She said to me.
“I am” was my response.
It’s people like her that encourage me to go on, and I do.
But Lord, I’m waiting on your move. I’m waiting on your time. I’m waiting on your green light. I’m waiting on your sign.
I’m waiting on your guidelines, I’m waiting on your words; I’m waiting for you to tell me when to back up or go forth.
You’ve handed me the tools. You’ve handed me the script. You tell me not to worry, you say you have a grip
Over my life
Over my pain
Over my future
Over my gains
You’ve told me you’ve set me apart.
“Let you light shine before others” is one of your commands. “Don’t hide your lamp under a basket, put it on a stand. Stand up for the whole room, for all the people to see. Shine brightly on the hillside, like a well-lit up city.”
Shine. Shine. Shine for Jesus. Mind. Mind your wants and needs. Be mine. Be mine you whisper to me.
You wrote it in a letter. You tell me to read it and remember. I forget from January til December. You’re always sending it back to me. I rip it up and it reappears in my mailbox. I crumple it and it reappears in a message on a screen or from the mouth of someone in passing.
“Are you listening? I said ‘I love you'”
I’m listening. You told me through her, and so many others.
“I hope you’re still writing.”
“I am” I said.
Does this count?