Hey y’all! We just hit the halfway point of The Race! You have been such precious prayer warriors and encouragers throughout this trip. We head to Malaysia tomorrow! Here is a poem I have not yet made public.
“Write what you want to remember.” That quote from dear Jillian was so profound. I just met another precious Jillian here in Vietnam (another poet) who said to go for it on posting this poem. God wrote it. I got to be there for His words. It is fitting for right now. So, to my two Jillian’s (who need to meet each other) and all of you, my support family, here you go…
(Photo credit: Leah Vogel) Remembering His water never runs dry.
God is in the small things, as much as in the big.
He leads us by still waters, but only we can take the swig.
His hand is always steady, His heart is always wise.
He tends to our own woundings, and with the same hand tears down any guise.
His touch is firm but gentle, He keeps us safe, yet exposed,
For it is only in these trials that we can bear the cross He chose.
Joy comes in the morning, pain lasts only a night.
It is in this seesaw of tension that we continue in His fight.
To see Him, know Him, be Him, we all say that’s what we desire,
But God, the great I AM, came to us in lowly attire.
That is where He calls us. That is the price we pay.
For in His understanding, He calls us solely to understand His way.
It’s not about being perfect. Not about being seen.
Those things are idols we set up. Only in Him does our pathway gleam.
We may not be ready for where He’s calling. How do we get where we’ve never been?
His promise is He directs our steps. His ways are way above men’s.
His eyes are on our hearts, and we can trust Him to bend low.
For only one so sure will whisper into our soul,
“My child, you are Mine. I walk with you each day.
You will get to where I am sending. I am with you along the way.
You see things that are hard and things that don’t make sense,
Yet even in, and because of this, I am there to change your lens.
Nothing, not a thing, can happen without me there.
Even the parts that are unjust are being used to tear down and repair.
And then there are the joys, those things that cause you to dance.
Just know that in both of these, I am still there holding your hand.
For I get you with a passion, I get you at every turn,
And I see the things you long for, I feel for the things you yearn.
Your prayers are heard and answered, even before you have a clue.
In each and every prayer, I am thinking of my glory and what’s best for you.
And so on that note, my child, finish and let go.
Because even if ‘they’ hate this poem, I am in love with you, the poet.
Nothing can take that from you, I’m with you ’til the end.
And when I write that, my darling, you can trust the one holding the pen.
So we’ll sign off together, the poet and the muse,
“Which is which?” is what you are hoping to be constantly confused.
I in you and you in me, hidden and redeemed,
Take that swig, my dear one, for all and nothing to be as it seems.”
~Julia
(Photo credit: Amber Hershberger)
