Tree

Like the one standing outside, you didn't ask to be planted here.

You didn't ask to be tugged at and swung on, or even to have things thrown at you.

It isn't your choice for the rain or snow, the hail, the wind, the hot or the cold.

You didn't choose all the elements of life to pelt you the way they do.
     All of it just free falling upon the weight of your shoulders.

You stand there and take it -- each moment upon moment.

And really, you have no choice. Because if you try to stiff arm it, duck and shield, it will still find you.

You were chosen for this. 

The cup sometimes seems like too much. The weight of the days sometimes too much to bear.

Somehow you are sustained.

Naked you came and naked you go, and it's your nakedness that's fully purposed, you should know.
   
Your worship is right here, in you standing there bare.
     Accepting this life -- full on, as it is.

Let yourself feel. Honor how the days sometimes hurt.

Give yourself permission to grieve and to breathe.

Each season's a gift that colors you, sheds you, and yet by His grace strengthens you.
     This you really can trust.

Disclaimer: Today's words came slower and needed more than just five minutes. 
Still, the critic was silenced. And this is my worship. 

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