Alabaster Box

Beautiful friends, here is an excerpt from I Thought I Knew What Love Was. It was written during a time of worship and contemplation on all God has done. He is so worthy of our love and pure devotion. I hope you are encouraged and inspired. God bless you. You are deeply loved.

Alabaster, Copyright 2011 © Erin Lamb.
Written August 11, 2010
“Love Letter to Abba.”

I hear the sound of Your footsteps,
in the corridor of my soul.
You can see through the walls,
knowing what my hands hold.
It is there that I gather
all that I have
and all that I am;
placing aspirations,
dreams,
and fragments of any good,
into a box of alabaster to be poured out for You.
I feel the wind of Your presence
and with its gentle touch,
single tear drops are whisked away,
for Your love means so much.
My heart is hurried,
so as not to miss one second with You.
One moment in Your presence
and this heart is renewed.
You move me.
You stir my soul,
and it begins to dance.
I know You.
We have met here before.
You walked through the shadows,
stepped over the broken glass,
moved past the walls I built,
and You offered a love that would last.
It was You, alone, who heard my silent cries
while the world continued to pass and walk on by.
The anguish that they did not see,
You felt deep inside.
In compassion,
You met me where I was
with love and mercy in Your eyes.
It was there I met You,
so long ago,
with baskets of shattered wishes
and sighs of desperation.
We met in the hallways of my broken dreams,
surrounded by what seemed to be nothing.
You sought to fill every empty place.
As love was poured out
there at your feet;
Your love was returned,
and healing took place.
It was You, who saw me,
in the midst of the storm.
It was Your arm
that reached down to rescue me;
with tender care You said, “My love, I will carry you on.”
What can I offer?
What can I give?
All that I have
and all that I am;
I lay it here.
I lay down all that I have,
in its entirety,
poured out and
emptied
from this alabaster box.
I lay my life here at Your feet.
I am humbled by Your extravagant grace
that flows like a waterfall
over an undeserving soul.
Oh how my heart has loved You
because You first loved me.
We walk this path,
hand in hand.
It is You that my heart longs for;
a fire kindles in my heart for more knowledge of You.
Oh, the wonder,
and the mystery in Your eyes!
To know You,
to love You;
what an honor,
and what a joy.
You have filled this once broken vessel
with an expectation of something more.
You have painted Your murals of unfailing love
on the walls,
in the halls,
and have draped Your righteousness over the windows of this soul.
You rebuilt my crumbled devastated foundation
and sealed every empty space with Your love.
This heart is Your home.
What else can I desire,
but to dwell with You in this place?
In the darkness, You were my light.
In my hurting, it was Your arms that held me tight.
In my joyfulness,
it was You who danced
and sang songs of praise.
It was You who said You’d love me for all of my days.
In my times of crisis, it was You who refused to let go.
In my fear and isolation,
it was You who reached down into my valley.
You cleared out the debris and the dust,
and You breathed life into every part.
It was You;
it has always been You.
Here,
in this moment,
with tears of gratitude,
I pour out
all that I have,
to say that I love You,
and to say that I need You.
I am here saying, “There is no one who can take Your place.”
They may not understand
why, when I think of Your love,
the wellspring of tears seems to flow and flow.
But they weren’t there when You saw and came to my rescue.
They don’t know how much it cost
for You to stand in my place;
as Redeemer,
as Savior,
as Healer,
and as friend.
As You have laid down Your life,
let my offering to You be a pleasing sacrifice
and a fragrant aroma of love.
Let my love be
a symbol of my appreciation,
for a life Your love did spare.
May my love for You grow and grow.
May my passion for You never grow cold.

All rights reserved. No part of the material may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, without the written permission of the Publisher, Westbow Press (www.westbowpress.com), or Author, Erin Lamb. The only exception is in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

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