"The way is
straight and narrow..."
- Mary Baker Eddy
I come to
You
confused,
uncertain,
pleading,
begging You
trusting You
to
give
me direction,
guidance...
please
put my feet
on the clear
path and
show me
the way,
Your way...
dear Father,
You know
that
when I turn my
heart
in Your direction,
I am not
looking for a
broad path,
a meandering road
with
many options...
all I want
is for
You to help me
do what's
right,
to give me precise
directions,
to point out the
obvious
waymarks,
to carve out
a deep
swath of clarity...
a path free
from
the
wandering,
divergent,
tangential,
circuitous
route of
indecision
and choices...
I want direct,
clear,
straight,
narrow...
the path
you have promised
I trust it,
I count on it,
I lean all
my hopes,
the weight of
my desires,
into You
I am tired
of my wondering,
wandering
ways...
broad,
vague,
and indirect
give me
straight and
narrow,
so I can see
beyond myself
and
find
You...
only You,
and
Your plan
for
me...
"...I will
bring the blind
by a way that they knew not;
I will lead them in paths
that they have not known:
I will make darkness
light before them,
and crooked things straight.
These things will I do unto them,
and not forsake them..."
- Isaiah
"My salvation
draweth nigh..."
to be offered the
promise of
mercy,
forgiveness,
no condemnation...
who am I...
that my God has
made this
promise
to me?
I will tell
you who you
are in
My eyes...
you are My child,
My beloved,
My adored and
delighted in...
you are all the gifts
of life,
and joy,
and purpose
that
I have
washed up
onto the sea of
promise...
you are the brightness of
My rising,
the
first glimmer of pink light
along
the eastern horizon,
the dancing spark
of wonder in
a child's eyes...
you are ten thousand
rings radiating through
an ancient sequoia
each leaf that turns towards the
sun,
roots that plumb the depths of
the earth,
the song of a
lark
who sings a song
without words
and never
stops at all...
you are the shimmer of
light on a wind-rippled pond,
the taste of strawberries in June,
the curl of chimney smoke on a crisp
November
night,
the scent of
apples,
a mother's fingers,
a child's
sigh...
you are
an awakening,
the first moment of knowing,
ripened fruit upon the
vine,
a benediction
a prayer...
"there is
therefore,
now,
no condemnation
to them..."
"Love,
never loses
sight of
loveliness..."
- Mary Baker Eddy
he reminds me
from
his place
above my head
and
behind me
at the mirror
really?
never?
no, never
he
says with
conviction...
but,
I wonder
aloud
not even when
my smile
fades...
and
the
softness of my
words
have
become sharp
with
anxious
fear...
no,
he says...
not even then.
but,
what about
when I
forget to remember
that we
were once young, and
in love
won't
the dog days of
too many bills, and
too little
patience,
have
dimmed
the brightness of
my place in
your heart's
constellation...
no,
not
even
then,
he says.
but,
I will grow
crinkled with
time and
my softer places may
grow softer still,
things could droop
or spot
or fade to
a colorless shade of
something
not
like the me
you
fell in love with...
so...
and i wait
so what,
he says
and then
I
know
I really know
he means it
the way
his
Father
means it
everytime I
go to Him
in prayer...
I know
that the
love I feel
is already
mine...
this love
I learned to
trust
as real,
the first time
I looked into
each of my daughters'
faces...
was
mine too
a gift
of grace...
unearned,
unsought,
unbidden
it comes without
pursuit,
it springs from
places
silent and
sure...
"really..."
I ask,
really
he says
and I believe
him
but to feel it
to really feel it,
shining on the
shadow spattered
landscape of
my human-ness,
to feel it
radiating,
reaching,
penetrating the
dim primeval
places
of
doubt
and uncertainty...
lighting
my life
with loveliness
well,
it
surprised
me,
and,
still
takes my
breath
away....
I feel
like
an angel
something
holy and
sacred
in his
sight...
"...its
halo rests
upon its
object..."
- ibid.
