It's Time


I have seen the sick healed and the broken restored. My hands have been lifted. My heart has been bowed. I have prayed the fiery prayers of a woman in travail, and have sat waiting for the Lord to speak to me. Never have I experienced what I am experiencing now. There is a groaning, a longing, for my Creator that I cannot explain. This yearning is felt in my flesh, in the aching of my bones and in the inability to breathe deep.

I need Jesus. Not the Jesus that I had construed, but my Master that I sacrificially live for. My greatest desire is to walk and live in His will. Hearing His still small voice pursue me, I am coyly going home. This is the walk of the prodigal son. I am the daughter who had to figure it out in the midst of her slop.


mooce said...

Keep writing! Write! Write! Write! You are better at this than you think.

menonita said...
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