Stretching to a True Height

I love my heart. I mean, I love the treasure that it is, the imprint of the Living One there. More than an imprint - his Life, with all the fullness of Him in his desire, his passion, his love of life and risk and me and his bride. That it looks different than everyone else's, that it's unique in that it has nuances and quirks and a story all its own and words spoken to it personally that bring it to life like some spring rain for the barren fields, that it likes what it likes and dreams and beats its own slightly different rhythm... this is not its shame, but rather its glory. It's like those mighty pines stretching on the ranges of the Rockies - they're made from the same stuff. And from afar, they all paint the scenes some brilliant green. But close up, they are all unique, bearing different scars from the wildlands and some curvature from restless winds. But they are all mighty as they dive straight into the sea of high sky above. They clap their hands in adoration of their Maker.

I want to step out today. Have you noticed the nearer you draw to the edge the louder the voices of condemnation and accusation become? Good grief. I know it's His voice calling me out of the cave, out of the shadows, but I can't remember now what it sounded like (and I just heard it yesterday, but today it's only an echo, which just shows me how much I can lose in one night). I feel like that boy whose house caught on fire late one night. His parents grabbed him and ran with him downstairs to safety, but fightened, he pulled away. His parents made it outside and screamed for him, only to see him on his 2nd-story window's ledge. His room now consumed with flames, the only way to freedom and rescue was a freefall into the night. His dad below yelled for him to jump. Gagged and blinded by the billowing smoke, the son could only choke out, "But Daddy, I can't see you!" "I know, son. I know," he cried, "But I can see you. Now, jump!"

It's time to come out of the shadows. Time to stretch to my true heigth and stature, next to the enormity of this Awesome God, desperately dependent upon him to come through, for his breath and living water. "And like a volunerable bud on a wide western plain, whose hopes outreach its strength as it streches for the sun and laments for the rain..."

This is my heart's cry in this day, Lover of my Soul. Rescue me.