Father, we come . . .
You have given us merely a glimpse of perfect peace and trust.
we think we've seen fully.
we think we know fully.
You've helped us to trust You more than ever before.
we've come so far from where we've been.
we're happy and grateful for this place where we are now.
You've given us an overwhelming amount of joy.
we want everyone to know how we got here.
we want everyone to experience this peace.
You tell us that not everything needs to be spoken of our story, though.
our story is our story.
our lessons are our lessons.
You tell us that You will appoint a time and a way to use what we've learned for them.
it could be that our story is just meant for us.
it could be that what we know and see might not be meant for them.
You tell us just because we've learned so much doesn't mean we have to teach them.
their needs aren't for us to figure out.
their needs aren't our responsibility to fill.
You give us a unique role and we don't even know what it is.
teach us what our part is, Father.
teach us where You begin and where we end.
You've used our storytelling to help people to see You.
we've become addicted to how You move for them.
we've become addicted to telling how good You are.
You are the Bread.
we've tried to give them what we think they need.
we've tried to give them what only know they need.
You discipline us to be quiet and wise warriors who wait.
we struggle to let our stories sit still.we struggle to let You move as You will.
You discipline us to teach with love and less words.
we've become blabbers to some.
we've become gong-like to some.
You show us how we need You to help us rest.
might we not feel the compulsion to fix them.
might we let them be as they are.
You are teaching them just as much as You're teaching us.
might we let them learn at the perfect timing meant for them.
might we let ourselves trust You for all of us.