a little slam poetry in honor of HelloMornings

I went to that conference last week. And let me tell you, God faithfully went before me and deeply ministered through a number of divine appointments. It was priceless.

On Friday morning I was privileged to help lead a corporate quiet time with some of my fellow HelloMornings girls. Actually I did some preachin’ for the devotion time and then Katie led us in worship. Then at the end of our time together, I shared a poem that I had written about waking up into God’s day.

A number of girls asked if the poem was on my blog, so here it is…now on my blog. (And yes, I have my poetry voice going on. Strange.)

 

If you are having trouble viewing, click here to watch “It’s His. Not mine.”.
(Oops, I spelled “bear” as “bare.” And yes, I do wear clothes each day.)

 

It’s His. Not mine.

I wake into His day. Not mine.
He made it and holds it.
Loves it. Controls it.
Working it all towards a further unfolding
of His plan.
I’m so small in the grand scheme —
me stepping around folded clothes
and creaky stairs,
not wanting to wake little ones holding their teddy bears.
While He sits enthroned in glorious splendor.
I’m so small yet so loved.
So small yet pursued from above,
by my Maker.
Pursued. And purchased.
At a high price that I wouldn’t live
under the advice of a world that’s
confused and fearful,
desperate and tearful,
weak and scornful.
But purchased with crimson that little me
would have redemption.
Set free to be a giver of love,
a pourer of grace,
a receiver of mercy,
a stander in faith.
Free.
So I sit in my morning chair.
Breathing a few moments of quiet air.
Drinking His living water that my soul
would joyfully bear today.
It’s His.
Not mine.

 

You know, I don’t have a quiet time in order to look super spiritual or to gain some righteous status with God. Because truly, we gain every ounce of righteousness we could ever possess simply by faith in Jesus. I spend time with God before my day begins because I’m needy. I’m desperate for His guidance.

In that early morning chair, as I set my face towards His and lay all my mess at His feet, He meets with me. He soothes the wounds and mends broken places. He brings me to tears with His kindness and makes His truths jump off the pages to pierce my soul.

Time set aside to be with Him isn’t legalism — or at least it shouldn’t be. It’s life to us. It’s communing and relationship and love. It’s how I start today. His day — I’m just waking up into it.

 
Fill me, Lord…

What are your biggest distractions time alone with Him?
How does time alone with God bless your own spirit?