God, in stillness waits, watching our effort to push Him farther, grasping, gripping, sliding in doubt and chaos of our own design. He aches for us, beautiful arms tortuously stretched wide in embrace unmet, unnoticed, ever ready, rejected.
We, stumble in our power suits and heels, strengthened by our bent and crooked reflection, driven by our cold and leaky bank accounts, esteemed by our knowledge of the shallow and perishable.
Stillness, in rush & hurried mess, we try to catch the card mansion as it falls; doesn’t He care?! Why so silent when we’re crumbling?! Why not snap and poof, we’re back on top, pushing, scrambling, screaming, lying, hurting, running, anxious hiding who, what, we are not?
Dusty with rubble, we sit, knees in our hands, dazed from crying, still at last.
Hello, He is there. Too ashamed to say sorry or help, we sink into the dust.
Want out? I know the way.
my legs are broken.
I’ll carry you.
i’m dirty.
Only if you stay down there.
i don’t have words.
It’s ok, I have so much to tell you, just listen.
He whispers as He carries us through the mess and dust and grime. His words soft, deep, rhythmic comfort as His heartbeat we hear, strong now through the silence, wrapped in His arms at rest, on the way home.
