Sep 24, 2016
Euphoria. I search my for vernacular for expression and nothing is befitting. Excelsior. I ventured through my pruning, my purification, through great abasement. Stopped by my furnace, journeyed through my wilderness, and made it to the Potter's house to be molded; --and broken, yet again. And now? Now I soar through my silver lining as my heart floats in permanent thanksgiving. This is not about a baby. It's about the faithfulness and the promise keeping virtues of the One who made him. I am in love with Love. Abba You saw fit to see about me, to consider me in my distress. And for that my praise cannot seize nor get any less. I praised you through the storm and I will yet praise you when it's calm. You alone are worthy. My words fail me when I try to thank You adequately. Your Spirit steps in to say what I cannot. Your grace sufficed my suffering. It suffices my sorrows and is sufficient for me. My tears flow in adoration of You. Tears that once wet the cheek of my daughter in hopes that a miracle would emerge. Tears that now wet the face of my son who then tears in return. What love. I have learned that miracles aren't merely in happy earthly endings. But in anything attached to Your divine plan. And that I am. I have nothing but praise, my life is in your hands. Contentment. Peace. And joy. These heavenly realities engulf my person. I can feel a host of holy worker angels encompassing me. I decided that eternity was too great, and too far away to delay. I want You, and all the goodness that is You, here and today. So I embrace Your will, I'm humbled before Your grace, and if you would just let me wash your feet with my tears. I seek no sustenance or blessings, I only want to see Your face and be cradled in your loving arms. My God. My Savior. My King. My Jesus. My Lord. Thank You.