Consecration, Destiny, Musings, Pain, Process, Trials, Wilderness

The Wayward Dancer

Here. Here am I in my entirety, the fullness of my contradiction in my body entirely, the beauty of affliction in my members for what seems like an eternity. What about me and my affliction causes me to call it beauty? I am an enigma to the worlds society; condemned by one, redeemed by another. Through the hail and the storm my body pushes on, not of its own accord but because of what my hope is leant on. I am not my own yet here am I, The Wayward Dancer. Here am I with this sinful cancer, it breathes, it bleeds, it spreads, but only when my eyes are on its master. To turn from my afflicted norm, to deny myself and push through the storm… is what some call suicide, to coincide with the reasoning of flesh and desires of a dead man gone.

But this I will decide. Each and every day of my last and never longing breath, to pick up my past and cast it aside for it is trash – it is the dead man. What I have done and where I have gone does not effect the transgression that is my beautiful affliction. And now to give answer to my self proclaimed title and to my Hope that does not tarry nor wander as my soul might search the sea and it’s ever desiring depths.

I am a man living not of my own accord. A will I have, but have laid it down, this I did today, just this past Morn. Yet again I shall choose, and yet again shall I deny my flesh so that I do not succumb to the numb that eats away. I shall put off self and be clothed in light. I shall walk the treacherous path and with feet soaked in blood I will walk. My road is not an easy one and though I look like one with a debt to death and suicide, I am not and I have none. No debt except to the One who lived and died and rose again.

I am not my own save the day I choose to be. I have surrendered all but my name to Thee who died for me. “He Giveth and He Taketh away.” Or so some say. Yet, are not all His to give and to take as He pleases? A sense of entitlement is quickly squashed as one wanders further down this track of enquirement.

As I meander, as I stride, as I climb, as I suffer, as I run, as I walk, as I scream and yell and tear my way through this dream that breathes in glory inspired by love, I find myself in a place of anxiousness and peace.

Peace because I know this universal expanse is not at my disposal to command or dictate, so my fate is safe not with me but my Lover. And anxious because I am finite and know not always whether I should have turned to the left when I turned to the right or if I should have turned to the right when I turned to the left.

My heart aches but it is being restored. I am new, I am whole. I am noone’s but only one does truly know me.

He knows. He sees. He loves.

On these things I stake my life and my plea.

Oh Father would You meet with me..

Daniel Moreira

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Bridal Paradigm, Intimacy, Longing, Love, Musings, The Church

Romance, Part of a Bigger Tapestry

This week I am diving deep into the Song of Solomon. I love seeing the heart of God revealed between the two lovers.

I once asked myself, “Why romance? Why marriage? Why is it necessary?” I’ve since realized my answer. Romance is part of a bigger tapestry. It reveals a glimpse of the bigger love story we are caught up in, one that shouts all across the universe, and one sometimes so incomprehensible that we cannot understand it unless it is revealed to us in the more obvious details of everyday life. And that is where romance and relationship comes in. The heart of it all is the same. Human love reflects divine love. The heart’s response to affection reflects the design that we were created for a bigger love. How a man pursues reveals how God pursues. How a woman’s beauty captivates reveals the nature of His beauty to draw us in. Sacrifice and compromise and fighting for love reveal to us the underlying undying nature of perfected love – a love that lasts. Perhaps romance and, eventually, mature love, is the greatest gift He gives to us to help us understand His love for us – and to understand how we are to respond to such a love.

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Bridal Paradigm, Intimacy

This is my Beloved, this is my Friend

My beloved is fairer and none can compare
He’s beauty, He stands alone
And His brightness is blinding, He is outshining
The glory of the sun above

Beautiful savior
Precious Lamb of God
Wonderful Jesus
My dear One, whom I love

You are worth far more than I could ever give
My love I give to You
Let my life be like a sweet fragrance
Fully pleasing before You

Lovely, excellent, dazzling
Chief among ten thousand.

My beloved is white and ruddy,
Chief among ten thousand.
His head is like the finest gold;
His locks are wavy, and black as a raven.
His eyes are like doves by the rivers of waters,
Washed with milk, and fitly set.
His cheeks are like a bed of spices, banks of scented herbs.
His lips are lilies, dripping liquid myrrh.
His hands are rods of gold set with beryl.
His body is carved ivory Inlaid with sapphires.
His legs are pillars of marble set on bases of fine gold.
His countenance is like Lebanon, excellent as the cedars.
His mouth is most sweet,
Yes, he is altogether lovely.
This is my beloved,
And this is my friend,
O daughters of Jerusalem! (‭Song of Solomon‬ ‭5‬:‭10-16‬ NKJV)

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Grace, Intimacy, Prayer

Receive Me Even In My Weakness

My heart is weak in the sense that I am weak and frail flesh. My prayers are weak and small, my supplications; faint and at times, incoherent even. In moments like these, I am prone to condemn myself and believe that my weak comings and goings before the Throne make no difference, that I am unheard and unseen. I hide my head in shame because of my weakness. It is easy to believe that I am pleasing to Him when my soul is ablaze with passion. It is easy to believe also that I am unworthy of Him when my soul is faint with burden and heavy with the cloak of dullness. I think to myself, “Surely He, someOne so beautiful, is deserving of a better love! What does He want with me when I am weak?”

But far is that from the truth. He hears the weak breath of a babe as much as He hears the eloquent prayers of fervent saints. He beckons me to boldly come, even in my weakness. Even when I have nothing to offer but pitiful cries, He wants me to come. I do not understand this, but I am glad for it. If it depended on me and my risings and fallings, I could never hope to draw close to God. But as it is, He beckons me to draw close, not because of who I am but because of who He is. I am not constant, but He is. I am weak, but He is glad to receive me even in my weakness.

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Intimacy, Longing, Musings, The Church

Are We Too Bored?

How precious is your steadfast love, O God! The children of mankind take refuge in the shadow of your wings. They feast on the abundance of your house, and you give them drink from the river of your delights. For with you is the fountain of life; in your light do we see light. (‭Psalm‬ ‭36‬:‭7-9‬ ESV)

An abundant feast? A river of delight? That sounds amazing to me! I don’t know about you but I sure would love to drink from a river of delights ….

Have we been way too bored with God? Why the dullness? Why the complacency? Why the halfheartedness? Why the slumber and why the apathy?

I honestly think we have been settling for far too little for far too long.

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Intimacy, Wilderness

I Am So In Need

A while back, I prayed for God to strip me and break me. Little did I know what I was asking for! There was a time when I was so puffed up and so full of myself. I thought I could earn His love. I thought I could work my way into His favor. I actually thought I had something to show of myself before Him. Gladly did He rush in to correct me and strip me of my self-sufficiency.

More than ever I am seeing how weak I am. I cannot walk this narrow road well by myself. My heart says yes and I am so in love, but my flesh is so frail. My heart is small, and so incapable of holding firm to any resolve. It does not help that the pretty things of this world loom at me from all directions, threatening to pull my heart away from the One I love. 

I cannot count how many times I have stumbled. I fall, and I come back. I fall again, and I come back again. One moment my heart surges with passion, the next moment I am blinded by dullness. I hate it! I hate the weak frame of my humanity. 

Yet in the light of my weakness, I am seeing how much more He is able to keep me. Today I was worshipping on the piano and this truth struck me so hard. His ability to keep me is greater than my inability to follow. His commitment to me is greater than my commitment to Him. He wants me more than I want Him. He is more faithful than I think. 

We don’t have anything to boast for before Him. Not our passion (for emotions rise and fall). Not our love (for it is small and weak). Not our grand works (for they are filthy rags). Nothing. We have nothing to offer Him but our weak “yes”. We can do nothing but cling. 

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