How hard is it to watch your calendar burn?
Watching the flames consume my time tables.
Holding my breath, waiting for what I perceive to be my turn.
I see windows closing on my exit route.
The smoke only prolongs my planned way out.
But Your fire is eating my faith-suffocating doubt.
Jesus,
The fire fed by my schedule will live on an alter.
My time tables are kindling to the sacrifice that I offer.
Jesus, your invitation to spend time waiting with you does not falter.
My closed windows leave space for you to lead me to an open door.
Jesus, let the smoke born of me surrendering control be a fragrance that pleases you.
All I want is to reach for the Man whose eyes are on fire as my knees ware down their spots on the floor.
Amen.