I’ve been wondering what to write next. I’ve been probing my thoughts trying to find words. The more I think the more I find myself coming back to the love of my Savior. I know this blog is consumed with posts speaking of a love so big, so bright, and so amazing words can’t even really do it justice. But, can it ever get old? Speaking of his love?
Days are quickly passing by. It’s been a year since the Lord grabbed me by the heart and began this journey with me. It’s hard to imagine all that has transpired these past twelve months. Visions. Dreams. Miracles. Salvations. Friends. Conversations. Stories. All of it has been little pieces of duct tape putting my heart back together. I can look back and see how the Lord orchestrated it all for the use of his Glory. I can hear the “tap-tap” as the Maestro readies his orchestra. As the first few bars sound, the music already pierces the heart. Simple, but beautiful. The music touches all as the Author put pieces into place and directs. And it continues. He continues to direct and pursue and love. He is never far. He always loves.
His hands are the ones I have come to trust. To love. His hands are the ones that stretched from heaven and provided the beat my heart had all but lost. His hands are the ones who put the pieces together. His hands are the one lifted me from the pit and brought me into his glorious presence. His hands are gentle. His hands are rough. The break and heal. They push and pull.
But, these are the hands I’ve come to trust.
His hands are the ones who spread out the sky. His hands are the ones who formed the mountains. His hands are the ones who set the moon and stars in place. His hands are the ones who taught the waves to roll and the wind to blow.
These are the hands I’ve come to love.
His hands were pierced. His hands were broken. His arms stretch farther than I can fall. His love brought salvation. His love brought healing.
This is the love I’ve come to trust.
Tonight, I will rest in his love. I will wait for his plan. For he is good.