You, blank screen, are a mystery tonight.
First day back teaching. I didn't sleep much last night.
Reading the night before: "In nothing be anxious." Why is this so hard for me, Lord? Forgive me my doubt. Let me know with my bones that you hold not only enough, but more than enough (the gooseberry bush with the overripe berries left over after picking and picking and picking.)
I am willing (vulnerable enough) to release the terror grip around the locked heart of my mouth to receive the words I struggle to say to those I love so much. Instead, let me hear THEM. Those that speak around me, to me.
Give Me everything you have, and I will do the rest.
(old wounds resurface in front of others speaking in a group terror that I have overcome by asking Him to get me out of my way and I wrestle it down instead of letting it go mistaking its intentions relax and let it breathe a count down back to one: I believe and know you can do it. The faith of a friend.)
I want to erase this post. But I won't because it doesn't want to be perfect.
Give me a spirit primed to receive all things as You will them. Take this anxiety, deadly weed wound around the heart's mouth. I am made of what I was willing to receive. Let me never turn You away.
You're trying too hard...trying too hard. It's not even up to you. Give it up, sister.
Today was stunning. More than I could have asked.