Wait.
The thought of waiting feels lonely. It feels like something better is around the corner, a disruptive thought that messes with my contemptness. Doing noting, sitting, being still. Can I be still? I worry, I control, I do and I do and I do…I don’t wait. One of those big challenges I face, just to be who I am, who I am created to be, not the girl next door, not the image that flashes on screens that now surround my life.
Wait
Wait
But it’s a good plan, to wait, to see, just to be and rest in all that has been done for me. To trust that it will be ok. If I let go of the reigns my life won’t fall apart. It fell apart once or twice, I didn’t like that. You wouldn’t like that. But I will try to wait, just to be me. To sit where Grace sits, together and wait until I can see how Grace sits, how grace waits.
October 27th, 2019 at 10:09 pm
Good post!
Y’all inspired a short poem, hope you like it. Not strictly a Shakespearean sonnet, but I was on a roll, with an extra quatrain.
There is no need to worry,
no need to wonder why,
no need to strive and hurry
for I am marked to die.
Cancer gives no quarter,
and I am far past aid,
a lamb unto the slaughter,
but my blood-debt’s been paid.
I place my faith into the Christ,
though I’m a wayward child,
still and all, He sacrificed
His life for sin gone wild.
And yes, I am a sinner,
I yet do that what’s wrong,
but faith makes me a winner,
and with Him I shall belong.
At the end of this Green Mile
He’ll greet me with a small wry smile.
#1 at FMF this week.
https://blessed-are-the-pure-of-heart.blogspot.com/2019/10/your-dying-spouse-689-death-is-not.html
LikeLiked by 1 person