Reaching in the depths of my soul to take, feel, and apply the words I’ve been pondering.
If I knew how much God loves me…
Of course, I cannot truly know the measure of His love for me. No one can. I get glimpses, mostly passing swiftly through my life. Sometimes I pause and hold tightly as long as I can. Sometimes I cannot hold His love on my own. I think that is why we need each other so much. A smile on a hard day, a reminder of my importance in someone’s life, and a connection of any sort reorientates me to His love. We really are too weak to do this alone.
The challenge at church this week is Forgiveness. It first has focused on God’s forgiveness of our own sins. Thinking of Jesus’ death on the cross has been a great reminder of His love for me. Anyway, it reminded me of a poem I wrote a while back called Rooms of my Heart.
In the rooms of my heart the windows never close.
I watch the swelling of the curtains as memories old and new blow through.
My room of pain is deep within.
Layer upon layer of paint conceal the hurt that lies beneath.
There is a closet of white clothes.
Sometimes I see the crisp white fabric and sometimes all I see are stains.
Down the hall is a room with only darkness.
I try to light a candle, but there’s a force that blows it out.
The room is cold and I feel the chills of life run up and down my spine.
I never stay long there…
I rush into my room of things I love.
It is filled with my kids laughter and my husband’s embrace.
I also have my room of peace.
A worn comfy chair, a warm blanket, and a book await me there.
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