Come to Him, All You Weary...

Perfect beauty formed us from the breath of his kiss. Never waiting for is to draw near to him, instead choosing from the predestined moments of history itself that He would choose to desire us. To come to us. Draw closer than we could even believe we ever deserved.

When we ran and hid in shame, he sought us out, never in hatred, not a breath of contempt on His lips; he only asked of his beloved, 

where are you?

The majestic, holy prince of peace only ever wanted us to turn our face so he could look us deep in the eye: him who knows us more than we know the worst parts of ourselves, and tell us, sing melodies over us, into us, telling us again and again, through the world he created, the songs nature sings, over and over repeating a melody that only ever needed to say 

"I love you, my child... I desire you, my beloved. I know you, lost son."

Al this life we've lived apart from him, only ever truly surviving; in all this time He only ever wanted to be reconciled, to draw us back, in the most beautiful way, to that freedom of intimacy and knowledge of him.

His heart has never condemned, only called our to us, the lost and unloveable, come back.

He never expected us to be good enough for his glory.

Only that we might let him show and reveal his love for us.

The heart cry of the father is that we turn our face to him, not to prove anything, but to gaze him deeply in the eyes and let him speak love into the most dusty corners of our souls.

So open up...

Let the daylight in, let the light shine forth

In the dusty places let his love break through,

That you might walk in peace down to the darkest places 

With his love lighting your way