There is a rhythm to the spirit’s life in Him, I know there is. A gentle breathing, prayer in, work out, work of faith, labor of love. And left to God and our surrendered selves, I think we’d find this rhythm, once we found our Christ.
But the world has a beat that is strong. And loud. Insistent, persistent. Always accelerating. Interrupting any heavenly rhythm our souls might have. And that makes it a fight. And the fight makes gentleness cease. And I am left with the unsettled fragments of frustration, scattered on the timeclock and the scribbled calendar. Longing for the rhythm.
It’s worth “fighting” for.
Lord and Father of my soul, fill me with Your Spirit as I seek to sink into sync with it. Make its fruit prevail over World’s noisy harassing beat—its fruit including gentleness, subduing the frenetic and spreading the oil of peace over the troubled waters, to turn their frantic roiling into softly lapping waves.
Free-written on the prompt word “Rhythm”
and linked to