I See Strings: Results of Sunday Night in the Prayer Room

Just as You hang the stars in the night sky You hold up my very being. Like a puppet I move at Your every word. Clinging as a bee does to its honey, though You are sweeter. Where would I be if You had not caught me, if You had not attached me to Yourself and intricately maneuvered me through every sunrise and sunset. I am your Rose of Sharon and You my morning star and the banner over me is love. We sing, say, preach, these things, but do we really believe it? Do I really believe it? Do I actually believe that when I talk Your heart moves. That when I gaze up at You things in Heaven shake. Oh what love You have for me that You would puppeteer a wretched child like me. 

I look out into the city abyss and see the world attached with strings to the heavens. Each one of Your creations You guide throughout life without fault or missed steps—forever unchanging. Why do You do it God? I must know. I must know how You can love us! How You can look over the balcony, peer into this darkened age, and yet still come for us. Strong like a lion and compassionate as a sheep, You never turn away Your eyes. You never run from Your beloved. As we each day only give you a piece of ourselves You wrap us in all of You. 

I look at the myriad of these strings across this earth, connected every which way—spiraling and crossing and some even zig-zagging—and my heart aches at the size of your love. Even the strings of those who completely deny Your presence are still attached. You still carry them in Your arms patiently waiting for the day their eyes meet Yours. How I cannot even begin to imagine how it feels to have your masterpiece stripped from You. The very ones you blew life into slander Your name, but You keep Your arms open. “Come to me” You say, and yet they do not move towards You. But You still stay. 

Ahh yes, we move You, I move You. I look to the heavens and sing, with my strings intact and my heart open to receive Your love and I know my choice is rightly made. I do not know why, but as my eyes fall on your glorious abode I know that its intensity overwhelms You. I can feel my strings become tighter as I release more of myself to You, but it is a tightness of freedom. I let go and You perfectly guide me. I give up and You rejoice as you passionately scream in my ear, “finally You are here at rest.” Chaos leaves, stress dissipates, and my body is left fully feeling last Thursdays nights ab workout—I’m alive. With my strings attached to the Heavens I look at my at my Beloved and fall down over the beauty of His perfected puppeteer skills and the undying desire to have His inheritance in this Earth.