Could someone please give me some honest feedback concerning this? I'm not sure how it appears to the public... Thank you.
I want to have a picture of Him. If not a picture of His face, then of His love.
Someone spoke to me today. They spoke to me with such kindness in their voice, yet such godly counsel in their words. It seems rare that I am touched by such a combination. Is that, I wonder, how my Father's voice is to me?
People have hurt me. I search their faces for the love of My Father, but the rejection and indifference I am met with seem to far outweigh the love.
An unselfish act seems soon counteracted by a selfish one, and I find myself viewing myself through the imperfect actions of others.
I search for My Father's face. I search for a love that is higher than the stars. I must search beyond friends, for they can fail. I must search beyond circumstances, for I find they can be a poor portrayal of the God whom I know is love. If I am to make it through this darkness, I find I must search.
No one seems to see me, to notice me as I hurt, alone, afraid, bleeding from a wounded heart. Is this a reflection of His love to me? As I watch them walk by, does He walk by too?
I remove my gold, my dazzling apparel-now all I had to attract love to myself is so futile.
Father, where is Your face? Where is the picture of Your unconditional love?
Past the voices, past the glances, I search...and in that search I find a book, a book that is Him.
In its pages I see forgiveness. I see a hand, stretched out to save. I hear a voice, that speaks so kindly, so compellingly. I see feet,walking towards me, as hands reach down to cover my shame. I see a hand, reaching out, not afraid to touch my diseased body, but rather offering by its touch to heal it. I see water, offered freely, that can cleanse me from the dirt in my soul, dirt I'd let in as I sought to fill in that empty place no person seemed able to do.
Page after page portrayed such beauty, beauty my heart had longed for but had not been able to find: love, hope, acceptance, promises that don't break. Oh, what a picture. It is here, here, that I have finally found a picture of My Father's love.
I want to have a picture of Him. If not a picture of His face, then of His love.
Someone spoke to me today. They spoke to me with such kindness in their voice, yet such godly counsel in their words. It seems rare that I am touched by such a combination. Is that, I wonder, how my Father's voice is to me?
People have hurt me. I search their faces for the love of My Father, but the rejection and indifference I am met with seem to far outweigh the love.
An unselfish act seems soon counteracted by a selfish one, and I find myself viewing myself through the imperfect actions of others.
I search for My Father's face. I search for a love that is higher than the stars. I must search beyond friends, for they can fail. I must search beyond circumstances, for I find they can be a poor portrayal of the God whom I know is love. If I am to make it through this darkness, I find I must search.
No one seems to see me, to notice me as I hurt, alone, afraid, bleeding from a wounded heart. Is this a reflection of His love to me? As I watch them walk by, does He walk by too?
I remove my gold, my dazzling apparel-now all I had to attract love to myself is so futile.
Father, where is Your face? Where is the picture of Your unconditional love?
Past the voices, past the glances, I search...and in that search I find a book, a book that is Him.
In its pages I see forgiveness. I see a hand, stretched out to save. I hear a voice, that speaks so kindly, so compellingly. I see feet,walking towards me, as hands reach down to cover my shame. I see a hand, reaching out, not afraid to touch my diseased body, but rather offering by its touch to heal it. I see water, offered freely, that can cleanse me from the dirt in my soul, dirt I'd let in as I sought to fill in that empty place no person seemed able to do.
Page after page portrayed such beauty, beauty my heart had longed for but had not been able to find: love, hope, acceptance, promises that don't break. Oh, what a picture. It is here, here, that I have finally found a picture of My Father's love.
