Hello.

I keep having to remind myself of this truth in my own life. I long to find a godly husband, and have a family, and etc... and being single/waiting patiently on the Lord is hard—straight up!! Waiting for anything that your heart desires, is hard. And I know a lot of you out there feel this same way. We’re in this together. The Lord will come through with His plans, in His timing, and it will be amazing. Whatever it is, I am trusting that He knows what He is doing.

If I were in the bible, I’d be everything you ever wanted and the one you had to repent of. I’d cut myself with thorns but still chase after my rose. I’d wrestle just as much as the next guy. I’d be the Goliath to every warrior and 

God’s “woman that got away”.

I would die with a canteen of rum in one hand and a prayer in the other, with a man’s kiss on my breast and another Man’s scarred hands for my life. I’d love them both. I’d be all in and all out, not half and half. I’d singe with hot and cold.

I would dance under Bethel’s gods as my spirit craves more like the lions, like Adam’s rib, like angel roars, for a much greater love that exists.

I’d be thrown in the belly of the beast or the den, I’ve made my share of homes in dens before. I’d carve my name on stones to pass the time.

I wouldn’t be the angel visiting type.  And I’d lose it over Delilah. Oh, I’d adore Delilah. I would cherish her more than Samson because I understood her so much more. 

I’d be the king who stuffed his exploding gut, the pride that tore down the villages before drinking away the regret, the nonredeemable on the other side of the street.

I would be the woman in the crowd with an itch I can’t quite reach as Jesus spoke on worthiness in me.  I’d catch His eye and He’d look at me like He found the horizon.

Like if He squinted, the target would go straight through.

Like a bulls-eye was painted on my chest and Cupid’s got nothing on His aim.

And I’d shake with desperation with a longing for Him I couldn’t ever shake off.

I’d have God in my skin even in all of this.  This fight. This life. This tale of my soul as I take off my sandals on all the wrong alters.

I’d be a mess of a mess but I’d still have a place. and a story worth telling.

I am all these things but they were died for. So all these things aren’t me anymore.

@augustnoire