Your slate.

January 14, 2008

My life is Your slate, clean (in Christ);
Your handed is poised
to etch in Your perfect plan.
Here I’ve written my plans in chalk;
Often I’ve tried to keep the wind
& Your breath
from blowing away my self-created course.
I’ve hovered over my plans,
covered them with my hands,
unwilling to see them erased.
Your hand is yet poised,
in readiness to do Your perfect will,
in Your perfect timing.
I bow my head,
my head following the reality in my heart (or so I pray).
Father, glorify Thy name.
I fix my eyes not only on the movement of Your hand,
but on Your dear face.
I am content to wait
in the stillness,
to do what I’m called to do now
& not look ahead to days that are not guaranteed.
The Hand I may often wonder at,
but the Face I pray to know & trust
& love,
more & more.
As for You, my God,
Your way is perfect.
I shall not want,
Beginning & End.

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