I hadn't yet intentionally stepped out from God's protection since He offered a warm safe place under His wing. I knew I had the freedom to do it, but the soft down tucking was so good and whole compared to what I'd known forever before. So I stayed, like a baby chick.
Tempted in a storm to squirrel out for just a second and get a little peck at what I "deserved", I peeked out with wonder... what was it like to chose by flesh how to respond to someone else's flesh? It had been awhile.
Immediately enveloped in the habit of my formerly dead self, the free gift of my Holy, debt free, righteous wardrobe was traded out for those of a flesh response. Somewhat of an orange jumper now that I'm looking back.
And I heard Nordeman singing in the background, the ten years past, familiar, "started rubbing sticks together, thought a spark would take forever. never dreamt this fire would appear..."
And that's about the way it went.
I didn't think of how pleased the vulture would be to see little me skirt out on my own for just a second. Some-wonderful-how I'd forgotten that he hates my Father and he wants to crush me for a snack in attempt to hurt Him. I hadn't seen the enemy up close in so long that it slipped my mind how he acts like he just might win the battle he's already lost, like he might still have a chance.
"asked for matches and i received a gallon full of gasoline..." again, it was Nichole.
And he clawed, and drooled, and licked his serpent tongue at me. So sure he had me in his reach.
And he had.
and I felt the fire. and I burned in it.
Knowing God had not let me go, but would certainly let me feel the scorch of my decision, I burned.
And Nichole's words soared in my spirit, "I know I'm gonna blister in these flames...".
I scrambled for the next words looking for the guidance of what I never fully understood until that moment,
"but I'll stay here, until this smoke clears. and I'll find You in the ashes that remain..."
So, I feared not between me and an ever Faithful, Gracious, Loving God, who provides a way out of all temptation and would certainly be found by at least the end of me.
And here I am today.
The brunt of the storm was four long days. God stood with His eyes on me, watching every burning blow... everyone of them I asked for. I sensed the coming peace as I imagined the aftermath with every sizzling branded lesson.
Strong and sure were all that withstood the surge. And strong and sure were few.
There was a washing, a clearing out of all the debris I had left lie in naivety.
It was time to see that nothing would be worth losing His promised protection, finding my refuge in the shadow of His wings. Not a peek. Not a peck. Not all the victory and glory my flesh could conjure.
And this morning my storm has finally passed.
And Groves sings, "Glory, come down, sent from Your holy place."
No more whipping winds or torrents of rain. No tirades or flying rocks. No lashings. No more days wasted wondering what would come of me, what sure would break off and need healing since I pinned on an "idiot" sign and stepped out to have a go on my own three days past.
"Come cleanse us, now. Sovereign and Holy, come make us holy.", Sara hums sweet.
The tide has receded. The gulls fly silent. The sun shines soft on my face, and peace warms the ache of all that is stripped missing.
There is a beauty in this eery quiet stillness.
As I scan across the weathered horizon I feel the heart pangs twinge at the few broken remnants of what had just stood full in my life before the storm warning.
The relief of finality far over-shadows my concern for what is lost.
And before one single broken piece of dross is overturned, a day of worship and thanks awaits, beginning with the end of Sara's song, at the end of me...
"Lord, i need You
Lord, i love You.
Thank You, Jesus..."