With jet-engine propulsion
You send me down the runway
Of your path for me.
With the loss of my own will
And the surrender to your plan
I can say that I now understand.
I understand the sweetness of
Surrender. The breaking of my own will
and the acceptance of your own
ushers in peace, deep peace, and your grace.
Why did I wait this long?
For too long I sought my own path.
I look back and see the carnage
Of my own will worked out:
The skeletons of broken (but forgiven)
Friendships and relationships.
The fist-shaking-three-year-old I’ve been the last couple of years.
The walls I’ve thrown up at people I didn’t want to work things out with.
The fear I was unwilling to let you work through.
The ugly words, the unspoken words.
The years of wishing my life looked differently than it does.
Oh, that you would redeem the time
And I have faith you will.
You will right all wrongs in the end, even,
especially, those I’ve birthed.
You will give words where needed,
you will give courage for the path,
you will heal the wounds and the broken bones I have no ability to heal.
You will give continued grace to accept and submit to this strange path.
And best of all, you take this three year old into your arms,
quieting me with your love and send me forth.
You send me forth on a mission of your choosing
and I accept. I accept at the loss of my own will.
And I gain. As I look back on the miles and years
of lost dreams and hopes and demands and rights
and friends, in surrender to you, I gain.
I gain your peace, your provision and your guiding hand.
Oh Lord, from this middle seat somewhere above mid-America,
take this broken will and do with it what you will.
Make right my wrongs.
As I let go, I gain everything.
For Lord, where else would I go where I would find anything sweeter?
finalite 