Sweet Reward

These days are good, when I remember where I've been. These days are good when I don't. These days are a reward for having laid an offering of wee ones before you, helpless to nurture what I could not comprehend. Somehow, they fly. It is a miracle that you use the helpless to raise the helpless, but it is part of your design, and it is perfect. When now I begin to see the spark of what they are to become, what a joy. It is not for me to receive any praise or due, because I was the helpless and you were the helper. How many times I cried in not knowing. How many times I cried for you to take me away from this task you bestowed. I knew I could not go on. You knew I could. Thank you for receiving my offering to you. Thank you for multiplying it and making it something that may feed the many. Thank you for my children, how blessed I am to have been molded by you through their little hands.

Psalm 127:3 Behold, children are a heritage from the Lord,
the fruit of the womb a reward.

Overdue... a prayer

Longing, I am longing to be real with you to you today. Lord, I have hidden from this keyboard. I ponder the whys and wonder if in some way I may be hiding from some "thing" that you want to speak to me. The act of hiding from truth is a dangerous affair, leading to no good thing. It's core is unbelief, questioning of the goodness of the Holy. Perhaps, I'm hiding from the looking. Writing probes the heart in some way, that is unexplainable. I see what I could not see and maybe what I don't want to see. A mirror or magnifyer, either, revealing things You need for me to see. So, here I am, a tad reluctant, but asking to see. What is it Lord, that is askew? Show me where I'm missing the mark. I'm not to fear, you are slow to anger, and quick to listen, as I'm to be. You flood my heart with Grace, love, peace, your nearness is my good. You gently show me how I can be right, like You. It's in the blood, it is the scarlet that makes white, brings light to darkness, removes all need and want of hiding. Oh the blood of Jesus, that washes white as snow.