When an old journal becomes a new and re-purposed journal, I tend to find bits and pieces of past writing scribbled in margins on the back of then-important pages.
Here's a prose-like poem turned prayer from a few years back recently resurfaced:
Sandy Shores of Rough Water
When you find the only stone you'd been looking for on a muddy beach, does that make you whole?
When you redirect every wave in order to change your perspective, are you better off, or just tired?
Is it true that maybe while you were searching for that perfect sea shell, you already had a polished one in your pocket? In desperation, with no hope or light, one may stumble around those sandy shores of rough waters.
I wonder where we get the strength to push those waves back from knocking us down. The answer has been here all along; for in my mother's womb I was knitted by His hands.
Can I trust He knows what He is doing and just let the stress and anxiety go? Can I just let the waves roll over me knowing He is my life jacket?
The darkness is never as dark as I think; if I could just open my eyes, I could see more in a blink.
God help me open my eyes to your strength...
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