Tethered Here
I sit,
Staring at the wall,
Wondering how I got here?
Wondering how following a heart of surrender,
Has left me here:
Crumbling,
Aching,
Groaning,
Shattered,
Pleading for some sake of normalcy.
This feeling of utter forsakenness close at hand.
Panic invades me.
Truth struggles against the deafening shrills in the dark.
As I sink,
Hardened by brokenness as stone,
Quickly evading the light of surface,
Numb.
Yet here, somehow, some way I cannot name,
Love embraces this heavy yet fragile frame I have become.
No words,
Just music,
Melody in the middle of the war.
This is resistance to the despair I am engulfed within.
This way through is welcoming the pain,
Befriending to look straight into its eyes and wait.
No rejection,
Rather facing it straight on.
Here truth unveils beneath the bitter emotion its wrapped within.
And here I sit a while,
Letting pain be teacher,
Epiphany,
Even friend.
From dust I have been created,
To dust I shall return.
This drowning overwhelms me,
Claims me.
Yet cannot cling to me.
For in the stillness I am found.
Womb that held me,
Wounds that heal me,
Wonder that leads me,
Wind that teaches me,
Water that transforms me,
Word that sustains me,
Worship that enliven me,
For I am found by Yahweh,
I am found by nurture,
I am found by life.
This ache,
This groan,
This crying out for Jesus,
Just as God once cried out for us:
“Ayeka”,
I echo to the One my soul longs for,
Groans for,
“Ayeka”,
Where are you Lord?
Where are you in this pain?
This suffering?
This darkness I cannot bare?
The answer,
It comes so freely,
“Hineni”,
Here I am.
Tethered to You,
Just as to Moses,
To Abrahama,
To Samuel,
To Isaiah.
These waters of my drowning,
Become tears of my weeping.
Undeserved melody as gift,
The presence of Yahweh.
As I weep lament and gratitude,
I rise into the arms of the good Shepherd.
Waters once threatening me,
Now carry me.
The circumstances of my wounds,
Could not abandon the seed of love,
Tethered within me.
Fingerprints etched into the sand of soul,
Lines traced,
Redirected,
New patterns forming,
Foreign,
Yet somehow known,
Grounding.
Waves cannot drown the anchor of worship,
For waves have potential,
To be water for miracles.
As wounds made way for an understanding Savior,
Suffering strengthens the tether to the presence of Yahweh,
The Holy One.
Not my will but thine be done,
Not my will but thine.
Tetelestai.
It is finished.
The Lord is my strength.
My feet like deer,
To the mountains I journey.
Hineni.
Here I am.
Tethered to Jesus,
Where goodness and mercy forever dwell.
I can hear the bluebird singing.
The time has come,
To surrender,
Savor,
Soar.
Amen.
