The pot brewed bitter.
Hurt and anger bubbled.
Until the mixture burst its bounds.
Words popped, veiled in humor.
But cork screwed heart hole, burrowed deep.
And I could not retrieve it.
Though I tried at once, the one who bears the wound preferred to embrace it a little longer.
And would not speak the words that would heal both.
I stood naked as a midwinter tree.
Bitter cold.
Stripped of pretense.
Humbled.
So spirit heavy, I crumpled at the feet of Him who freely gives.
And grieved the sludge that darkens His reflection.
Though aware of what He scraped away to show Himself more clear.
Yet sadness gripped me close until today.
In the yard.
Awash with wind-whiffled shades of green and pink and purple.
Gold tinged.
And ruffled white.
Once naked branches now gowned in glory, fit for a ball.
Adorned from inside out.
Bitter turned to beauty.
The grass floor’s dotted and smeared with dandelion butter.
Invites an easy slide.
Tulips bob to the music.
They call me deep, to come and dance.
I let it go.
Trust it to the One who bleeds grace.
Who clothes me from inside out.
And I dance.
Work at living in peace with everyone, and work at living a holy life, for those who are not holy will not see the Lord. Look after each other so that none of you fails to receive the grace of God. Watch out that no poisonous root of bitterness grows up to trouble you, corrupting many. ~Hebrews 12:14-16 (NLT)
Dancing with Laura and L.L. and Michelle and the sisters.
Peace.
To you as well, friend.
“bleeds grace”
oh yes, this…
🙂
I have a bit of bitter that needs to turn into beauty. As I breathe deep, I accept the invitation to surrender.
Daily . . .
Wow! That red just POPS! Love.
Bright, isn’t it? You could lose a ladybug in it. 🙂
such a needful transition …
One I need to make often.
breathing deeply…this was truly beautiful.
Breathing with you. Thanks.
Gorgeous! Your photos. And your heart.
Thanks so much, Jeanne.
God has healed me through nature more times than I can count (in fact, that’s what this week’s Hear It, Use It post was really about — finding hope — and the outdoors helped me get there). Thank you so much for linking this up, Sandy. And those tulip close-ups — my word!!
I find hope in red these days. And joy in yellow. We find Him in His creation.