***It's Friday again. A day where I gather with bravery and courage and write along side my soul sisters. No editing (okay maybe just a bit for spelling), no worrying, just writing and laying bare our hearts for five minutes - To read more bravery head on over to Lisa-Jo Baker's and be blessed***
It was a woman at the well moment. A moment of coming face to face with my Beloved and feeling nothing but love and peace and holiness surround and come around and wrap me in comfort and confidence.
I had just finished something ordinary: mopping the floor. It’s Thursday night, the scheduled housecleaning night. I had mopped myself right to the doorway of my office. And, I have been feeling restless all day, restless in my spirit, a waiting, an anticipation and a burning swirling and building.
I’ve decided this year to be intentional about Lent. I’ve never ventured here before. Never dared to walk this path, and I’m still not sure I have the courage and part of me knows that this will hurt and cut. It will cut deep, and swift and sure like a surgeon’s knife cutting away bad flesh. And I can feel all of this churning and changing as I strip myself bare to become like Him, my Beloved. Become lower and lower still as I sip from the living water that He offers me.
The floor is streaked with wet and the smell of soothing lavender fills the air as I give in to the restless. I just.give.in.
I’m listening to being a friend of Jesus, listening about laying down sins and grief and being able to bring and lay at my Beloved’s feet every burden, every thought. And I’m reading Ann’s blog about being broken and busted right up and battered and scarred and that He still whispers my name despite all of the ugly.
And the tears they come unexpectedly, and I can feel them cooling on my cheek as I give in to Christ. Give into that moment with my Beloved. All of the tension, all of the churning, the restless stills when I feel His hand on the waters of my soul and hear Him whisper “Beloved, be still.”
I still, and while sitting in my chair with my palms turned upward and tears leaving tracks I allow myself to be loved by my Beloved.
I am my Beloved’s and He is mine.