27

Written on May 15, 2011 by emily

Freedom. From pressures and pulls that are not His pressures and pulls. Freedom from fears largely unfounded, from hurts and aches that strangle the heart and keep it from loving big and loving loud. Courage to press through walls and fences that are not as rigid or scary as they seemed until I pass through.

What am I willing to risk? Is not what comes next — after this life — going to be infinitely better than this? When I see with lightened eyes and unveiled face and my brokenness becomes whole in the light of His presence. O death, where is thy sting? And if there really is no sting in death for the lovers of Jesus, what am I really to be afraid of at all?

Remembering that He gave all of Himself, holding nothing back, can’t I, won’t I do the same on His account? Joyfully? No matter what it seems to cost on this side of eternity? What if the very things He asks us to bear, the labor and pains, what if they really do count for something eternal? Things that change history forthcoming?

Laying down, pressing in, open hands and heart, I tremble, but mostly with joy. The overwhelming kind.

---