God’s voice is a soft whisper.
A quiet knowing.
But my refusal to listen is loud in my head. I try to ignore that tug, that call to sacrifice. I want comfort and ease.
Don’t ask me to give up, to step out.
His voice may be quiet, but my disobedience is a freight train.
And I know in my heart,
I must put aside self.
Embrace what he asks of me.
Sacrifice, beautiful yet, costly.
Sweet yet, so hard.
But then his blessing comes
on my heart.
And I know that quietness within.
The loud clanging of self has tapered off.
Oh how it fills.
Blessed assurance of being right where he wants me, sure in step, solid knowing gives me rest.
Was it really a sacrifice?
But his reward runs deep,
rich with love overflowing.
“Around here we write for five minutes flat on Fridays. We finger paint with words. We try to remember what it was like to just write without worrying if it’s just right or not.” ~ the gypsy mama