Oh God. You know it in me don’t you? The way I ache to be the kind of woman who tells the mountain to move and it does. But so often, don’t you see me? Apologizing for the inconvenience I caused the mountain. Did I ask too much of you? You…Mountain…you were just so comfortable there.

I don’t think it has ever been faith that has been my problem. It is so much larger than that mustard seed you talked about, the truth is it has always seemed to fill the whole space in my heart. The size of a kidney bean at the very least. And yet? These mountains keep filling my whole vision.

You see, I am desperate for the mountains to move, the ones in my heart that eclipse you, the ones that have names and the ones that have been there for so long they feel like they belong to the landscape. They can move though…can’t they? Take a stick of dynamite to me if you must. Explode me from the inside out, as long as this heart beats pure and true.

You can split me open like an egg if you want to. Shatter all these shells I wear. You can stir me up and serve me out as long as they shout about Your Glory when we are done.

You can wear me out like small boys jeans. Wear me weak in the knees where I bowed low to lift you high if that is what it takes for me to fall into the shadows. Spent to the end on your behalf as long as when it’s over the threads are bare in all the right places.

You can burn me down, plunder me bankrupt as long as You make the ash a Phoenix and the mountains are nothing but the place from which the spirit wind blows and lifts me high.

Create in me a clean heart Oh God.

(Missing this space, the few who gather here…so I will be hitting publish more often. Hoping if I just turn the tap back on the water will start flowing? Linking with Emily and the sisterhood over at She Loves)