Lately, God has been reminding me that He is my safe place, my latibule.
My peace, my sanity. My gentleness, when I can find none of it in myself.
He's softening my razor sharp tongue, teaching me how to let love flow from my every move, my every word.
He's my source of every good thing, and on the days when I can't open my mouth without cutting and bruising, I am so thankful for that.
I've been experiencing what is it to be down, spread flat out on the ground, and looking up into Jesus' loving eyes, as He unclenches my fists.
Fists that have been attempting to fight their own battles, yeah those fists.
He is so full of gentleness and love, right when I turn my back on Him, that everything in me screams: "I don't deserve this!"
And He whispers right back: "You do, you always have."