The past few days, I either haven’t had my usual morning time, or the entries have been specific and personal and not something intended for sharing with a wider audience. Often after my usual here’s-what-is-going-on-with-me, and here-is-what-the-weather-is, and here-is-what-I-plan-to-do-today I will write, Oh, Lord, what would You say? So Lord, what would You say? What would You tell those reading this?
Tell them I love them. Tell them to trust their senses–in their own way, each is very sensitive. Tell them, this isn’t meant to be so hard. There are lots of reasons why it’s become so–individual reasons and cultural reasons–but My intention all along was to be and stay connected, like holding hands. Sometimes you need a little squeeze, for reassurance. Sometimes you need a strong, steady grip for support. Sometimes you need a massage, stretching out each finger, for release, or for healing. Sometimes you need those hands to gently take over a load, a burden, you weren’t meant to carry at all, just take that load, put it down somewhere, and knead the knotted, gnarled knuckles back into suppleness.
If I could breathe one word into the human heart, that one word would be “gentleness.” People have twisted “God is love” into horrible, punishing circumstances and called it Me, called it My intent, My will. How about, God is Gentleness? Or, God is Tenderness? Maybe that provides a better picture. Maybe folks would trust themselves, trust joining their lives, to One Whose Name is Gentleness.