First Light

I feel a burning in my heart.  Usually when God is trying to tell me something.  Sometimes I listen.  Sometimes I ignore it.  It’s usually a sign of something for me. 

I long to listen to the voice that beckons me to come and sit at the feet of Jesus, like Mary.

He told her, it would not be taken from her. She had learned the secret to real living.  Sitting with Jesus, being near Jesus listening to him.  That’s where she would find her fulfillment and be able to live out from.  Her doing would come from simply being with him. (Luke 10:42)

I long for His voice.  Like the voice of the father speaking to my heart.  Directing me to move, dance, write.  Come alive by His word in my heart.

Being awake, present, alive, well.  To allow the difficulties to roll off me like water touching oil. 

He becomes the canvas I paint on.  All desiring color and light.  He creates through me.  He becomes my first light.