Wednesday, February 20, 2008

Transition Space

Waiting and wondering, then age slows me down
I finally move near enough to wear God's crown
His fitful young princess is beginning to see
The fully wise call in His ways for me

Still not knowing even half of His spiritual matters
He invites me to try despite all the rattles
Of my heart just emerging to make Him my home
Even here in transition-space He calls me His own

He sticks close beside me even when I run free
Unwittingly stepping away from His caring for me
He knows and still loves all my sticky, dark places
He's not even put off when my brokenness shadows over faces

He loves me in all things and conditions unpleasant
He just has more for me than the life of a peasant
His daughter, redeemed, His precious little one
If only I allow Him He makes life become
So carefree and boundless, other-focused I become
A daughter of the king with brokenness undone


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