Unafraid.

This may be silly, but these days I have been very saddened by how quickly time goes by.

I remember the days when anticipation was strong, seasons were long, and waiting was hard. And each moment felt infinite.

But now, life is slipping through my fingers.

And this terrifies my soul. It makes my heart grow cold, like I've stood out in the rain for too long.

I only remember this every once in a while, and each time it's a rude awakening. And isn't it bad, maybe, if the passing of time makes me fear?

Shouldn't I,
redeemed by the blood of the Lamb, 
be-

fearless?

Dissatisfied with life, unafraid of death, gloriously lost and consumed in the hope of the eternity to come. . .

Still, I often find the the doubts I shoulder and fears I confess help me to keep my faith real. They keep me asking for answers of God. I'm not going to mutter my prayers or lie by saying I am confident in the Lord.

No.

I'm broken.

My roots are born out of fear.

And some days, the only thing that keeps me from sinking
is the promise that God loves a broken and contrite spirit. That, he will not deny.

I am weary of who I am and all the jagged edges of my faith.

But God does not faint or grow weary. Not he. I don't have to bear a burden. His yoke is easy. In him I will find rest for my soul. He offers me life abundant.

So, in the peace he instills,
I want to slow down.

Savor the moments.

And even if time does slip by, even then?

I have nothing to fear. 

For all my wounds, faults, and jagged edges are nailed to a tree.