The preacher spoke
of  God’s deep love for me,
how cherished I am
and that God can be completely trusted
with my life.

Sitting still, listening,
I could feel my spirit begin to stir,
to push against my unmoving body,
compelling a response.

I began to trace letters with my finger
on my resting arm,
on my palm,
T . . . R . . . U . . . S . . . T . . .

willing it into myself,
bringing it to life in that moment
in the only way I could think of,

spelling the word over and over
into my hand,
an Annie Sullivan,
to my own Helen Keller,
desperately trying to connect,
to break through —

you are in a prison
of which you are not even aware
and I am placing in your hand
the key

stop fighting
be still
let your spirit be tuned
to hear God’s voice
let your heart quicken
to the call
let this word
permeate deeply
into your very soul

dare to place your life
in God’s hands
take now
this leap of faith



One thought on “Trust

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