The Meeting by Peter Young

My Heart ignites, leaps, both prey and beast as she enters the room; sweeping waves of joy and craving are centered on her, beneath The Seeing Eye.

My Eyes, impressed, reply to every detail, seeing the world, her single form of visual explosion. Such beauty, deilcacy, shape, grace- Will they ever recover?- beneath The Seeing Eye.

My Ears resound, shaken, moved by silence and symphony as she moves through space. I am sense, receiving every part of her, recording this moment alone, beneath The Seeing Eye.

My Mind anticipates her approach, alerted, focused and spinning as she challenges the mazes of my soul. I submit to an intimacy never known before, but desired beneath The Seeing Eye.

My Hands, touched and touching, a vision of thier own, caress a softness they've yearned for, graze a delicateness, fondle the parts of passion, stroking with hunger, appetite beneath The Seeing Eye.

I must breathe- What! a fragrance, redolence, an aromatic universe hypnotizes me, mesmerizes, swimming in scent, sensual and arousing, and a colliding of it all beneath The Seeing Eye.

And in His Seeing, He enjoys us, relishes the reflection of Love, Him, knowing what He has always known about the excruciating beauty of us.

Confessions

In just a few months, I will be getting married. This man that God has brought into my life will take my hand and I will take his name. My grateful heart feels the exquisite joy of such a precious gift, this godly man who continuously adores me and tenderly cares for me, the overflowing love I am abundantly free to feel and show. I want to spend my life growing with him, cultivating our love, excluding anything that tries to come between us, and learning everyday the new wonders that consummate love can bring.

There’s a deep fear in my heart, a feeling of inadequacy rising up and squeezing my throat. I wonder if I can love him like he deserves, if when things get tough, I will make the choice to honor him anyway. I’m afraid that my selfishness will take over, that I’ll hold on to old habits, rolling my eyes at annoyances, disregarding his feelings. I’m afraid that I will fail him, and myself by allowing destructive voices to speak, by giving room to negativity.

I’m terrified that unspoken words will gain power and begin to erode what I so desperately want to protect. That resentments will build, that scripts from our pasts will demand rehearsal. I’m afraid that I’m not good enough, not whole enough to be all I want to be. That I will damage him by making petty complaints to friends, or slight him with careless humor, or push him away with the protective walls I’ve worked so hard to tear down. I don’t want to fail here. I don’t want to ruin this.

God whispers to me, telling me that perfect love casts out fear. That this love He has given is patient and kind and healing. That His never failing strength is made perfect in my always present weakness. That He has me safe and secure in His arms and that nothing can separate me from His love. He tells me that He is bigger than my fears.

But I know my past, and I know that my new husband and I will make mistakes. I know that we will fail each other. And what I fear is that we will allow those failures to erode the priceless intimacy we have created.

We’ve found such acceptance in each other’s arms, such honesty and love. We have witnessed each other’s struggles with these human bonds, with scars and wounds that want attention. We have heard the stories of betrayals and heartaches from our pasts. And yet, we’ve been given this time where positive illusions have wrapped us in a cocoon of safety. We have listened attentively and felt the inexplicable sorrow of one another. Validation has been offered with passionate gifts of connection and the joy and vulnerability of being known so fully.

What happens if that stops? What happens when the betrayals are to one another and the heartaches are crashing in our safe place? What happens when we’re too busy to hear, to see? When daily life whittles down the energy it takes to love attentively?

Is it possible to preserve what we’ve found, to continue welcoming God between us in prayer and worship so that He can hold us in the safety of His abiding love? Are we capable of stepping back when things get rough and making conscious choices to love anyway? To accept in spite of the disappointments? To honor regardless of frustration? To offer ourselves no matter the risks, to love no matter the costs?

I stand before my God, witnessing the infinite glory of His purity and holiness, the shining beauty of His majestic being. I stand before Him breathless, awestruck by His blinding righteousness, His consuming power, His encompassing presence. My omniscient God, my ever-present Father, the Almighty Creator looks directly at me and knows.

I crumble at His feet, ashamed and disgusted. He knows my heart, every thought, vile and wicked, every action, desperate and dirty. He sees everything I’ve tried to hide, every fallen choice that has damaged, every decision that has desecrated. His eyes penetrate and the utter shame I’m faced with consumes me. My trembling hands cover my face as my head bows to the ground, desiring to disappear, to hide my humiliation. My knees buckle with the grief of my failure, the complete recognition of the darkness, the dirtiness of who I am. Fingers grasp my hair, pulling, fists slam my chest, beating, tears fall down my face, mourning. I despise the sinfulness I cannot deny, the blackness that oozes from my pores. I am nothing. I am worse than nothing as I lie broken before my Holy God.

I cower beneath the tender touch that suddenly appears from behind me, nail-scarred hands grasping my arms, pulling me into His embrace. Undeserving and unworthy, a part of me wants to resist this excruciating love. I feel the solidness of His chest as He wraps Himself around my brokenness. The warmth of His adoration comforts my shaken, frightened heart. His robes enfold me, covering my exposed sin, sheltering my stained soul, healing my scorched flesh. I feel His lips brush my cheeks, wiping the tears from my face as He whispers grace over me.

“I’ve got you.” My muscles instantly release the tension and shame. The strength of His voice permeates and banishes the darkness. “You are mine, Beloved.” His words illuminate the purity He offers me, the cleansing power of His blood infusing my soul. Comfort engulfs my spirit, soothing every fear. The demands of doubt and shame cannot form words any longer. Efforts made to pronounce my self hate are swallowed up in His beauty. Arguments lost the ability to be voiced with the Master’s gentle touch.

I kneel before my God, held up by the arms of my Savior. Looking in His glorious face, I see His knowing eyes once again. This time I take in His whole, radiant face, and am in awe of the smile beginning to spread. His wisdom shines. He knows my struggle. Oh, He sees it all, the weight of shame that collapses, the totality of grief that envelops, and the finality of His Son’s sacrifice that annihilates the darkness. Love, pierces through humanity and fills the atmosphere with healing grace.

I stand before my God, made whole by the precious blood of Jesus, by His gift of righteousness, by salvation’s grace filled plan.
I am His Beloved.
And He is mine.

Don't Stop Pursuing

9-18-11
God is calling to me today. He wants to come in to the deepest hurts. He wants to embrace the things I hide, to bring to life things that were dead. I’ve told him no all morning.

“Yes, I love you, but I don’t want this. Yes, I want you, but not in there.”
It is the hidden hurt that I wasn’t loved. It is the dead hopes that anyone could.

“I don’t know how to explore this, God. You pursue. I feel the depth of you calling me Beloved, knocking at my window, inviting me into your perfect love. But the fear of experiencing those emotions holds me back. Is this where your journey of forgiveness is traveling? I don’t want that. But you continue to call with your generous love.”

Song of Songs 1:6b My mother’s sons were angry with me
and made me take care of the vineyards; my own vineyard I had to neglect.
Others around me were angry and chose to force me to take care of them and their shame. I neglected myself. I let them convince me that my flaws were deep and that I had to accept responsibility for it all. I didn’t protect myself. I struggled picking up their burdens and carrying them on my weary back.

Song of Songs 2:2 Like a lily among thorns is my darling among the young women.
But the truth is, I am cherished above others. God speaks to me because I am His Beloved. I am chosen. I am treasured. I am loved. Shame does not belong on this heart. Jesus destroyed shame for me and poured grace over me. People in my past, who allowed their own wounds to rule their choices, who were soaked in their own ugly shame, too big to take, and who made those cruel, surviving decision… were wrong. I am a lily among thorns.

Song of Songs 2:4 Let him lead me to the banquet hall, and let his banner over me be love.
In response to His adoration, I willingly open myself to his leading, dancing under His loving eye. I spin with delight at the burdens lifted off my back. I twirl and jump with the freedom of His salvation. I feast at the table lavishly set for me. I close my eyes and breathe in the declarations He speaks. I am his and his banner over me is love.

Song of Songs 2:8-13 Listen! My beloved! Look! Here he comes, leaping across the mountains, bounding over the hills. My beloved is like a gazelle or a young stag. Look! There he stands behind our wall, gazing through the windows,
peering through the lattice. My beloved spoke and said to me, “Arise, my darling, my beautiful one, come with me. See! The winter is past; the rains are over and gone. Flowers appear on the earth; the season of singing has come, the cooing of doves is heard in our land. The fig tree forms its early fruit; the blossoming vines spread their fragrance. Arise, come, my darling; my beautiful one, come with me.”
He is calling to me, “Arise, Come.” Winter, the time of grief, hurt, and loneliness is past. He has broken down the walls of my guarded heart. His hands have reached in a healed years of pain and heartbreak. I am alone no longer. I am burdened no more. The time of singing and joy is here. Satisfaction, nourishment, growth is waiting. Flowers of love are blooming around me, spreading fragrance so intoxicating. Warm breezes comfort me and the sunshine pours it‘s glories on my head. He is here to love me. He is calling my name. “Arise, Come.”

Song of Songs 2:14-15 My dove in the clefts of the rock, in the hiding places on the mountainside, show me your face, let me hear your voice; for your voice is sweet, and your face is lovely. Catch for us the foxes, the little foxes that ruin the vineyards, our vineyards that are in bloom.
“Show me your face. No more hiding. Let me embrace you. It is time that your heart feels the full beauty of being loved.”

I’m told that it will happen, that I will see God. Sitting on the grass this morning, outside of the church building where people were listening and worshipping, I did see Him. Between the thin pages of my Bible, in the Song of Songs, I heard His love.
And as much as the morning’s calling rings purely in my heart, I still reply, “I don’t want it.” I don’t even know if I am capable of finding and uncovering such death and hurt. “I hear you speaking, it is you that will reveal, it is you that quickens, it is you that heals. Give me the space, Lord. Surround me with the safety I desire when you do your work. I don’t want this, but I choose to say yes now, knowing that I will say no again and again, and asking you, trusting you to do what you will.”

Where is God?

“Do you feel God?”
“No.” She whispered quietly.
“Do you want me to tell you where He is?” My body cradled her, my hand rubbing her arm. I held my hand out in front of her and wiggled my fingers just slightly. “He’s right here.” I whispered excitedly, with childlike awe at this incredible truth. “He’s right here.” I told her, wanting her to feel the joy along with me. “Do you understand?” I asked.
She shook her head no.
“His Spirit is in me. He’s right here, in me. God sent you me.” Tears began to roll with my humility and gratefulness that God would allow me to honor and adore my child in such a way. Tears gathered and spilled over as understanding dawned for her.
“He sent you Nick. He sent you Jordan. And Merridee. He sent you me.”
She heard me. She understood.
“You know in those dark times when I couldn’t feel God," I started. "Do you know where He was?”
I held up her hand, pointing at the small, delicate fingers. “He was right here. He was in my children; you, and Nick, and Jordan.”
Oh Jesus, you were right there, with tiny smiles that filled my heart, you were in those sweet, little hands patting my arm. You were right there in their beautiful voices calling “Mommy.”
Thank you.

Where is God when you are alone? When you’re lying in the back seat of your car, crippled by the heartbreaking disappointments of being alive? When there are no hands to cover yours, no voices to speak comfort?
He is in the breeze that lifts the heaviness of air.
He is in the tear that traces down your cheek.
He is standing beside you, weeping with your pain.
He is here.
He is here.

Even When There's Pain in the Offering

Lord, what do I do? Why did I get this information? This one, unexpected phone call has created so much turmoil, anger, hurt, and fear. The reminder of manipulations, the devastation at new lies discovered, the foolishness I feel, the insecurity and safety removed once again. What did I do to be so disrespected, treated so unimportantly?

I see the churning that’s happening in me and can even understand that anything that comes along and softens the soil ultimately means growth is coming. I believe part of that growth is in the space of my relationship; the leading, the following, the dependence and open hearts towards you. I believe even the perception of my pain is part of the growth. He loves me in a healing way. You have given me this. Opportunity is here for acceptance of such healing love and I am grateful for that.

So my question now is, what do I do with this story? Do I let it go? Do I take it to the source? I believe we both heard your guidance that day in the idea that this is a journey of forgiveness. It’s what I want. The release of your pure forgiveness. A part of me wanted the right to be angry, wanted to hold on to hate, wanted the old protections those feelings afforded me. But the healing of forgiveness that you have showed me in the past, and the healing of love that you are showing me now is much more inviting.

He quotes 1 Corinthians 13, how love endures, bears, hopes, and I hear leading from him to love, I feel the leading from you to share that love. It is your grace that freely pours that love on the undeserving. I want to be a part of that flowing glory. Just a few days ago, with my world rocked by revelations I wasn’t prepared for, I felt pride lead me to thoughts of revenge and hurt lead me to anger and desires to strike back. You spoke to me through love and led me here to the beginnings of grace.

If this is an opportunity to show your beautiful spirit, your powerful love, then I am willing. I stand with your servants proclaiming, “Here am I, send me.” Use me to offer mercy. Guide me in whatever path will bring people closer to your light. Allow me to be your embrace and acceptance. Jeremiah 31:31-34 spoke to us this morning, that we belong to you, that you have made a way for all of us. Let me proclaim your message. To all of us who stand unworthy, broken, scarred by our mistakes, use me God, to honor your gift of love beyond words, to offer the truth that sets us free.