I thought my feet were planted flat on the ground.
But when I check–roll around on the balls; spread toes to earth–I see I’ve been leaning too far to one side.
And so I reach, with the center of me; open my heart and rock back and forth until I find solid ground.
I am a tree planted by streams of Living Water. Roots hold firm, silently extending down–drinking up depths and nourishment, anchoring me here…with Him.
I stretch branches up and rough bark becomes supple, velvet with moss…I invite Him in and feel Him pass through leaves; rustle places long asleep–making music where there is none; creating beauty out of light.
In this quiet I hear His voice. What others intend to empty, He fills.
I am yours.
Soft, like breeze caress the words move over me.
El Roi…You see me. You know my heart.
Eyes close but His never do.
El Shaddai…All sufficient One. You fill.
He washes me–laps up against my soiled heart and carries away the dirt.
Jehovah Rapha…Healer. You tend to deeply wounded places.
I am whole.
It continues on, as I move limbs–bend and sway to His music. Leaves lift, wave in joyous surrender as we dance.
I am more than bark and leaves…heart beats loud within this forest. His Spirit lives in me.
Sap oozes and the sweetness of His love drips from my pores.
He is here beside me; I see Him better with my heart–eyes closed to world, hands held loosely open.
I do not clutch these things tightly…but wrap my life around Him. Vines entwine, whisper into crevices, knotty limbs embrace…
This is the way I grow.