The Way You Move

It’s so raw and so real—what You do in each of our lives, Father, through each other. How you’re waking us up, showing us ourselves in all our sickness, and the new people You’re making us to be—slowly. . . inexorably.

It’s raging and gentle, forceful and quiet, this way You show us grace every day of our lives. You’re in the business of re-creation, of shaping and molding men and women bent on self-love. You made us for Yourself, and You sate our restless hearts with Your sufficiency when we’ve drunk from the well of the world and come away parched. We deny our need, but You pursue us, hound us, and You never let us go—all for the sake of Your dear Son, whose righteousness we bear.

You give us the good we so often resist, and amidst all the plains and valleys You’re conforming us to the perfection of Your will.

Your name is our hope in the face of danger and pain, prosperity and gladness. For You defend Your own against all foes—even themselves. You are strong on our behalf, and in the face of Your extravagant grace all fear for the future subsides. For You will grant strength; You offer hope. This world is hopelessly lost, yet You have established Your Word forever in all faithfulness. We expect the darkening, but You teach us also to look for the light, for Your hand at work. Darkness is as light to You. . .

Teach us, Father, to hope against hope;

To stake our trust in You alone.

“You’re like a Lion standing in my house

and You’re taking off the doors on Your way in.

I got nothing left to hide behind.

You’re reading all my faith and all my fear in my eyes.

All my pride, You know it doesn’t stand a chance

against the way You move.”*

*Audrey Assad, The Way You Move