Wind whistling. There is cold outside
now there is rest inside. Calm listening.
I rush toward a future I don't even know
thinking I can control, leading with desire
rooted in demand.
Lord, I desire warmth, comfort, ease, simplicity.
These are gifts I expect you to give me.
Closed doors mean cold, frustrating anger.
Confusion, chaos, hurt, hunger.
So beautiful these gift, promised in your word to me.
To hurt fasting and praying, hoping, wondering
stir within me a force by grace let it be toward you first
Knowing that you, Father, grant us grace to lead with desire,
rooted in acceptance.
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