“Come, sit, listen, write. Hear My love for you.”
I know the voice well. Though it is my own sound, the softness and insistence, the tenor, is Holy. It is the voice of my Lord. His Spirit within me. I love the sound of His presence; The warmth and conviction of completion within.
But the laundry beckons. The floor covered in scattered living and the bathroom mirror flecked with reckless childishness, has my attention. Relief of a baby sleeping and a toddler contented in play inspires a waft of energy to get something done.
“Come with Me. Sit. Listen. I love you.”
Sigh. Choices! I can either assemble some hint of order in my living space, or sit down in the midst of life as a mother of four, with a revolving list of to-do’s longer than I have years left to live. My phone buzzes. A text. And another…
I walk past the piles, step over the toy cars, steer around the cast off school equipment trailing down the stairs and I sit. Peace.
“Child, you have My heart. You have captivated Me! Get rid of your guilt. It doesn’t bring Me any pleasure or honor. I have cut you off from the life of sin and guilt. You, darling daughter, are My joy! Forgiveness flows freely between Me and you. I have placed you securely within My grace and from this place I want you to live.”
And the toddler yells for “Mahhm!” and the dog barks and the baby wakes…
But the peace stays.