of my day-ins and day-outs
are not me laying on a beach south of London.
they are me crying, gulping down my cold coffee
reading over the same lines in my Bible over & again
until i almost believe them.
they are me questioning God,
questioning my ability to hear Him,
questioning his direction over my life.
these moments are not filtered.
they are sometimes happy
but most often,
my only solace becomes the same three worship songs I always listen to
when I am in need of remembering the bigness of God
in the face of my adversity.
these moments are mine,
and you will never see them until i allow you to.
but these moments of darkness and growth
and pain and joy
and freedom
and falling
yet rising–
only to fall again–
are precious in His sight.
this is the journey of purpose.
and it's not an easy one.
this is the journey of hope,
and it is not aesthetically pleasing.
these are the moments He treasures,
where I am raw and open and vulnerable,
where i pour out till empty
and allow the melodies of heaven
to console me.
this is the me
you wont always see,
it is the one in the journey
of becoming
all that she is meant to be.
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