Here I am again, seeking your presence, asking for your mercy and Grace to sustain me. And once more you have provided though I have not easily discerned it. In seeking Shelter I have failed to realize your provisions– it is in this storm I have found you. You are the rain that washes over me in grace. You are the darkened skies that give me the eyes of faith. Lord, you have led me here, in the eye of the tempest, and here I am, a wayward child on her knees, flooding the earth with tears of grief and weariness.
I cannot begin to understand the path you have chosen for me. I cannot see beyond my next step. Yet in this wilderness I am learning to comprehend what it means to trust you implicitly. To know that every good thing you have given me is yours and yours alone and that I cannot love it more than you. Job blessed your name in the midst of the tempest, recognizing your sovereignty over all things. I pray, that although my heart breaks continually and the tears never cease, I may do as he, praising your name above all.
Many have told me I am a great inspiration and a faith filled woman, but Lord, I want them to know it is only you who sustains me. In the morning I rise only to fall, my eyes averting from you. Forgive me, Lord, for I am wretched and dirty. I implore you, wash me anew. Create in me a Desire to seek you in all things and at all times because I desire you not in the busyness of the day. I long to run from the storms, in order to seek my own way, failing to realize that in your providence, you are in the midst of it, my shelter and my salvation. It is to you I must run, despite the violent gale that assaults me on all sides.
You have shown me who you are. And you, O beautiful, glorious savior, are everything to me. My sin is so great, but you, Lord, you are greater still. My brokenness has been a great blessing because it is only here I see how magnificent and lovely you are. I do not desire another path because you are not there. I want to be where you are. I want to follow you through the barren deserts and treacherous mountaintops. Through the tempests and squalls. Across the fields of conflict and tribulation, and into the valley of the shadow of death.
I do not understand the heartache and grief of watching my child suffer so. I do not understand the constant trickle of difficulties that have permeated our lives. I do not understand the weight of affliction. But I do trust you. I trust you to provide a sufficient grace, to be the strength to my weakness, to be the shelter and salvation of my weary soul.
My soul cries to you as I kneel before you in dust, soaked in my own tears. I cannot escape the burden of suffering, of throbbing heartache. I come before you, Lord, rent with shame and weakness. Here I am, your wayward daughter. Here I am. Thy will be done.
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