Will you wait for me?

On the pieceofamani list is lyrics. I just love them. Justlove'em. I am not sure why a picture of a raspberry ended up here except that sometimes lyrics of songs grow on me like fruit on a tree; first, the tiny blossom blooms and of course it is beautiful, but then the fruit of these words grow and they are... satiable. Like this raspberry here.

And like this song by Alexi Murdoch

Feel I'm on the verge of some great truth
Where I'm finally in my place
But I'm fumbling still for proof
And it's cluttering my space
Casting shadows on my face
I know I have a strength to move a hill
I can hardly leave my room
So I'll sit perfecty still
And I'll listen for a tune
When my mind is on the moon

And if I stumble
And if I stall
And if I slip now
And if I should fall
And if I cant be all that I could be
Will you, will you wait for me

Cause everywhere I seem to be
I am only passing through
I dream these days about the sea
Always wake up feeling blue
Wishing I could dream of you

So if I stumble
And if I fall
And if I slip now
And lose it all
And if I can't be all that I could be
Will you, will you wait for me

And wait for me
And wait for me
And wait for me
Won't you wait for me
And wait for me
Please wait for me
Please wait for me
Won't you wait for me
And wait for me
Please wait for me
Please wait for me
will you wait for me?

I have found myself asking this question recently. I believe it is a legitimate question. If I mess up, am I still worth waiting for? It is questioning grace. If I do this, and that, and the most horrible actions you imagine, can your love still be expanded further in my life? If I sin, and hate, and lie, and lust, and cheat, and make mistakes will you still want me at the end of the day? Is your blood enough to cover ALL of me?

I like to ask God questions because he always answers one way or another. His reply: Does the earth sustain from the saturation of this rain? Does the ocean run out of water? Does the desert run out of sand? Does the sky always fill the horizon? In this same way, I am fully enough for you.

Or how about poetry? I love poetry.

THIS ONE IS MINE.

Someone put/ You on a slave block/ and the unreal you bought/ you.

Now I keep coming to your owner/ saying,/ "This one is mine."

You often overhear us talking/ and this can make your heart leap/with excitement.

Don't worry,/ I will not let sadness/ possess you.

I will gladly borrow all the gold/ I need

to get you/ back.

Or quotations?

"Your love should never be offered to the mouth of stranger, only to someone who has the valor and daring to cut pieces of their soul off with a knife then weave them into a blanket to protect you." I am a sucker for romance. This quote is roMANtic (emphasis on the MAN, heh heh--I crack myself up). But I am waiting for someone with this sort of valor. And I know this sort of love exists. Because I have seen it happen in others, for others, and in myself, and for myself. But will you wait for me? Cause everywhere I seem to be, I am only passing through. I dream these days about the sea, always wake up feeling blue,

wishing I could dream of you.

Adventure.

High up on the list is one single word with around a hundred different meanings: adventure. I love adventure; this is a learn-through-experience-love. God has been showing me how to let go of some of my fears, to enjoy instead His adventure he offers everyday. So I could try to write about all the different adventures I have had, or ones I hope one day to have, but I don’t think that would be sufficient. The only necessary thing to say, is that if my brother wants me to do anything with him or for him, he just has to tell me, “Come on, Liv, it’ll be an adventure!” And then I’m hooked. Convinced. Utterly Persuaded. I am pretty much terrified of dancing in public, but if someone tells me that there is a possibility of missing out on an opportunity of an adventure, most fears are subsided because I can feel the righteousness of God’s hand in my life through adventure.

I know I have said this word around 27 times now, but I don’t care. I grew up with too many fears in my heart to keep them there now, there has been too much strength and trust poured in my soul, to keep me from all the things I thought of doing but didn’t do. God has transformed me too much, I can’t go back to fear, my flesh clings to it, and my spirit resists it.

In declaration I am an adventurer scouting the world for whatever I am supposed to find: love, family, broken dreams, monsters underneath beds, broken hearts, children, a spouse, God. The enemy calls this foolishness. His demons whisper my “immaturity.” Satan attacks what we are meant most to do, God encourages what He desires for us. Thus, in the paradox of this Jesus faith, I reject fearfulness, and cling to the fearless heart of God.