Winter

I sit in silence, pondering,
My soul in sin and error pining,
In the dark waiting to feel its worth.

My roots, my roots, they’re shallow.
They gasp for water, for sustenance,
For the life that is much deeper.

My obstinate flesh claws at my heart,
The last red leaves clinging to an autumn tree,
Rejecting my labor to be bare.

But the winds of grace will strip my branches,
And I will stand tall, ready for spring’s new birth.
My white bark shines and my roots grow deep.

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Always

You, my child, are more than your mother’s sins
You, little one, are not your father’s flaws
There is no one else anywhere like you
And I, beloved, think that you’re wonderful

There is One who knew you before your birth
He loved and delighted in you always
I knew you since the day they brought you here
And I, beloved, thought you were wonderful

You’ll fall short and exceed expectations
You’ll love some and hate more than you’ll want to
You’ll regret and say you have no regrets
And I, beloved, will think you’re wonderful

Someday you’ll grow up and hate your parents
You’ll try to understand, resenting them,
But I hope, at least, that you’ll remember
That I will always think you’re wonderful

His pleasure

cheetah was made to run
muscles pulsing, heart beating
flying over the savannah to ensnare her prey in her teeth

lion was made to roar
jaw wide, eyes wild
bellowing at the sweltering heat in the midday sun

I was made to

dog was made to bark
hair raised, teeth bared
straining to tell his boy there’s a rabbit, there’s a rabbit

falcon was made to dive
wings pinned back, eyes focused
falling upon the rabbit that squeals in her talons

I was made to

singer was made to sing
diaphragm pushing, voice ringing
telling of love and loss to the enraptured hearts in the room

runner was made to race
legs pumping,  chest forward
sprinting toward the line past her panting competition

I was made to

was I made to run, bounding, straining
was I made to sing, crooning, belting
was I made to build, lifting, exerting
was I made to create, imagining, molding

I was made to sing to praise to cry out to preach to share
I was made to run to leap to carry to strive to try
I was made to love to trust to serve to edify to hold
I was made to glorify to magnify to worship to exalt to lift up high

like the cheetah, like the lion
like the dog, like the falcon
like the singer, like the runner
I cannot help but glorify Him by doing what I was made to do

He made me to
I will