On Monday right here, I shared a passage from Psalm 103 (vv. 8-13) that has been washing me clean like fuller’s soap the last few days. (Malachi 3:2).
The words are still alive, leaping off the page, rolling around in my heart.
After I read what God had to say, I wrote some of my own thoughts in between the lines.
“The LORD is merciful and gracious,
(how can he possibly be, when I acted like that?)
slow to anger
and abounding in steadfast love.
(has plenty to spare, never runs out)
He will not always chide,
(again, unlike me)
nor will he keep his anger forever.
(oh, He is gracious!)
He does not deal with us according to our sins,
(if he did, I’d be cut off from Him forever)
nor repay us according to our iniquities.
(He doesn’t keep tabs ‘even Steven’)
For as high as the heavens are above the earth,
(incalculably, astronomically separated from one another)
so great is his steadfast love toward those who fear him;
(Father, I fear you, and I’m so very grateful for your steadfast love)
as far as the East is from the West,
(in a line encircling the globe like the Equator, never touching)
so far does he remove our transgressions from us.
As a father shows compassion to his children,
(I’ve never known a Father quite like that)
so the LORD shows compassion to those who fear him.”
(showing me mercy, sympathizing with my weakness)
After the fight (see Monday’s post above) even though I’d ‘done business’ with the Lord, repenting from my awful, hurtful words with my spouse, I still carried around the guilt of it.
I knew in my head I was forgiven. The Word said my sins were paid for, gone.
But I was hesitant to pick up my Bible or read my devotions. Everywhere I looked, there it was–God’s Word right next to the bed, on the kitchen counter, at my desk–as if to accuse me: “How can you even think about getting close to God again after the way you acted?
“Do you actually think He wants to talk to you?
You can’t go right back to God’s Word and expect He’ll speak to you….”
O H Y E S H E W I L L……
as sure as the ocean’s waves roll in day after day, He will.
How I Need You
Why would I say I need you?
Why would I say I need the pain,
the deep cuts, excising my sin?
Why would I run to you
knowing your proximity
insures my pride will be dealt with,
my self-security and shallow moorings
because without the cut
there can be no healing.
without the pain,
there can be no health
without the closeness,
I would not see that You want me whole.
Holy and whole and held,
j l c
sharing with Emily and lovely friends for Imperfect Prose
and with the the two Jennifers: