From the Deep

Isaiah 37:16 "O Lord Almighty, God of Israel, enthroned between the cherubum, you alone are God over all the kingdoms of the earth. You have made heaven and earth."

Isaiah 64:8 "Yet, O Lord, you are our Father. We are the clay, you are the potter; we are all the work of your hand."


You, Lord God formed me in my mother's womb. You destined my life before my first breath. You planned me for an earthly father who would wander off, and for an earthly mother who would be broken by that. You designed me to be painfully without siblings.

I have no lap to lay my head. No hands to stroke my hair. You fashioned this for your purpose. That I would seek you. Thank you. Oh mercy.

You alone, in your perfect will, designed that I would bare a child before I would even have 2 sturdy legs to stand. You knew and allowed that I would follow many a trecherous path, that I would seek approval in dark corners and that I would sell off little pieces of myself with every deal I made with this world. And you would collect all of those little pieces and sew me back together with the same tender hands that wove me from the first. You love me. Oh mercy.

You delivered me to and delivered me from friends who would shame me and suck me dry. You lifted me out of dry despair and replanted me in a garden where I could grow. You introduced me to other women who love you with the same wild heart that I have. Ones that are held together by your glue, after being shattered into bits. Oh mercy.

Your greatest plan for my life has been that you would cross my path with a man who baffles me and utterly wears me thin. You fashioned him to tolerate me and you fashioned me to somehow keep my fists to myself. You designed that we would plant and grow seeds of our own, to nurture with your sweet and steady love. You've set a test before us that my prayer is we can pass. Equip us now with the mystery that is you, and prepare our miracle. I beseech thee. Oh mercy.

You Lord God know the number of my tomorrows. You know how many belly laughs will burst forth from me and you know the tears that will fall, both publicly and privately. You know the wounds that will heal while I breathe, and the ones you will heal only when I am in your arms. You carry me and you cover me. You shield me and you let me loose. And even when I fail to follow you, you come with. I know you do, because how else could you be so right there when I come rushing back? Joshua 1:5 "No one will be able to stand up against you all the days of your life. As I was with Moses, so I will be with you; I will never leave you nor forsake you." Oh mercy.

You are the potter. I am your clay. Clay in your hands, being formed until your work in me is done. Until your masterpiece that is me is finished, long after I am gone.

Thank you God for my thoughts and my heart that treks along the path, peeking behind every tree and under every rock in search of your glory. Thank you for your Son and His mercy seat.