Not what I planned to say, never really is, though the plan I mean is faulty, flooded with me and my desires, my doubts and wishes and fears and ambitious precision which may never take into account
Slows me down and I fear stops me from what I want to achieve
So You slow me down
Stop me cold, frozen, eyes frosted over until You breathe life into me, take the sin out of me and I see it: that decayed nasty coiling viper that called itself my heart, so deceitful with its own will and way, mercilessly plunging forward, never content to stay and listen
The scales fall
I blink rapidly as You focus my vision
For the first time I see
I see You have rescued me
From the American dream
From my upper middle-class suburban ivory tower where I heard only my own heart and my own desires
And now I see and I weep, convulsively at times,
How little time I have and how small my influence is
Am I even able to share all that You are, all that You have done, all that You have so lavishly given to me?
I can never thank You enough
Let me spend the rest of my life praising You
for all You are (I cannot fathom Your majesty)
for Your love (how deep, how wide, it cannot be measured)
for all Your gifts (my breath, my husband and children, the floor beneath me …)
You above and below me, holding me securely together and if I should fly apart? You even then would graciously show me how that would glorify You still. How great You are! Amen and amen.
For further meditation: Acts 9:1-31
Has God stopped you and removed the scales from your eyes?