The Adoption of the Broken

** It's a sick week at our home right now. I appreciate your prayers for us, especially for my daughter, Carissa. In the meantime, I hope you won't mind if I dust off a couple of oldies but goodies to share here again. Thank you for your grace. <3 Heart Hugs **

So you have not received a spirit that makes you fearful slaves. Instead, you received God’s Spirit when he adopted you as his own children. Now we call him, “Abba, Father.” For his Spirit joins with our spirit to affirm that we are God’s children. - Romans 8:15-16

photo credit: D.Munoz-Santos via photopin cc

photo credit: D.Munoz-Santos via photopin cc

I sit here in the corner,
in the dark.

I don't even dream anymore
of a family who will love me

want me
choose me.

They choose the newest babies
still moldable,

smelling sweet.

They choose the ones
who still have a sparkle in their eyes
to match the glimmer of their perfect blond hair.

But You

You walk a little farther
peer a little harder

into shadowy edges,
into the forgotten places.

The forgotten broken

like me.

You slide down the wall to sit beside me
holey hands braced casually on holy knees

like you have all the time in the world
to woo me.

We speak of the past
and you show me your bottle,

the one where you keep every tear.

We speak of the present
and You let me lean on your chest
as I sigh.

You bring up the future
and my walls crumble.

How could they possibly stand
in the force of the adoration

shining in Your eyes?

You hint at amazing things to come.
You promise things I'm almost too scared to hope for...

You take my hand
and lead me out into the sunlight.

I kneel to worship at Your feet,
but you gently lift up my face

and say softly,
“Call Me Abba.”

 

Photo by v923z


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May God Bless You,

Shelly

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