These writings are for the imperfect person searching for more of the Perfect God.

Friday, January 12, 2018

Dear God

Dear God,

It’s been said my decisions of today dictate my future of tomorrow.


It’s no wonder I can so easily find myself paralyzed by fear. And frozen by anxiety.  And fastened by worry.  And immobilized by panic.  

Because the shifting weight of being Mama, of being wife, of being daughter, of being friend, of being-- shuffles me to and fro, back and forth, up and down, in and out; often away from You and towards fretting, fumbling, forgetting that You, Father, are my Master Architect.  A Qualified Builder with an unaltered blue print, with an unvarying plumb line, with an unfailing design.

Your objective can never be changed (Isaiah 14.27)
Your purpose can not be restrained (Job 42.2)
Your plans will always prevail (Proverbs 19.21)
Your intentions succeed above my own (Proverbs 21.30)

But the college choice must be made.

And the medical decision must be decided.

And the finacial plan must be determined.

And the friendship, the marriage, the relationship must be healed.

"I know," I hear you tenderly whisper into the unquieted, uncertain and undone spaces of this heart. 

And as you intimately sow into the deepest darkest needy places of the soul, it's here in the musts-of-life, You become my Blameless Builder, my Matchless Maker, my Faultless Father, my Compassionate Compass who has a plan that can and will not be thwarted, prevented or obstructed.

But, God, what about tomorrow's decisions; and not to mention those past and recent choices.  You know the ones.  The foolish ones.  The failed ones.  The flunked ones.  The faulty ones.  The faithless ones.  The fear-based ones.  What about those Father; even those?

And just as Your unmistakeable presence breaths fresh air into these overworked lungs, I hear you sweetly and ever-so gently share the secret, "Keep Your heart, Joyelle, fixed on me." 

And so I’m fixing Father.  I'm fixing on You; knowing while I’m messing up, screwing up, tripping up;  You're clearing up, straightening up, picking up. 

Because, fixing my heart on You, Jesus, there is nothing left undone.  Nothing left unsaid.  Nothing left unfinished.  Nothing left unperformed, unconsumed, unaccomplished, uncompleted.  


You are the Beginning and the End.
The Alpha and the Omega.
The First and the last.
The Keeper and the Creator.
The Author and the Architect.
The Counselor and the Physician.
The Father and the Friend.
The Anchor and the Hope.
The Comforter and the Healer.

Who is and who was and who is to come.

So it's here with you, God, cuddled up and positioned with my head on Your chest, listening actively for every faint whisper of Your voice.  A sweet sound repeating, "If you let Me lead, if you let Me Love, if you let Me live in the former ruins of your heart, I will undoubtedly "cause everything to work together for your good."  Because rest reigns here.

All my love Father, Joy

"You may roll the dice, but I alone determine how they fall."
Proverbs 16.33