The Bestowed Bride…

the love of life…

is Christ, but His bride is a close second.

My heart overflows a little more, each time I walk in her doors

astounded and in awe

with fresh perspective as to where this branch of the bride of Christ has been.

This branch runs deep in me, it’s where I found a Love sweeter than honey, sturdier than solid ground.

This branch is one of many,

many that take deep roots as One tree. One holy, rooted, body.

She’s got some history,

with all that she’s endured and how her faithful Groom has sustained her,

it makes for a good story of His steadfast love.

He fights for her so that any and all would come to know and love and re-discover their Savior.

I hurl myself in her direction

with more love, more sacrifice, more mending of what’s broken, more speaking of what’s covered and lost and hurt, more questions, and more stillness

every time I refresh and renew.

For these few moments, I choose to be still.

I choose to remember the bestowed bride.

I let this heart song ring louder than the clamor to be enough, do enough, post enough…

I let the echoes of voices singing as one sink deeper than the sting of not being on someone’s highlight reel.

I let these heart beats of those in seats and walking halls matter more than how attractive I can appear or the discomfort of hard conversations.

I press in. With Him, I press in. With her, I press in.

I’m holding on, to what matters most and what has been grappling for my attention and dear care.

Begging me to come back,

waiting there

patient and steady as ever,

my First Love.

This re-ordering has been the sweetest soul shift.

Re-encountering…

the Creator, Keeper, Sustainer, Renewer.

Remembering…

the Balm for the broken, the Cure for the crippled, the Light of the lost.

Refocusing on…

the Lamp that met us where we were but who is also in any and every atmosphere of holy ground where two or more gather in His name.

Where He plants His feet, the earth trembles.

All we can mutter is holy, holy, holy is His name…

He is holy,

She is His bride.

He has granted us the pieces to His puzzle, the additional chapters, the unraveled threads.

He’s entrusted her to us.

He gave her to us as a gift,

the most faulty and humanly distraught,

to sustain, to serve, to seek as a primary way of

seeking Him, serving Him, being a good steward for Him.

Refresh and renew dear children, your brokenness makes her whole.

His love story wins out. Her love story wins out.

Your love story, being wrapped in their love, wins out.

Every. Single. Time.

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