Psalm 55:4–8 “My heart is sore pained within me: and the terrors of death are fallen upon me. Fearfulness and trembling are come upon me, and horror hath overwhelmed me. And I said, Oh that I had wings like a dove! for then would I fly away, and be at rest. Lo, then would I wander far off, and remain in the wilderness. (Selah) I would hasten my escape from the windy storm and tempest.”
We are desperate for the Lord, and we surrender that which is His. He may have all of me, and I may have all of Him. But sometimes we stop short of receiving the fulness intended, and His plan is delayed within our hearts. It may be the attacks from enemies, or the distraction of that which is loudest and competes for our attention. Yet we stand in awe of His promises, and desire an expedient delivery of His presence, His fragrance from our prayers.
Glory has a habit of touching us, when we least expect it and then we become undone. Beloved, know the Father, know the Son, and know the Holy Spirit. Run within the frame that is laid out before you, and not the rough road that is parallel, but the smooth path set straight by His love. Let His Glory be a direction in which you set your course, that drives you to its destination. Blast past those obstacles placed in your way.
Move through the song sung over you, that you might dance the way that David did. Let that freedom of worship break into your old habits, and dash them to the floor. There they will lay broken, until angels sweep them to the door of your heart — never to be seen again. Cherish the fragrance that lingers at His approach and departure, and realize a closeness you have never experienced before. Watch those around you, fall more in love with the Father as you lift your hands and voice in holy adoration reaching new levels of praise.
He carried your burden, and does not want you to pick it back up. Instead leave your cares with Him, and do not succumb to the nature of the beast, but instead bring that darkness into submission of the Light, the Righteousness of God. Give your life in ways you have never thought possible. Be released from earth’s hold on your spirit, for it belongs to the Father who created it and deposited it. You are not like the others, but a diamond of such beauty, that all would like to be like you, endeavoring to worship the King.
You have given yourself to the song that is in you. So you sing, “You show me mercy, you show me mercy . . . “
Oh that I had wings like a dove . . .