Pain, Prayer, Process, Trials, Wilderness

The Struggle

“My dear,
we are all made of water. 
it’s okay to rage. sometimes 
it’s okay to rest. to recede.”
// Sanober Khan

I am weary and heavy hearted. Strong waves pull me down underwater and I struggle to breathe. The fight inside of me rages though I beg for mercy, beg for silence. Tears stream down my face as I break, unable to contain the war within. So much pain for such a small body. 

I collapse in a grieving heap at Your feet. The only place I find comfort, the only One I know how to trust. 

“Rockabye baby come and rest
You’ve been tired lately 
Lay your head down

Don’t you think baby I know best?
I’ve been a Father for a long time.” 

Grace! I need grace for this journey. Please. 

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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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Prayer, Process, Wilderness

Cry of My Heart

“There’s a song that’s inside of my soul
It’s the one that I’ve tried to write over and over again
I’m awake in the infinite cold
But You sing to me over and over and over again

So I lay my head back down
And I lift my hands and pray
To be only Yours
I pray to be only Yours
I know now You’re my only hope

Sing to me the song of the stars
Of Your galaxies dancing and laughing and laughing again
When it feels my dreams are so far
Sing to me of the plans that You have for me over again

I give You my destiny
I’m giving You all of me
I want Your symphony singing in all that I am
At the top of my lungs
I’m giving it back

And I lay my head back down
And I lift my hands and pray
To be only Yours
I pray to be only Yours
I know now You’re my only hope”

If I must be broken, let me be broken at Your feet Jesus.

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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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