There are days and there are seasons. If you seek, you will find. If you knock, the door will be opened for you. I wandered to a Bus Stop that revived my soul.
It was a Bus Stop I never thought existed, a stop where you look and you listen and you stop in your tracks. Am I really here? Is this a Bus Stop of fairy tales, a harlequin romance or a true Song of Solomon?
My heart is confused, my stomach is in knots and my mind says I’m not worthy. I cannot eat but I really want pancakes filled with little blue berries or miniature kisses of chocolate.
Am I in the middle of a fairy tale or am I in the path that follows His footsteps? Is it the will of God or the flesh screaming and taunting?
Then we have the issue of my pearls. Genuine pearls from my earthy father which was once given to a swine. A painful experience which tore me to shreds and threw me in a pit. A pit I’ve climbed out of slowly and meticulously. I’ve reached the mountaintop now and my priceless pearls are back and shimmering, but for who?
I want my Adam. I want to be Eve. I want no fig leaves between us. I want to be exposed heart, spirit and soul. But its risky business and frightening and dangerous.
Do I let down my hair? Will his kiss awaken me and release me from my slumbers? Do I tell my heart to beat again? Or do I just breathe and wait for his call?
Is this a moment in time that I treasure or is this moment only the beginning? I heard the Song of Solomon playing in my head. I felt beloved at his gentle caress.
I do not want to be a Jezebel or a woman at a well. I want to be loved. I want my Michelangelo to perfect the beauty that God gave me. I want my Michelangelo to see past my imperfections and embrace my beauty within.
I want to be equally yoked; I want the Son to shine on my love. I want my own Song of Solomon. I have cried in the night for that kind of love. But there are many little treasures that need to be thought of and loved and cared for continuously. There are many hearts involved that need to be considered on this quest.
The equation is complicated and not God’s design. God has held my hand and carried me through. My Jesus has loved me when I felt unlovable. My children’s bright smiles were the only light in my day. Jesus spoke through them and I was healed. I have overcome. I am new. I am refreshed. But am I ready to cross the threshold and open a new door?
So I am waiting at The Bus Stop, full of anticipation of what is coming around the corner. Will my chariot arrive? What form will it take? Will I grasp the reigns and step beside him?
What Bus Stop are you at today? Has your chariot arrived or are you still waiting? Do you have Solomon’s Song singing in your heart?