Dear God, I alternate between panic and confidence. Do I dangle on a thread, or are my feet on a sturdy hilltop? Lord, perhaps both are true. Perhaps you are teaching me they are the same thing — that the taught thread is stronger than I fear; that the solid ground can wash away beneath my feet.
Let me seek you more energetically, my dear Lord. I open myself to you and await your visit. A passive child expecting gifts. But you say, “Knock, and it will open.” I therefore must knock. Instead I stand unmoving by your doorway.
God, let this wind across the landscape not trouble me. Let it awaken me, quicken my heart and set my spine straight. Let me not rest idle, awaiting rescue, but set forth on my way. Let me enjoy the brief showers, and have sense to build shelter when storms descend.
You built me with feet, hands, mouth, legs, heart, mind. Let me use all these gifts, taking joy in performing as intended.
If I am your hammer, Lord, let me not cower in fear of the nail.