Words whispered or spoken
tears sliding down red cheeks,
breaths forcefully expelled.
In the silence.
One or a combination
either way He hears.
Constant communication
with the One who knows all.
Yet wants to be invited in,
even in the mess or the joy,
or the messy joy.
In the little or the big,
in the silence or the noise.
He stands by waiting.
Wandering along this road
beside us.
Crouching down when we’ve fallen
and scraped our knees.
Ready to pick us up and carry us on,
on to healing, carrying us till we can try,
try and walk again.
But He waits till we are ready to let Him
pick us up.
Constantly present
listening to all the questions and
doubts within us.
Deep within the raging storm
His whisper echoes, calling your name,
calling my name.
Reminding us that even
in the midst of the pain,
confusion and waves
He is still here
waiting to carry us on.
Waiting for the moment of stillness
to silence our raging thoughts
so that we can hear Him again.
YH WH, the sigh from deep within.
The letting go.
When all other words won’t come.
He is still listening, still here whispering your name
on the wind, in the sunshine, in the smile from a stranger.
Tears streaming down your face
a breath struggling to escape.
A constant communication with
the One who is here.