It might sound cliche, simplistic,
Pseudo-poetic
But – and I know I’m not supposed to swear –
But I swear it was real –
There was an ocean and
It was in me and around me and with and in spite of and in comfort of.
So much water and moving waves that it was
An endless surface and me tiny upon it.
The ocean –
I just got to be there with it, on it, in it.
An ocean – but no scary – and
It all rose and fell in a landscape of clean.
I was alone – in a way – but also held
Amidst this continuous, absolute, consumptive presence
Not my own.
Weeping,
Love
(That I don’t deserve)
Pours out and over my vessel’s rim.
I offer nothing but
Ears to hear
Eyes to see
Asking through belief and
(Sometimes out of desperation and by tenacious, teeth-gritted faith:
Also gifts, these)
Gifts of grace
He shares a whole ocean of love.
I am absorbed, carried, cleansed, filled
To overflowing.
Offering nothing,
Grateful, overjoyed, so pleased to be HIS.
What else is there?
Where else would be better to be
Than submerged, cleaned, carried on a whole ocean of love?
Thank You and
Glory!
wordskeepmesane 
The harder I’ve been struggling with faith, the more I see that this is one of my most difficult obstacles: surmounting my disbelief that I deserve that love–as powerful and everywhere reaching as, just as you describe it, an ocean. I have been told that none of us “deserve” it, which makes it all the more overwhelming for me to accept. How can I possibly take what is too big, too much, too beautiful for me?
Truly delightful work, Amy. In the meantime, I have no problem believing your Creator takes pride and joy in YOU.
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I don’t know how I missed this comment, but it’s a little uncanny to see it this morning. I awoke at 3:30 a.m. This morning and thought of you and am wondering how (and where) you are. Blessings to you and yours, dear one.
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