My praise for you starts in the fog lest I sin and my praise turn into a curse when a storm marches in.
How small my life seems now as each day passes that I gaze at your beauty.
You lead me in your path and if I were to doubt which way to go, my courage overflows knowing that even if I were to stumble, you, O God, keep me from shame.
Even if the whole world were to turn against me, they are as nothing when I am holding your hand.
You have loved me beyond my comprehension, giving me my heart’s desire.. or making your desire for me mine. I don’t know which.
You loved me when not even one could be found.
You loved me when even I didn’t seek to be found.
I raised my fist at you, spat at your name. A wretched soul mercifully being moulded.
Every step is lovely with you, O father of heavens and earth, even the day I close my eyes starts as a beginning with you. Ever so joyful, ever so in love.
Sorrow is to sweet honey when your arms comfort me and draw me closer to you.
Loneliness is to still waters when I hear your gentle voice, telling me of old as I marvel at all that you’ve created.
Drudgery is to smooth ice as I become new over and over again to every mundane task and every morning.
My foolishness you’ve made a courageous path and it is all good because it is all you.
You light up my soul, you ignite my brittle bones, you breathe life into my flesh and my blood is renewed again.
The burden of sin is not one I can even imagine, even a small shadow in me is quick sand to my feet.

And yet you accept my weak praise and my feeble “thank you” because you know that what you deserve I’m not capable of until I am fully realized.
You set me free of what I know as me. My feet are on firm ground because I no longer lean on me.
You’ve broken the chains of curses I couldn’t even see, not because of my love for you but your love for me.
And so I bow down on my knees and kiss your feet, my God, my father, my husband and my friend.
The king whose majesty could not be hidden with rags, whose bruises could not mar His beauty, whose love could not be conquered by our darkness.
My rags you turn to silk, my bruises you turn to your beauty and my darkness you turn to love.

How sweet the wings of love!