Gettin' there.

Photo courtesy of Pink Wallaper.

Sometimes I wish I could turn off words. Ehh, maybe just turn the facet on low.

Example 1: I can't ever scribble quick enough, and my words tumble end over end, landing in a phrase-heap that sorta-ish-almost captures my feelings. Thus the bane of my journal.

Example 2: Anyone that knows me knows my obsession with music. I can't listen to a song without analyzing the lyrics, which means, duh--I would like to talk about what the singer means. Hence I drive all my friends bananas on a weekly basis.
Example 3: Sermons. Yeah. It's unreal how God uses others to tell us His truths. And how brilliant phrasing is just right. Thank goodness for podcasts; I write slow (see Ex. 1).

This morning during my newly-christened Favorite Sermon Ever, I couldn't write fast enough. Psalms 23: We've it heard a kazillion times. But it takes something big (even just relatively), something unprecedented in life for God to then say, "Okay. Now read my words. See what I mean child?"

If "we shall not want," we know our Shepherd doesn't quit giving to us. Even in our infantile human minds when we "lack"--whether it's a house that just met the Harpeth River or fellowship with someone who meant a lot to us--mark it down that in the midst of pain, He's giving peace. In the midst of hurt he soaks us in healing.

Learning how I'm allowed, even asked, to be quiet lamb made me smile. It's okay that last week I didn't exactly conquer the world (Hello, my name is Ashlyn and I'm a recently recovered Type-A workaholic). It's okay that I just kinda just rested under God's wing. I think I'm learning to trust like I never have before. The unshakable kind. And not only that, but I'm invited (vs. 5) to a table. Hostess? Oh, just the Creator of the Universe. nbd. An invitation where the tablecloth is flecked in galaxy dust from God's fingerprints and cloth spills over the table's edges in rushing waterfalls that would pool at my feet except my toes can't touch the floor because He's so big. And He looks over at me and tells me I'm worth the invitation. That despite my stubborn little brunette head, I'm worth the sacrifice. That He's just all Love and can't help it when He's around me. Around us...

I can see a light that is coming for the heart that holds on.

There will be an end to these troubles, but until that day comes

Still I will praise you, still I will praise you.

- Matt Redman

P.S. Don't worry. I'll probably post the Church at Brookhills sermon later this week. Obsession? Yup.