My Heart
Lord, I give my heart to you and I watch you carefully. I wonder if you know how to handle it.
I know you created my heart. But I haven’t treated it well. You might find it more fragile than it should be.
I look down. I am ashamed. I’ve not done the right thing with my heart. I want to hide.
I shyly look back up. I see You smile big. My heart beats tenderly in Your large but gentle hands. Your eyes shine with tears of happiness. You understand how special this is. You look at me appreciatively and with assurance.
Lord, I see You wipe my heart with the edge of Your sleeve. Your movements are so soft and so slow.
I wait for the lecture. For You to put my heart down so You can tell me what I have done wrong. I wait. I wait. Still, You’re gently turning my heart over in Your hands. Bandaging, cleaning and tending.
In between these deliberate movements, You just look up at me smiling and sweet. Not today. Not now for the lesson. Another day. Another time. You treasure this time and You want me to as well.
You return my heart to me. It’s so beautiful. It is as You pictured it when You made it. The exchange is absent of stern warnings and a wagging finger. You watch me return my heart to it’s proper place.
Lord, I look back at You and You smile at me. You’re not so big anymore. I crawl into Your lap and spend the rest of the day quietly with You.
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