octolilly [through the years]

On the surface not a ripple

Undercurrent wages war

Quiet in the sanctuary

Sin is crouching at my door

I wake to find my soul in fragments
Given to a thousand loves

But only One will have no rival
Hangs to heal me, spills His blood

Curse-reversing Day of Jesus
When You finally seize my soul
Freedom from myself will be
The sweetest rest I’ve ever known

How can I be so prone to wander

So prone to leave You
So prone to die

And how can You be so full of mercy

You race to meet me and bring me back to life

Paul and Adrienne are not the only ones to have traversed through the Rodanthe. The steady gale, the hammering rain and the all too familiar surprising hunger are very near. Once I finished the book I found myself stumbling to the piano. There was an obsession I have never felt before as I caressed the keys. If you would have stood in the doorway and listened through my quiet sobbing, I doubt you would have known the song. It is written in a delicious minor and only when you are halfway through the song does the melody ring clear. Great is thy faithfulness. That truth is the only solid factor I can rest upon. He who has led me thus far will lead me on. The Rodanthe-like manner in which He is choosing to lead me makes no sense to others. I trust Him.