Honestly, I've been struggling to find a little "Christmas cheer".
I never expected to have to make space for Him like this, through this. I persist to push away the thoughts that smother my palette--all of the scents, the sounds, the pinch in my throat and in my heart, the reminders.
Sometimes I'm convinced that I'm living in the middle of someone else's novel. I so desperately want to close the book, but I'm not the one writing it, and I'm not the one reading it. At some point, I know this chapter will close and be ready for everyone else to read, but for now--all I can say is that I am inhaling, and that I am exhaling.
And Joy is a presence so sweet and strange. I thought I knew, before now, about Joy.
Joy sits close to the numb nerves and tells them that it will be okay. Joy is healing through quiet persistence. Time. Presence. Stillness. If I give in to Joy, then I know that His warmth will eventually break through and thoroughly captivate me in the most beautiful way.
If you liked these words, then try these...
He has designed you
He has formed your bones and your brain
your eyes, your teeth, the way you write with your left hand
and the way your knees bow out, just slightly, when you walk;
He has done it.
and even if it takes a millions year to know it,