Devotion of Your Youth

I remember the devotion of your youth,
how as a bride you loved me
and followed me through the desert,
through a land not sown...
Awake, awake...
Free yourself from the chains on your neck...
"For my people have been taken away for nothing,
and those who rule them mock,
All day long my name is constantly blasphemed.
Therefore my people will know my name;
therefore in that day they will know
that it is I who foretold it.
Yes, it is I."

Remember the devotion of your youth.
Too many of us have fallen asleep.
It's time that we wake up to the truth.
Know the Name.
I don't want God telling me "I told you so."


*Jer. 1:2 ; Isa. 52:1, 2, 5-6

Complexity

Our lives are each individually so complex. We have moments that spring other moments into action and people that add an extra thread into our tightly woven life. It's when you sit and examine the details of your life that you realize there was no way I could have put any of these things into motion.
I don't know how many times I have tried to control the things that happened in my life. I have went out of my way to manipulate opportunities only to see, now how much energy I wasted on something I had no grasp on to begin with. We plan out our lives step by step only to find yourself taking a turn that wasn't on the map you drew out in the beginning. If we draw out our own map in life and stick to it then there is no complexity to existing. What makes a painting complex is the thousands of random colors and brush strokes that make up a extremely large masterpiece. The finished product can only be seen by taking a step back and having each piece fall into it's perfect place. Only when you take that step back, away from the canvas, does the picture come together.
It really does amaze me how complex our lives are and we never had to pick up a brush. We just needed to take a step back and let each stroke fall into it's rightful place. It is finished. So there is no need to try to perfect the Perfecter.

Home

It was settling driving alone back to my new/old home in the suburbs of Alabaster. I blasted "Coming Home" on my ipod in my car as I drove. If my Dad was in the car while I did that he would have just glared at me in joking disapproval, so I waited until he was safely in his hotel room. It is funny being back here, I don't know how many times I asked myself "what am I doing here?" But I quickly dismissed those thoughts and accepted the fact this was the only place I felt at home. This was my chance of just having a place to really call my own, a place where I had a fresh start. A life that is not disfigured by my ever haunting past.
I honestly don't know what's next in the storybook of my life and I don't care to try to figure it out. At this moment I'm just glad I'm here. God thank you that you have given me simply that. A Home.