Every Bit

I’ve told you before, I know, about the conversations in my little books.

My own scrawly writing, squashed letters filling pages,

some in blue pen, ink spots scattered across the pages

where my thoughts lingered, and the pen bled.

Some is written in black ink, the fine tip rolling seamlessly across the page,

unbroken ys, gs, entire words melding into one.

Amidst those scattered, chaotic, heart-real pages,

there is bold writing;

letters written in caps, spaced wide, set apart.

Maybe I told you before, maybe I’ve explained;

I’ve no magic powder, to high-powered instruments to hear

the the voice of God,

but I’ve His Word in the Bible,

in the world,

leading and shaping my own heart,

and those big letters, those capital shapes running across the pages

of my little books?

I believe those are the Lord.

The same Lord I listened for this afternoon.

Nearing the end of a two-hour drive, the second of my day’s travels,

I leaned against the headrest behind me,

allowed my mind to wander, ever so slightly,

over the weights, the thoughts, the conversations,

that have run through my mind, raced round my heart, in the past days.

I thought and I listened,

and I talked, too.

Maybe a little odd,

maybe at interesting choice,

but five hours roundtrip is a long time to be alone in a car,

and yes, I admit it- sometimes I talk to myself. Out loud.


And this was talking, too, but I was talking with God,

just as if He was sitting alongside me,

buckled into the passenger’s seat.

And I explained and I wondered,

and I stated and I reasoned,

and as I talk,

I felt doubts, responses, rebuttals, rising unbidden to my lips,

and I pulled them out, turned them over,

once and then yet again,

considered them.

And, those words considered, I spoke again;

another response, another word, and so forth, on and on.

Because that’s how conversation goes,

and that’s how people learn

and trade

and grow,

and in the things I said

and the thing I heard,

I came to see a little more,

to understand a little more,

and I settled a little deeper into the hope I cling to daily.

Hope that He’ll not leave me,

and that He’ll not leave me the same.

Because His voice, working in my heart, bringing thoughts to mind,

whispering into my own conversations,

would see me grown,

would see me changed,

would see me following Him more and more.

So I open my eyes, open my ears,

open my heart,

and I listen and I speak and I live,

and through it all, I pray, I trust, I hope,

I’ll becoming more like Him every bit of the way.



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