My life has a limp and I shuffle along— swift and graceful as a turtle. Other lives have limbs built for speed and run majestically like cheetahs. My heart loathes to lose, but my head is in the game— I will limp on for You, and when I do, I only seem to lose.
Banish, oh my soul, the doubt— the dizzy head, the shaky feet, the tip-toe-hesitate-back-step fear of falling. Steadiness comes— not in your ability to follow— but in His ability to lead. .
The mountains stand so tall— rugged rock against the sky. And You ask me to move them—why? You know my hands are small— they bruise and break and bleed with every strategy I try. And the mountains stand, unmoved. I have no mustard seed— I’ve looked, digging with my hands in my own dirt. And … Continue reading Mountain Moving