternity, Lauren Elizabeth.”

  

     He is waiting to speak over you. It is you who are more than enough through the Son. More than a conquerer, you are being made brave. He removes what does not bare fruit that lasts because he excitedly desires the finest of foods for you. Filthy rich in mercy is this jovial king. Rest assured your mind will be blown; he does not dissapoint. He reaches from earth into eternity. Why not through you? He will show you things you cannot imagine, grow things you never thought could bare life. Come Lord stand before us, we want to see.

Tune me in to foot-tapping songs,
set these once-broken bones to dancing.
Don’t look too close for blemishes,
give me a clean bill of health.
God, make a fresh start in me,
shape a Genesis week from the chaos of my life.
Don’t throw me out with the trash,
or fail to breathe holiness in me.
Bring me back from gray exile,
put a fresh wind in my sails!

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