My day has dawned. And the first thing my flesh wants to do is break the fast.
My spirit however, understands that a bowl of grains will not fill me like feasting on the Word will.
So I sit. And I flip open the pages and I land softly, in the Psalms.
And as I do - before I even have the chance to take them in - I hear the words of my husband spoken the night before:
"Write your own psalms, Katie."
This - coming from a braveheart with rugged hands, a man with no inclination to weave words....but a man who knows his woman. And her Maker. And how the two commune.
And with the pages open before me - I'm thankful for the Words and I'm thankful for the rugged yet tender man who encourages me to consume Them, and then pen some of my own.
So I do. And there - I find that it is vital for me to put words to the worries - to the doubts, to the questions, to the discoveries.
Especially the discoveries. For we shall not forget how He reveals Himself to us and grows our faith and leads us to Love. We must remember the revelations.
As I pour out my mind's thoughts - my mind heals. In between the scribbles - the Savior sits. For me. Maybe not for the braveheart...but for the braveheart's bride. The Saving One, the Stand-In, sifts the visions and voices in my head until the worries, the doubts, the questions are swept away - so that the peace, the revelations, the Jesus-joy reigns in my recollections, instead.
Feasting on the Word - starves the flesh. Penning evil thoughts - empties my mind of their power. And early morning devotions to the Father - fill.
And do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind, that you may prove what is that good and acceptable and perfect will of God. - Romans 12:2
Oh Lord, let my mind be lifted higher
Out of the earth's dirt. Out of the filth. Out of the worldliness.
A battle rages behind my eyes.
The doubts and anxieties foraging there - stifle me.
And I know that those fears flaming between my thoughts...
can only be thwarted by You.
I know. Because I've tried - and tried - and tirelessly tried..
to quiet them in my own power.
But their power overpowers mine.
Enter your mercy. Your grace.
Jesus, your presence.
And they flee.
Oh, Lord. Your immeasurable grace...
seats my mind in a safe place
Out of this world
In with Yours.
And I praise You.
For this - Father, I praise You.
Friend, pen it out. Or if you are like my braveheart - just pour it out. He meets us in the penning and the pouring - when it's Him we are seeking there. Love to you.