I did not expect to find You,

In the dark and desperate places of my soul,

Barefoot and on Your knees,

Praying with me-

I thought You existed

On some mountain top,

Beaming with light,

Filling my world with so much joy-

I would not feel pain.

Perhaps for some this is true.

Then there is the rest of us-

The weeping prophets,

The angry and rebellious Jonahs-

You call your own.

Out of the whirl wind of my confusion and pain You speak-.

You are not afraid of my mental infirmities or  weaknesses,

Or the hidden bitterness,

I have carried for far too long-

You walk among  twisted shadows,

Of the ruins,

Devastated for generations.

You hold  me close,

Your disheveled lamb

As I mourn.

Sometimes I cannot know,

If You are rebuilding or rescuing,

I don’t even care-

Not now.

I am just so grateful,

That you are here with me,


Where no on else can go,

Loving me.

Like no one else can.










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An imperfect and broken woman, I seek to know God better believing His promise "to make all things new..." one day at a time, one moment at a time.

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