Musings / Poetry

Sitting in Awe of My Transformation

Eyes heavy,
Spirit fed
So different
Pause

I think about my past
Passion, Fire, Prophetic Voice
Having no true north
Effective for the season but ungrounded

See children speak from sources passed onto them
Saying foolish, feeble things because secondhand, threadbare theology is what they put on
Now I see how ill-fitting those old garments were
Because He who provides is dressing me

Spirit of the Living God
My personal tailor
Lifting hems,
Dropping waists,
Adjusting the seams
So this clothing doubling as spiritual armor
Fits me

And let me tell you when it’s done
It will look good
Like Genesis good
After hovering over deep and birth of creation good
Like zenith that is woman called Havah good

God is rooting me near streams of water flowing from holy mountain spring
I am a young tree
Grafted into a grove with giants
Their trunks hold rings that speak to years of sitting in the light of the Son
God moved me here because this is not the forest I grew up in
The soil, the air are different here
It is under their cover that I am growing and stretching for more

I am sitting in awe of my transformation
I’m different
Full pause
Making way for the silence that God speaks int

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5 thoughts on “Sitting in Awe of My Transformation

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