From the beginning of time, you knew my name. Like a potter, you molded me into a vessel. Every detail designed in the very being I am. Yet, I find myself now with pieces left broken. I, the formless clay once held in your hand. Your Word, says you heal the brokenhearted - those needing to be made whole. It says you bind up every single wound. So, Mender of all brokenness found in me, I lay mine out before you. You gather all of me up so gently, this body bruised and soul despaired. A mind so worn and and a mind so weary. Tending to every ache and deep hurt, hidden within a heart that weighs so heavy. When my prayers have not been answered in the way or time I think it should. Or when the miraculous healing hasn’t yet come. Let my heart remain steadfast even though my life is becoming undone. I long for you to make me completely new, yet I’m reminded it’s your will, not mine. You take these shattered pieces of clay - And with a golden hue painted between the lines, they are being
I long to see beyond the barriers and blockades standing in my way. Past a wilderness of tangled weeds and leaf-lost, barren trees in an ocean of unruly overgrown green. I can get so caught up with the circumstance or situation standing before me. I see the thorns threatening to pierce and feel myself recoil at the thought of pressing on through the jaggers. Soon forgetting. Soon questioning. Soon doubting. That the path set before me is a good one. Even when I don’t see the sunrise from the valley. Even when I can’t find a foothold on a steep climb. Even when I stumble along a rocky path. “Come. Follow me.” A beckoning carried by breeze, lingering there in the remaining leaves rustling. To walk through and press on. To push past what’s threatening my perspective. To catch a glimpse of what’s to come. And to settle into an undeniable understanding that He will carry me on. Even when I’m caught in the middle of where He is taking me and where I’ve come from. “He refreshes