I just want to watch you do what you do…

How I long to sit beside you, watching. Hoping you won’t notice me.

That I could just watch you do what you do.

I’d love to just watch you from the side, observing every outline of you. Watching your eyes blink and lashes flutter as you pray to your father. I’d love to watch your hair move with the wind as you stare out across the land and tear up with compassion for the people. I’d love to see the early morning sunrise kiss your face. Just don’t take notice of me.

I just want to watch you do what you do.

As crowds come from near and far to see what all the fuss is about and religious leaders come to watch you fall…

I want to watch you do what you do.

My gaze will follow you as you get down and write on the sand. I’ll watch you…and long to know your deepest thoughts. Don’t take notice of me.

I just want to watch you do what you do.

I want to watch you sigh and look up to heaven. Pleading for heaven’s healing to fall. I long to see the kindness in your eyes as you look upon sinners. I want to watch your arms reach to the sick, the dying, the poor and the leper. Not a shake, not an ounce of hesitation…just love acted out in strength. Don’t take notice of me just yet,

I just want to watch you do what you do.

I just want to be a witness of your service. I want to watch you get up out of your seat, wrap a towel around your waist and wash their feet. I want to watch you laugh, eat and share stories around the table with tax collectors.

I pray they would never take notice of me.

But teach me to do what you do so well. So when others see me…they would just sit and stare…seeing you instead.

Not wanting to be noticed,

but happy to sit and watch YOU do what you do.

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Crossing Boundaries

fence

Boundary |ˈbound(ə)rē|

noun ( pl. boundaries )

“a line that marks the limits of an area; a dividing line.

the boundaries of acceptable behavior”

When I was young and free in my mind, there was a particular place that seemed so spacious to me. I felt free to explore it and run freely in it. I longed to go to its deepest corners and rest there. Nothing, absolutely nothing was considered out of bounds or unopened to me. Even in the farthest edges, I never felt lost or far from home.

However, life has moved me far away from this place and I have been taught there are boundaries that I had apparently crossed time and time again. I was told the key to being free was logic and the way to be safe and secure was to build a shelter in the midst of my hurt.

Bounds, limits, margins, edges, fringes, periphery, perimeter… I feel my breath getting shorter and restricted…partition, fenceline, division, confines, borderline.

There is a place far from here, but it seems too far from the shelter I’ve built for myself. What if I get tired on the way? What if that ‘other’ place really doesn’t exist and I’m just let down again? What if that place is strangely not as comfortable as being here…in my confines? What if, like they say, I’ve experienced too much hurt to ever really be free again? So I’ll sit here and convince my self that this place is the best for me. These walls are protecting me and helping me live out these days the best way I possibly can. I’ll be…well. I’ll be ok. I’ll be fine right here. I may not be missing out on anything at all! Yeah, I’m probably not.

I feel a soft breeze dance into my shelter and surround me. Can I really risk staying here and never knowing what lies ahead…just beyond that boundary? What if it’s ultimate freedom and I miss out because my fear leaves me here; trapped in despair? I’m going to give it a try… It might actually be really quick and I’ll be back before anything goes wrong.

Squinting my eyes from light I have not known in so long; I can only just notice a figure in the distance. It seems like he’s waiting for me to come closer. Maybe he’ll help me to freedom. Maybe he’ll help me find better shelter. I hesitantly walk closer to him, hoping…wondering.

I am freedom

I could hear the words in the wind like they were meant just for me.

I am the way to freedom…follow me out of your darkness and into my light.

But…has life not taught me that I’m too old? Too weary and have known too much? Freedom surely is not for me to have.

I have come that you may have life and have it abundantly

My legs are weak. I’m afraid and unsure I can even go any further. Comfort is back there and the unknown surrounds me now.

With me there is freedom and I have come to set the captive free.

I don’t feel like a captive…I was absolutely fine. I was told I shouldn’t cross the boundaries and now I realize I should’ve obeyed. I should’ve done all the ‘acceptable’ and ‘right’ things.

The boundaries you’ve had were no more than prison bars. My burden is light and my yoke is easy. The world has put heavy burdens and back-breaking yokes on you…take mine.

He’s right. I feel strength come back to my feet and I can breathe freely again. As I get closer to him, I can see his face more clearly. His eyes are filled with tears. He sounded so strong and sure…why is he crying?

How I’ve longed for you to break free of the bondages that wrap around your neck. Now you are free…free indeed. Follow me.

I will follow you. Past the edges, confines, perimeters. Past the fence and way past my shelter. I will follow freedom; I will follow HIM.

A lady long ago pressed out of the boundaries of religion and rules. She found healing there. She found freedom there. SHE FOUND JESUS THERE.

Luke 8:42b-48