Lest I stumble

Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from Your presence? If I go up to the heavens, You are there; if I make my bed in the depths, You are there. If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, even there Your hand will guide me, Your right hand will hold me fast. Psalm 139:7-10

Where were You in the midst of this week?

Besides in the billowing sunrises, I mean.

So seldom do I know the rest of the story.  I am locked into my one small jigsaw puzzle piece of a cell, looking out through the bars. 

How can I smash through the prison cell? That keeps me from the wide-open spaces of Your Spirit?  

My child, my heart is grieved as you throw yourself against the walls, again and again, broken and bruised.  The key is in door, waiting to be turned.  

The key?  Where, where?  I don’t see it.

The key is love.  Of course, it’s the Sunday School answer.  But perfect love casts out fear.  This is what is True.  Even the small child knows this.  Especially the small child, taking the big leap into my arms with joy and excitement and no hesitation.  

My love is the key.  not you loving other people.  working a little harder, faster and better.  but accepting my unconditional love.  You are afraid of My love. it is so big, so sweeping, so crashing down every barrier of reason and logic and history.  And fear.  

Are you willing?

To the depths? To plunge yourself into its icy refreshment?   I am not safe.  but I am good.  I am.

Where can I flee?  Or cower in the moldy corner?  You are in the depths.  On the far side of the sea.  Holding out your right hand.  

And perhaps, in the same fogged and faltering understanding of my father reaching out his hand to me to guide him across the chipped red painted stepping stones which lead to the unlocked door, I reach out my hand to you.  The grip is strong and true.  Holding fast.