NOW IT'S TIME TO CELEBRATE...YOUR RESCUE -Part I

Thank you for saving me. For coming to my rescue.

The people of the earth plead and wail. They are desperate for a being who can save them. They realize their plight and the limits of their own abilities. They have been defeated-beaten, unable to get up. When they cry, he comes, always. Some might ignore him, holding our for something "better" or more convenient. But others reach their arms out to the one who will beat their capturer and deliver them.

And he will. And he did.

As one who had been beaten down to the earth, one who had been abandoned and left for dead, one who let you walk by me with no desire for true help. I wanted your help, but not you. Until one day I saw your eyes. Warm and beckoning, you came to my rescue.

"In my anguish I cried to the Lord,

and he answered by setting me free."

Ps 118:5

As one who was rescued, it's time to celebrate...

.

Talk to Me

"Talk to me, little one."

"But Father, I don't speak well."
I get caught up in the things I will say next, then I ramble, piecing together sentences that make sense to no one...


Then he smiled and said, "Who gave man his mouth? Who makes him deaf or mute? Who gives him sight or makes him blind? Is it not I, the Lord? Now go; I will help you speak and will teach you what to say."


So with his breath in my lungs and his words in my mouth, I began. At first there was silence. My heart spoke to him from the depths of my being. What my mouth could not put into words, my soul cried and shouted. It spoke of wonderful things. It spoke of thankfulness, awe, mercy, grace, hurts, feelings of fear and doubt. Anything I felt was laid out for him to see.
Every time my heart and soul burst forth, my tongue was loosened. My mouth would spit forth a sentence. Not a paragraph, not a complete thought...just a sentence. He was helping me. He was teaching me what to say.
Maybe one day I will fearlessly speak from my mouth.

Maybe one day when he says, "Talk to me, little one."

I will.

.