In the light

This morning God. 

There was going to be a sentence on the end of that but it just looked better on it's own. This morning God. That's pretty much it. I feel as if I'm standing in front of a tree in which lovers initials have been carved. Observing a place where someone's love left it's mark, making an ordinary tree into a sacred spot that says "we were here, and we felt deeply in this spot and moment." God carved my name and his into this morning, and it became a place to be remembered. He told me to seek out the light, to look at it differently when it hit things. To find it, and sit in it. To remember that his presence is as warm and real as light on my skin, on my journal pages, on my coffee. 

So I found the light. 

And I found God.

Can I sit for awhile, under Your smile, and not say a word? 

Cause the cry of my hear is to be set apart, and I know You've heard.

I will trust, and believe that You've washed me clean, and I'm pleasing You.

Could I sit at Your feet, feel Your gaze upon me, as I trust Your near? Tears fill my eyes as I realize that You're wanting me.

I don't want to be anywhere else than by Your side. 

I don't want to be anything less than pure in Your eyes.