Dear God, I just want what You want.
Is that too much to ask?
I'd like to have it tomorrow,
And wrapped in green with a bow
But I'm sure that won't be a problem.
I just want what You want, God.
Your way is always best.
I'm pretty sure the path will have
These turns and those bumps
But of course, You're the one in control.
I truly want what You want, God.
It's so hard to sit and wait patiently.
While I wait I'll just paint in a few ideas,
Get a picture of how this might look
But I'm waiting on You, really.
O Father God, I just want what You want.
I know You have it all in Your hand.
You might use red
With brown string?
There's a good chance
Of steep hills
And deep valleys?
You threw all my
Pretty pictures
In the trash?
Well, yes.
Of course.
That's what I said.
I want what You want...
I think.
What is that?
That's not how wanting what
You want looks?
Oh. Yeah, I did say I would make myself
Available.
That's not what making
Myself available means?
You're saying being available
Means letting You choose the colors
And paint the pictures?
It means allowing You to
Map out the terrain?
Oh, I see.
But You care about me?
You know my needs better than I do?
You see the future?
You have my best in mind?
I can trust You, right?
Yes, Father, yes.
I believe you.
I really am making myself available.
I confess I have no idea
What that might look like,
But I want what You want.
Really.
4 comments:
First time commenter here...Amen,sister!!!this is beautifully written!Thank you!
❤❤
So true to how I operate at times. It is truly scary to just let go.
here is a favorite poem of mine:
Mt. Moriah…the scene of surrender,
The mount that we must climb
To give back our dearest treasures
to the One who gave them.
We wonder how Abraham could ever do it
but as we climb Moriah’s slopes
in anguish of heart, we glimpse
the desperation of commitment,
the peace of surrender, and the
comfort of a God who asks for our best
there on the mount,
Where all supports and other trusts
have vanished, save the God who
has called us there.
We lay down our rights, all ambitions,
all possessions.
We relinquish our hopes, the hands
we hold, and the homes we love.
It is then as we stand alone,
dependent on God an Him only,
Broken and soft beneath His hand;
dying to our dreams
That the Voice of infinite love echoes
its benediction on the anguish,
The travail, and the pain of our way.
A benediction of blessing, of hope, and
divine favor. It is then we taste
the sweetness of surrender,
That is the song of Moriah.
I still am enjoying your blog! Tina
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