Where my Soul is at Home

I discover God’s greatness in weakness.

I discover His love in all the lacks laid bare.

The weight of His Glory finds me there.

It brings me to my knees in awe, then lifts me up in arms of grace.

It whispers to my weary soul.

I AM. enough.

My soul aches for this place.

This is the home it seeks.

I see it in the shepherd boy singing songs to his sheep on a starry night.

I see it in my sweet Savior’s “no crib for a bed” birth.

I see it in the father who cries out “I do believe, help my unbelief!”

I see it in Peter the Rock after fear had won and his faith had crumbled and he responds to Jesus’ repeated question “Peter, do you love me?” You know I do, Lord!

I see it in the prostitute who knelt down in overwhelming gratitude, washing her Savior’s feet with her own tears and drying them with her hair.

I see it in Paul’s humble and honest “I am a wretched man…who will rescue me!” admission.

I see it in a Sunday greeter serving others through her widowed tears of grief.

Oh Lord, it’s these broken blemish filled places where I can see Your son rise!

I can’t find it in procedures. I can’t see it in the polished to perfection shine.

I find it here.

Here in the midst of pain.

Here in the midst of holes.

Here in the midst of wrong turns, unanswered questions, and delays.

Here I am, Lord… speak…Your servant is listening.

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