He moves mountains, and that mountain was me.

Climb every mountain,
Cross every sea,
Follow the rainbow,
Until you find your dream.

The mountain of self.
A culture obsessed with the climb.
The sea of success.
Following a promise.
A dream, a destination.

…
But.
What promise?
What dream?
…

The walls caved, the rocks were chipped, chipped, refined in the light of day. The mountain was ripped away. The rocks were returned, shattered. Perspective battered. The sharp edges of truth, the blades of true majesty. The mountain higher than any dream, any sense of self, any success or the next thing inviting us to obsess.

Wait.
Chip, chip.
Break, Break.
A new creation.
By grace.
Through faith.
In Spirit and in truth.
Structure for eternal use.
Refined through fire. 
Set aside.

For the kingdom, the power, and the glory are all yours, Lord.

He takes the dreams and makes them his. He takes the desires and ignites them with his love. He completes. He provides. He satisfies. He destroys the strongholds, habits, false truths and identities. He breaks away all idols and redeems the heart by his mercy. He removes all attachment and secures a new patchwork. He sends his son, Jesus Christ, to cover over every sin.

For his name is to be praised, he is the everlasting for all days.

Holy is His Name. The Name above all Names. He pursues you relentlessly. A child born of love. He calls you to intimacy. To run to his embrace again and again. He runs with you. He runs for you.

I raise my eyes to the mountain. The mountain I thought was me. But I am not a god. I do not even deserve to climb, for I am not worthy to stand on my own two feet. I raise my eyes. To the One seated on high. I lift my eyes. Where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord. The maker of all. My help comes from him. I am a ruin because of the fall. There is no infrastructure for my feet if I think the mountain is me. There is no hope, no dreams, if the rainbow is not a promise from the One who holds eternity.

In the valley I see. In the valley is where I am free. To look. To see. To hear. To truly believe. To seek his face. The mountain, the formation of his grace. In this valley of life I look to him. The mount of majesty. The tip that transcends temporality. The Glorious One over the grave. The One who makes a way to be saved, to climb the heights towards his embrace.

Your ways are higher, greater, stronger, mightier than me Lord!

How feeble are these feet! Running after the wrong dreams. When you Lord are the only hope in times of need. It is not for me to reach for the stars, to achieve my dreams. No. It is only for me to reach for you, to worship you in Spirit and in truth.

I surrender myself at his wise and wonderful feet. The feet that know the way, even in the darkest day. The feet that I can follow, his footprint the Word written on my heart. His mountain of grace is before me. The world is behind me. The Cross is where I will follow him. This is his pilgrimage for me.

He has gifted me by his generosity.
He has clothed me in authenticity.
He has secured my hope in him.
He has brought me here for a season.
To blossom.
To bloom.
He has given me a mission mentality. 
I do not often know what to do, or where to go. 
But he holds my heart, he directs my path.
This life is his. 
I am here for him. To release my offering. 
My fragrance for my King. 

I am a passing flower in the valley of life.
I release petals of praise, all for his Name.
I seek to shine in light of his love,
To reveal his glory from above.
My flower face is turned upwards
Towards his mountain of grace.
The faith that moves.
That shakes.
That is humbled.
That replaces my weight.
For his firm embrace.