come by here.
it's the word my soul speaks in the darkness when i'm reaching out into seeming nothingness and i'm empty and the dark night of soul is pressing in tighter and tighter.
it's the dance of the soul bathed in light as joy comes bringing in the morning with a laugh and a whisper of better things, beautiful things made new like He promised.
it's a silly song, one that every little child can sing by the time they've seen five summers. the words are used to mock, even, those who seem to want to lower weapons and hold hands across enemy lines. but it's more than that.
oh Lord, come by here.
it's the rings in the tree, repeated and widened year after year. it's that knitted line in the scarf, threads woven by hand that speak of love when wrapped around neck and palms. it's the sacred footsteps of the seeker who has nothing left, the nomad who wanders the desert to find the spring of water and sits in the shadow of Him that sees.
for I have stood in the presence of the God who sees me.
a word transforming.
it is come by here, Lord. it's a little girl crying come find me, Daddy.
and El Roi, the God who sees, Abba Daddy. oh, He comes running.
it's more than a firelight song. it's a heart's burning cry.
it's the breath of our lungs.