Falling Up

In the midst of feeling God’s peace and His presence, I recognize His wildness. His comfort comes in the form of His Word, which He Himself describes as a sword. His peace, while perfect, comes at great expense to stability. His own Son was sheltered in a dirty, uncomfortable stable.

When I go to Him for comfort, I find a rock. When I want to be gently held, instead He enters into my storm.

I cry out for His presence. Over and over. I can trust myself with Him, because His tumultuous love allures me. I am never more steady than when I am abandoned completely in His unrestraint. The footprints I see in my life are not found on a gentle beach, but instead on a rocky precipice. When He tells me that He’s holding me, it’s not only in the hard times of my life, but at all times. I see the cavernous canyon below, and at times I feel I’m dangerously close to falling. I feel too close to the edge, too loose in His grasp. I surrender.

This is a poem I wrote about the fine line between my complete trust in Him, and my complete fear of being so out of control. I wrote it for a friend, but it is always for me, too.

Your love is dangerous, Lord
It’s wild and it’s raw
I want comfort but
You offer me a sword

The shelter you give is a stable
Cold and insecure
I just want to feel your peace
But your peace is so unsure

Your kindness harsh
Your ways a mystery to my soul
I am broken pieces that desire
To be whole

I’m overcome and I’m undone
I drink your bitter cup
I know I’m falling Lord so please
Keep me falling up

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