I Belong


close up of tree against sky
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Some people have asked for the text of the poem Amy read at the Women’s Conference (inspired by the Lauren Daigle song, You Say), so here it is!   She included the scripture references in brackets for those interested.

I Belong

Voices of Isaiah describe me- a vat of dead leaves [Isaiah 64:6].  Crackling.  Shackling.  My sins have carried me away like wind- away from everything I need and toward everything I think I want.

Voices of Daniel attest to my arrest.  I have been weighed on the balance [Daniel 5:27].  Leveled with liters, measured in meters and found I was less…

Voices in Psalms say at my lowest I am but a breath and at my highest but a delusion [Psalm 62:9].

Confusion- for my own voice is absent.  Numb.  I am weary of crying out; my throat is parched; my eyes dim with waiting for Him [Psalm 69:3].  

And Then…

In Romans you say because you love me I am more than a conqueror [Romans 8:37].  More than Alexander the Great who conquered the known world, you died so the whole world could know you. 

When I feel weak like Leah in a world of Rachels you say I am strong [Genesis 29:17].  So I dress myself with the strength of your proverbs and I begin your spiritual circuit training.  My arms become strong- to discipline, guide and embrace the people you place in my life [Proverbs31].

Yet, despite my best efforts, I cannot heal my family, so I fall at your feet like Jairus [Luke 8].  I am a Zacchaeus who falls short, but in short, I know where to fall.  I fall at the feet of the one who can build a wall of protection or fall a wall of fear or pride.  See He died, so He could live in-side!  

Though it doesn’t make sense, there are times,  like the woman who bled, I try to hide my healing [Luke 8].  Yet, I choose to hunger at the feet of my Maker.  Martha calls, but I am Mary- a student who sits close to His hip.  And when  I think I slip, I sense your extravagant love supports this simple frame- a shield repelling shame [Psalm 94].

Sometimes I am reminded of where I don’t belong.  I don’t fit in the Trump haters or the Trump hailers because I’m too busy worshipping the one Sailor who navigates this ship with the stars he created.  

So even when the wait seems long, I remember I was called to be-long to Jesus Christ [Romans 1:6].  I am the blind man cast out, first for my affliction, and then for my healing [John 9].  I was lost, then tossed but always found by Jesus.  Let me never forget to whom I belong.

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