I walk through dirt path this morning, my friend’s little girl calling loud, “Come with me! Come this way!” Her little boots scuff crisp leaves and fallen acorns. She finds two pine cones on a picnic bench–her strong, determined fingers grasping hold and flinging fast. I stay close, watching wisps of fine hair flow behind as she pumps little arms and trudges uphill.
Yellow sunlight shines bright through leafless trees. Rays of gold, warmth raining hope. I remember, a few days ago, how words–sweet whispers–came fast.
This is not the end, you know. Even though, this day, it may feel like it. This is the day I begin again. The day I begin again in you.
Your weariness is only temporary. Your sadness is fleeting, even though it feels like it will never end, never subside, never go away. You, my love, are sunshine. You are kisses of light upon flower petals when they stretch for light, for Me. I’m here.
I lift her into the swing. Thick black anchors her in and she leans forward, eyes closed, cheeks crinkled, smile wide. “I’m flying!” Her hands grip the front of her seat and she leans forward, then back. “Higher!” And my hands reach, pressing to the swing, and let go. She soars away and back, head down now, watching her feet scuff the tanbark when she lets them stretch long.
In moments. In light. In shoes scuffed. In paths unmarked. In whispers. In laughter. In wonder. In tears.
I am present, my daughter. I kiss your face with my hope. I grasp hold of sorrow with a single hand and I usher it away, bit by bit. I know you want it washed away with a quick brush, a dashing movement. I could do that. But I want you to look to Me, now, child. I want you to wait on Me and recognize Me when I come for you. I want you to practice recognizing beauty and hope.
I lift her out of the swing. It is time to head back.
I want you to wait on moments where hope feels too far away to imagine it as real. And then I want you to throw out doubt, just throw it out to the depths of hell, where sin was cast with the last breath of my Son’s words, choosing Me, seeking Me, looking to Me.
Practice recognizing beauty and hope? Practice seeing You? My efforts, my practicing–will be enough, then? I begin again, this day, by looking to You? By trusting You? By waiting and practicing recognizing You, all around? Will You show me then what You so readily see?
I cannot stop loving you. I cannot stop. I cannot stop chasing you, pursuing you, looking for you. Oh, girl, you are not my lost one. You are not hopeless or far from Me. I am here, and I come to hold you and lift your head to the light shining brightly on your face. Do you see it? Do you see how light comes to shine? Do you see how it came for you and how it rescued you and how light shines through all darkness so darkness, with Me close, is no more?
You will let me take steps toward You, and I will reach You. You are here. I look to You and wait. I look to You and do not remain passive, powerless, overwhelmed. You give me tools–your grace and strength within me to throw out lies. I don’t have to stay here, weary and sad. I don’t have to stay here, hopeless and lost.
Your power within me, your grace within me. Emmanuel. You are here. You are what is true. . . . But I am scared. I fear I will soon, again, feel so alone.
Do you know how all shadows are chased away with a choice to see Me? You can do this. You can see Me. You can see Me moving you, one step at a time, from this place where you feel you need rescue and I show you how I have already come and I come again. I never stop coming for you, my daughter. You are not alone, and it is not too late, and you have not done anything to chase Me away. You cannot chase Me away.
I am not lost. You have found me. I am not hopeless, shrouded in darkness. You lift my head. I look to You, and You help me see You. I surrender to You, and You show me your light. I claim your power in me–breaking agreements with darkness and sin and shadows–and You fill me. I choose You and wait on You, and You are here. I begin.
You are beloved and holy because I have made you so. You are lovely and clean because I have made you that way. You are brand new and adored and shame cannot find you. Find your name written on my hand; respond to my voice; know the name called out to you, in the light–my voice calling out when darkness feels all around but I show you I am here. In the light. Darkness isn’t around Me. And you are with Me. So darkness is not there, too.
I need You desperately, Father, and this desperation is my strength. I cry out to You, and You carry me, showing me I have what it takes to stand. You have come for me and come again. You never leave me and never forsake me and pursue me with a passion and intensity I don’t deserve.
But I desire You, and I receive You.
Yes, I receive You.
Yes, I see You.
Yes, come again.
Light all around my love. Light all around.
I am so delighted you, reading this now, are here. He whispers these words to us, in Loop–and then, a few days later after listening, I use this blog as a place to I dig into what He has said. I share this in community, with you here. For isn’t it important to know we are not alone? I share with you a bit of my own wrestling match with Him as I listen, as I ask Him to help me receive what He has said.
What was it like for you when you read “You Are Not in the Dark”, in Loop? Did you need to hear this encouragement today?
I would love to know what you think. And if you do? If you share a little bit of your heart here, in the comments . . . I’m going to do the next best thing I can do instead of the hug I wish I could give you instead. I’m going to send the first ten people who comment and share their thoughts on “You are Not in the Dark” the Ellie Holcomb song, “Marvelous Light”, the beautiful song that I can’t help but believe God pointed us to listen to when He whispered these words to us, in Loop.
So, in the comments, whisper your reaction to His words, include your email address, and I will send the first ten people the Ellie Holcomb song, “Marvelous Light”. I love it so much.
But especially, I love that you’re here.
Together, in Him,