I wake to walk barefoot in this quiet land Made by a whisper, held by a breath Of love that has outlived my long time here. The morning wave bows to praise you, my heart a firm first, unquenched in your midst. I am not the sun, but I am your light learning to shine, Spilling over the cliffs, searching through each ridge to find you. My soul knows it shall not want, and still, it wants. My bridegroom, I ask you, would you teach me to want only you? You, who pour yourself out into ordinary flesh, Calling my mortal body your home, making me your own. I am your beloved in soft hues of dawn, in blacks of storm, What is love, if not this? If not you? I love You — with wavering devotion, I want You. With eyes that are learning to be still — I love You. Where common miners scavange for food, I seek you, In this morning light where noise can not find me. Distractions clamour for my attention night and day, and still, I want You — for you are not far, you are close embedded into the pulse of your wanting bride.
Beloved Reader,
How impossible it feels to remain entirely devoted in a world that begs for my attention. The Psalmist writes “The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want”, possibly to remind the reader that the Shepherd is enough. How I long for my first love to awaken.
Do you remember the days when you first truly fell in love with Jesus? The book of life your daily source, and prayer your daily wanting. I have been praying for this first love to awaken within me, that I would be satisfied in Christ alone. My numbered days confront me, often; I am but a shooting star, my days are not as long as I think, nor are my years. How many do I have? I do not know. Do you?
How can I live for him in the busy moments as earnestly as in the still? Last night I lay in bed, mumbling prayers to my bridegroom. I speak with Him every day and still, I want more. To speak with Him is not enough, I must live for him entirely, wholly, holy. There is not a land I can escape to that can grant me as much peace as His presence.
A Prayer:
Father, awake within me the desire to want you.
May I trace your name in my lovers palm
May my knees leave creases in this carpet from hours spent seeking you.
May I want you more than attention, more than creativity, more than my lovers touch.
Show me, my God, how much I need you. Oh, how much I desperately need you.
Help me, my God, in my many weaknesses.
Please, teach me to listen.
Hush, quiet my soul.
I love you, Lord.
I love you, Lord.
Thank you for my beating heart, for my lovers hand, for the warmth in the winter.
Thank you for my car, this roof over my head, for my fingers that type.
Thank you, my Lord, for suffering the Cross at calvary, that I might know you.
That I would really, truly know you.
That I would really, truly, love you.
Amen.
Join me, dear reader, in making Him everything.
Yours Momentarily,
Bekky Brill.