Extravagant Love // Receive, Rest, & Rejoiceنموونە

Untangled

In the break of morning, as sunlight falls gently on flowers not yet opened, know that I fall softly, too. I am the light that covers all the land. Some flowers stretch their stems high to be covered by the light. Some are tangled in weeds that block the light from reaching their faces. And darkness is what covers.

But light filters through all darkness, child.

There is no thing that cannot be untangled. There is a way out from the mess of secrets and distorted truths, from a focus on treasures that sap energy from weary roots rather than let sweet water flow.

I reach down with my hands and untangle the mess—creating order from disorder. But all can get tangled again.

The light is above you. Stand tall. Rise to it. I show you where it is.

Roots are thirsty. Let them drink and not be choked. You are cared for in your own place, with my hand tending you, my light touching you, my word quenching your thirst. To get untangled, you must focus on Me. You must stand straight and tall in my light, wanting it to touch you.

You must want Me to touch you.

You must want Me to care for you. You must want Me to give you what you need and be willing to bear the adjustments of untangling.

In what are your roots tangled? How are your leaves too close to weeds that they wither from lack of sufficient light? Do you want Me to show you? Do you let Me untangle you? Do you want to stretch upwards, away from this mess I did not create for you to thrive in?

Will you let yourself be transferred and replanted in rich, fertile soil?