Dancing with my heart, my words, my song, and my love, before my God…

But let all who take refuge in you be glad; let them ever sing for joy. Spread your protection over them, that those who
LOVE YOUR NAME may rejoice in you. Psalms 5:11

Sunday, February 19, 2017

Our Secret Place

The thrill of anticipation, oh Master... my Jesus. Touching into just a nibble as Your Presence begins to fill the atmosphere in which I breath.   I'm in that beginning Poppa, where I'm still wondering what will I say to You. What will I do? Actually, I know this all seems unimportant once the connection takes me away from my mind's demand for understanding.   But soon, as anyone so in love knows, the actual Touch has the heart carefully trembling. Peace, the sacred feel that is exempt of struggle, and yet it pleases the heart with deep wells of desires, fills my face with an expression. For I must meet Love with sincerity, honesty of who I am, so I do not deceive myself but receive the Beauty of a love connection.  Encountering Real... His Real and my real. I so want to have this secret with Him. Our Secret Place.

For there, my love blooms into new attire. New ring upon my finger as I accept the sweet gifts of Song circling about my weakness. Taking me, to believe and trust where His Eyes look upon me, is just what He wanted.  And the silence draws me to such a Holy, I become it's silence also. No longer can be touched by another's defining. I have been won to Him and I would surrender anything. I have now entered a glorious phase where I could ask anything, for Love controls. Love is a miracle, a miracle the heart reaches to watch and consume each second as the delicate luxurious gift it is. Our Secret Place.

Roaming within this endless visual is the crowd of all those in such Love. For only this sort of swelling encounter can add yet another mention of His sweet Name. Cripples, blind, deaf, dumb... there is no lock out or rule that one must be without blemish. The Call is to come and be blessed. Come, bring your burdens and take His Yoke, for it is easy. Surrender all your stipulations for His Grace, and find it is sufficient.  Allow the fast move, that convinced you it was best, to be the slow soaking consuming multitude of frazzled chattered for worship and wisdom in single breaths.  Listening first with intention of finding what is found, not what is raced after. Where deep is one word at a time, swallowed and enjoyed like the precious jewel it is. Gathered and put together, one has colors of habitat in His Glory. Your Secret Place builds and mansions are designed after its beauty. He is preparing many for you.  Our Secret Place.

I know only to come and dine. Stay and linger. Play and sing. Rejoice and be glad. Wade around in puddles of sweet rain. Watch the sun set and rise again. In whatever state I am, I find perfect peace as I ponder Love in our Secret Place. Stirring over and over for one more word to hold and devour as my slow dance carry's it to my being where I live and move in You. Our Secret Place. The Silent Place where Your Voice dwells. Sounding deep in our Secret Place.

(Written while suffering with the flu.)