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Once there was a day when I lost everything else
Broken
Fallen
Beaten
The day my life-raft drifted away
And left me drowning
What I thought was certain
Became a shadow
The secret princess stopped her dancing
I lost my grip
Interlocking fingers fell apart
And there I was alone
Days turned into months
And I sit and watch an old friend talk
about remaining true to his heart
No matter what the cost
And I realize this is not what I want
What I want is Him
Yeshua
He burned a cross into my heart
Years ago
And I don’t want what I want
I want what He wants
I want Him
Because I was not made a whole
I was made a part
And I only fit Him
Every other piece torn away
Left His place open
My broken heart exposed His resting place
And now the secret dancer rises
Only it’s not as much a secret anymore
The sound rises
Her arms lift
The light strengthens
And she realizes she doesn’t need her life-raft
An eternal spirit touches
the fingertips of God
The earth trembles
And even as the pain intensifies
The brokenness reveals a greater glory
A magnificent surrendered beauty
That will not die
J.
I love the last bit ... and even as the pain intensifies ... What about those people that feel like their lives are good. That God is blessing them and that they don't need anything more? What about the people that look on those in pain and wonder why we stay in it? How do we say that we are right and that they are missing something? To them, do we look utterly crazy?
ReplyDeleteI don't think I would look at someone who is content and tell them they are missing something, unless He was specifically urging me to do so. And most likely, we do look utterly crazy. I certainly hope so. If our lives are fitting into the realm of normality this side of heaven, I would say that is a red flag for certain :D
ReplyDeleteI believe it is an uncommon thing to find something so precious that one is willing to sell all that he has for that one precious pearl. Many do not believe it exists, have given up hope, or try not to think of it. But once you have caught a glimpse . . .