Beauty in Waiting

Beauty-in-waiting, don’t you know your Prince is here
Beauty-in-waiting, it’s time to arise
Beauty-in-waiting, take your Lover’s hand
and join in the ball of eternity.
Beauty-in-waiting. Beauty-in-waiting.

That's the chorus to a song I wrote a few years ago. I was reminded of it last night after Tehillah, with all that went on there.

There was the worship in music, wonderful as always. And Steve asked us if there was anyone there who had something stolen from them. I was among those who raised their hands. I had just been thinking, on the way down to First Assembly, about when I was thirteen years old. I woke up one morning and thought, "I died last night." It's a bit of a joke now, but I've been dead ever since. I started dissociating then, and I still do - I distance myself from my emotions... cut myself off from feeling anything, if possible. (Which is why I read Lurlene McDaniel's novels, and why I don't shy away from the empathic I wrote of in my last entry.)

Also, a few weeks ago, I wrote about growing internally to fit into my physical body. And last night I wrote a bit of verse about growth:

Growth

To grow tall and strong
To fill this space allotted me
To cease the becoming
And finally be...

A woman of God,
the warrior I was named,
the grace He gave

I don't know if you know the words to Here is Our King, by David Crowder. We sang that last night. And it spoke to me for the first time.

From wherever spring arrives to heal the ground
from wherever searching comes
(the look itself a trace of what we're looking for).
So be quiet now and wait.

The ocean is growing.
The tide is coming in.
Here it is...Here is our King.
Here is our love.
Here is our God who's come to bring us back to Him.
He is the One. He is Jesus

And what was said to the rose to make it unfold
was said to me here in my chest,
so be quiet now and rest.

The ocean is growing.
The tide is coming.
Here it is...He is our King. He is our love.
He is our God who's come to bring us back to Him.
He is the One.
He is Jesus.

Majesty.
Finally.

Steve talked about restoration, about those who've had something taken praying that it would be restored. That "what has been killed would be brought back to life... as deep calls to deep..." And we read out Romans 8.37: No, despite all these things, overwhelming victory is ours through Christ, who loved us. (New Living Translation)

I want to live!

Like Sleeping Beauty, or Snow White, the appearance of death.
And He comes to you, to your death-bed, and He places His lips over yours, and He breathes life into you.
And you awaken, and you sit up.
He offers you His hand, and you reach out and take it. He helps you stand, and He leads you away into the GREEN fields.
You are smiling; you keep your eyes on Him. You don't even look back; if you did, you would see your old body, your old self, your shell... turn to gray ash and crumble into dust.
And you are beautiful in your new life, your new body, your new spotless robes.

Wake me from this living death that I might truly live for You. I breathe You in and breathe IT out; I long to experience life as it truly is. I am weary of the shadows and I cannot continue in this washed-out version of reality... of life... of faith...
I just want to live.
I want to be ALIVE.
It has been too long since I really knew You, knew my self, knew... too long since I knew anything.
Reach deep, deep inside. Pull. Stretch that little, itt-bitty "me". Make her finally fit the body You made for her.
The Becoming...
maybe it's an awakening...
maybe it's a reanimation...
maybe it's a growing, a stretching, a changing...
IT IS REALITY.

I just want to LIVE...
I want to be REAL.