Tag: drawing near

It’s me again, Lord.
Same fragile frame, same deep thirst,
slipping back to this sacred stillness
where grace already knows my name.

I bring nothing but the ache
I’ve carried like a secret stone,
and a longing so raw it has no words—
just the lean of my heart toward yours,
like a plant bending toward a window
it can not see but somehow knows it is there.

I am not here to ask for answers,
not here to list my losses or my lacks.
I am here because the distance
has grown too heavy to hold,
and I need to feel you close—
not in doctrine, not in promise,
but in presence.
The kind that settles warm on tired skin,
that stills the restless questions,
that wraps around my solitude
and calls it home.

Draw near, Lord.
Let the space between us thin
until I breathe what you breathe,
until the silence is not empty but full of you.
This is all I want.
This is all I’ve ever wanted.
You, closer than my own breath,
nearer than the ache I walked in with.

Thank you for stopping by and spending time here. Your presence truly means the world to me. If this piece resonated with you, feel free to like, share, comment, or reblog—I’d love to hear your heart. Until we meet again in this space, I’m sending you love and abundant blessings.

With grace and truth,
Fay Ann Swearing