Here’s an exercise, if you’re willing.
Imagine a comfortable room, a quiet room. There’s a big fireplace in the room, with a roaring fire, and next to the fireplace is a big chair. A Papa chair.
Father is sitting in that chair, relaxed. His eye, with a sparkle in it, is on you. He reaches a hand out toward you.
You can curl up on his lap, if you like, and rest your head on his mighty shoulder. Or you can curl up at his feet if you prefer. But this is a good time to be quiet and to rest with him, however that works best for you.
In the silence, you can hear his heart beating gently, peacefully, strong. His hand is on the back of your head, fingers in your hair, caressing gently.
You can feel the stuff of your day drain out of you, like dirty bath water vanishing down the drain: gone, never to be seen or heard from again, and in its place, you feel the presence of peace on you, like the warmth of the crackling fire.
Be still. Shhh…. Maybe you drift off to sleep for a bit. The quiet is all around you.
After a long time, you realize it’s not quite absolutely silent; you can hear his soft, deep voice whispering your name, over and over. Do you hear him?
Then he speaks to you, quietly, his words like a warm blanket over you. That feels nice.
What do you hear him saying to you?
Sometimes my heart takes off and creates fictions regarding me and the Lord. They don't seem biblical or possible--a reach far beyond any possible grasp. So seems your narrative that added depth to existing desire.ReplyDelete