When the worldly securities
you have gathered around yourself
inevitably fail you
allow your disappointment
to finally set you free.
They were never intended
to be your answers anyway.
Before you carve another safe spot
to keep yourself protected
from the panic and pain of change
stop to listen beyond your fear
to a stronger rhythm underneath.
Rest here in the center of your hurt
and grasp hold of my real security instead.
This humility you did not choose
exposes you and offers you
only one way out toward the truth:
your identity, and my plan for you,
have never been changing variables.
You have always been this loved.
You will always be this loved.
No house is safer from a storm than another.
And people will always track in mud
if you invite them inside.
Your choice each day: close the door,
or boldly throw it open.
I promise I will come inside
and make my home with you.
I am fixing what you were born with broken
and binding up the wounds
you got from other broken people.
I am smoothing away the worry from your brow
and soothing your tired eyes with rest.
And I am saving a seat for you at the table
in the home all your pain makes you hope for.