The Chase

In my room on a Saturday, I seek.

                                 
I would have jumped out of bed and into a chase to get enough stuffed into a Saturday--you know, the amount that can make me feel good about it all at the end of the day.  But, before my feet reached down to the old gray floor I saw Him there, or I felt Him there with me, which has somehow become the same thing. So I spoke to Him and I asked Him to speak to me.  💗

 And I saw Him at the well, dipping cool water out for me. And waters rippled with the touching, and stirred with the dipping.  I heard His tender tone inviting me to linger there, to sit a spell in cool fellowship. Oh, where is the pull of the chase now?  What better could I achieve in the flurry? In the hurry?

And in the conversation, and in the fellowship of God to man, appears an inspiration for a Saturday.  It's a gift tucked in with all the ability, motivation, and time right inside . The chase is replaced, and something better takes root in me.  This root is powered in soil--not in a woman's fretting, and in air, not a lady's hurried pace,  and light, not my own might.  Like a key that started a motor, or the wings of the hang glider caught up in a thermal, the ease of moving on into a Saturday comes in peaceful, tranquil delight--lifted by an inspiration-- lobbed into my hands with the ease of a dream.  Him in me and I in Him.  His life, like an easy flowing river moving me along in mine.  The chase is replaced.

I'm ready to set my feet down on the old gray floor now, and step into a Saturday.