It Is Not I

It is not but God, the Spirit

                                              bellowing through

me.

    pushing,                                      tossing,

proding.

Un relentless.

Gentle as a whisper on a child's cheek

Awesome as a windmill drawing water from the

dirt.

Lifting.                      sailing

Carried toward a new and glorious place and

time.

                                       I must bow to His call..

even for a time.

A sacred spear of life in total turmoil with itself...

         needs a carver to chisel down the layers

                                                   of grief and misunderstandings.

         Can I be the chisel or am I that which is to be

                                                                                  chiseled?

Crack me open.......

          Help me  to find the perfect  peace that comes from

                                                                                            Knowing God.

Fill me with passion and presence

              so I overflow with

                                           a need to embrace the Spirit.

                                                       and spill that embrace into the world.

Three Angels stand at the door...

     Hope in a place that is hopeless.

           Hunger in a world that is filled.

                 Love that joins hands

                                                   across the borders.

I embrace....I become..
                               .I am the tear on God's dear cheek.

I have no choice but to listen....
                                                   .I am because God is.