Who knows how much moss I have gathered. I have let it take root in the raw places where I am bruised from transgressions, other’s and my own. I lacquer on layers too, for protection, I think, but for avoidance, most likely. Who knows how thick is my shell.
When one meets God along the path of life, His hand penetrates the scales she has accumulated, on her skin, over her eyes, in her soul. They begin to loosen and fall away and she, falling so in love, unwittingly lets them. Well, most of them, she is only human. His grace and great love for her dispels so many at the start. His mercy brings healing. She wants more of this healing. It is like nothing she has ever experienced in her life. She begins to crave more of that beautiful light to come loosen her makeshift armor.
An image comes to mind. My small self is looking up at my father, maybe grabbing his legs, maybe hopping in circles around him pulling on his shirt. I want him to pick me up. I want to be in his arms, see what he is seeing. I want to be very close to him. So I stand before him, bouncing on my toes. I stretch my arms straight up to his chest, my fingers splayed in urgency. I may be silent, I may be calling to him, but I am begging to be lifted up.
This is my petition. Lift me, Lord. Let me see what You see. Hold me up so I can take it all in, safe in Your grace and mercy. Take away all of my meager efforts, I want Your supply. Lift me into Your light.
Teach me your way, LORD, that I may rely on your faithfulness; give me an undivided heart, that I may fear your name. Psalm 86:11
Meeting God at the Park 