Previous Challenge Entry (Level 3 - Advanced)
Topic: Retreat (as in quiet time away) (08/01/05)
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TITLE: All The Comforts of Home | Previous Challenge Entry
By LINDA GERMAIN
08/06/05 -
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Oh Lord, here I am again, standing under this warm, soothing spray. It is the only private refuge available where I can feel safe and come clean.
As you know, a very serious situation is brewing. I am sorry dear Father. I cannot stop crying. Tears chased by a battered and broken heart keep screaming out through tiny slits in swollen lids.
Oh Jesus! Pitiful weeping sends me to depths way over my head. I don’t know what to do. It is a blessing that only you can hear these excruciatingly painful words as I bare my soul in this watery haven.
I must rinse off and go, Lord. I am so hurt. Please, help! I love you.
Tuesday
Good morning, precious Father in Heaven. Your confused child is a little more coherent today. I still don’t know what to do, but talking with you like this seems to wash away my fears. Help me to scrub off blinding dirt that prevents the purity of truth from shining through.
May I just repeat your Holy Name until I feel some of that peace that passes all understanding? I am desperately weary and can barely stand up under the outpouring of this restorative liquid of life that falls gently on my upturned face.
It must grieve you when your children forget to remember what comfort there is in confessing to you, our Creator and Lord, and in your immediate forgiveness.
It is so quiet in here. I don’t want to go but there is a strong possibility I am already resembling a much-maligned fruit: the prune. Rest beckons me.
Wednesday
Lord, today this sweet smelling baby shampoo causes my neglected and unwieldy tresses to smile again. You said a woman’s hair is her crowning glory. What a blessing to be a daughter of the King.
Dear Jesus, I praise your Holy name. Thank you for loving me. I am beginning to feel a new calmness in my spirit.
Hey, Stop! Who’s using the hot water? I cannot stand this ice-cold assault to my eyes. On second thought, it is kind of refreshing.
Very funny, Lord. I get it. Sometimes your most ardent followers need a wake-up call. I hear. Okay, I am invigorated and off to take a few steps toward forgiveness, a lonely place where we all falter.
These special times with you are like floating in a mountain stream on a warm day, surrounded by the hush of fragrant pines. Another thing, I don’t think I have ever been cleaner in my life.
Thursday
Oh most Holy one, my wailing and gnashing of teeth are subsiding and today I will simply bask in this recuperative flow for which I am most thankful. Only you can hear me whisper or whimper or scream for guidance across the gut- wrenching bumps on my well-planned route. You are the Rock of my salvation. Bless Your precious name forever.
Friday
Father, Father, Father. Are you still near? Attacks of stress and confusion keep hitting me like fiery darts. There is only one way out of this awful appointment with reality: just press on through. The most comforting part is, you are right by my side.
Thank you for giving me a place to retreat within walking distance of my life. I pray for Your will in every aspect of this almost unbearable anguish. Tomorrow will be a turning point. Lord, have mercy...
Saturday
It has been an unbelievable day. I seek the sanctuary of a warm shower to ease the aching and to send unrepentant grime down the drain. I look forward to a refreshing night’s sleep.
Look Jesus, no tears. They must have escaped to the sewage treatment plant; the same place the residue of today’s intensive labor has gone. Thank you.
Sunday
Hooray. It’s the Sabbath. Of course, you already know that don’t you Father?
I am not as dirty this morning as I was last night, but in all honesty Sir, this is such a grand place to sing. The acoustics are wonderful and no one can hear me but you.
I am so thankful for new strength to face the music in a way that is a powerful witness .You have washed me white as snow. I am filled up with your Holy Spirit and feeling strong. I am ready to move forward.
Please accept this lyrical sacrifice of praise to your Holy name. I come to the garden alone to worship His Majesty. Oh, how sweet the sound.
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