More than my Salvation

It's been cold and stale in this room, where those months just before You're Light filled every edge and shone about countless gifts and blessings everywhere my eyes rested. 

My season shifted, and I took the change in stride. Who gets to have You so close, so effortlessly, continuously, forever? 

I kept my eye on You. My heart ready to jump in where ever You called. I bent my knee and raised my face to the sky everyday. I spoke Truths to the little one, and I placed my prayerful hand on the rise and fall of the chest who still tries to carry all our burdens. I crossed through this house proclaiming our cover. Dry as the words were of Your power.

I waited, and I didn't fill with guilt. I know the Spirit is like the wind, and who knows when or from where it will come and go? It is not for me to say or to earn, that I shall never boast. It is You who decides.

Until last night, I only asked for You to pull me in nearer again. I'm afraid of me without your peace. It is scary- what I am incapable of without you. 
The difference between me and me with You is astounding. You carry me. You lift me up and you take me right where I need to be. 
I love that. 

And last night I begged for it. I took into consideration that You love that too, and I pleaded for the Spirit to move in me again. 

And today You drew near. In random world-filled moments You initiated, and we spoke, and I saw

And tonight, after a day with family, bonding and hand holding, gift buying and laughter, I filled my Sentsys with new fall scents, turned the lights low and sat down to some Ann. Ann, who once filled me and then months ago all at once read like a foreign language... as if the wind had blown the summer door closed. I read her weekend prayer, and You took me here... and I heard You. 

And I looked up into this kitchen, holy temple turned hospital waiting room- and this time I saw it. That warm glow. That halo around everyplace I rested my eyes, again. 
I blinked and shook my face and opened wider. I looked around to the half-grown puppy who came new during the stale dry spell, and I even saw the light around her for the first time, ever. 

My heart quickened. I read and re-read Your invitation. I traced over the lines of every welcoming word. I breathed deep the promise that such a still hollow season has passed, and I took heed that this kind of gratefulness and worship is the same as anything with You... from You. not me. 
I answer yes. Always, and You know this. My lover, my guide, my counselor, my strength... dare I mention, friend. 

I pray that this time with you, this pouring in is long and uninterrupted. 

And I will rest in You, oh God.   

song reference: audrey assad, restless


  1. This is so beautiful. Thank you for sharing!

  2. "And I will rest in You, oh God." Just beautiful, Lora!

  3. That dry spell, it seems He comes to us in a whole new way, beautiful and unexpected.

    Always love your writing.


Your kind words are a blessing to me. Thank you for taking the time to share your heart.