Words.
Words of love pour over me. The tender touch of my Father
As an old, wooden bucket gently drawing from the well, His love pulls forth salty tears down from within me.
My legs are bent beneath me, my bare feet slightly crossed. Long waves of hair fall over my face as I tilt my head towards the floor.
The darkness beneath my closed eyes release small and steady drops, leaving wet circles upon my legs.
His words.
Words of blessing, restoration. He makes me new. He washes and cleanses. He holds and comforts me. In the palm of His hand I find life, I find truth.
Peace overwhelms me. My heart throbs with belonging.
In a crowd of so many others, I kneel upon the ground, alone with My God.....
lost for words
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