No more waiting roomNo more "wandering"
No more thinking that it's only purgatory
the airport
transition.
Leaving old things behindand
reaching
for all that lies in store
I lean hard
pressing into the arms
of Love
and hear Hope
in the voice of the Father
calling out
the name of His Beloved Son
in which I am found
The best place.
The highest calling.
3 comments:
No glass ceiling!!!
Oh, I love the imagery this evokes. Your use of the words "I lean hard pressing" remind me of how I used to hug my dad. I would have to lean in hard in order to squeeze him real tight because he had an ample belly. :-)
Indeed, the best place to be found is in His arms of love. This poem comes at a good time. I'm just starting a book by Brennan Manning called "The Furious Longing of God". I just finished reading about how Jesus calls the Father "Abba", which is Aramaic for "daddy" or "papa". That's where I want to rest. In papa's arms. Hard pressing. :-)
Thanks so much for this beautiful poem.
YES!
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