O Lord above all others,
You show Yourself in the sweet nectar of the bees
and in the mighty clash of the fire held in clouds above.
Your nature is reflected in the bounty of spring blossoms
and Your love is captured in the devotion of a nursing mother.
Your whisper echos even as Your holiness roars,
Your love ever longing,
reaching and desiring a heart willing to try to hold it all.
You raise Yourself above the heavens,
Your eyes ever searching thru all of mankind;
seeking the one who will remain steadfast,
who will not lose sight of Truth's whisper.
Ever failing, I bow myself at Your feet;
I lay out my broken past,
pour out my muted devotion to Your ways
and pray that it is enough to find Your favor.
Father, You alone can form what was my useless shame
into a shining representation of Your glory.
Not concerned with the time or work needed,
You form this clay pot into an artful vase,
ready to pour out Your love and glory.
Like a river of grace and mercy,
You flow from this tender flesh as love,
winding and calling to another in need of Your peace.
Who is like You, Lord;
who else could take a tear
and create a smile so wide
it pains me to keep it upheld??
For Yours alone is the kingdom and the glory;
for Yours is the fragile body, mind and soul...
Yours and, prayerfully, never mine
For more information about this celebration of Lent on the pad
and why there are no comments allowed,
click here to read the first post Lent, Day 0.
Looking up as always...