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Don’t send me, Lord.

I’m not ready.

Sure, You showed me how it feels to be sick, broke and tired, and how to stand up while on your knees.

You showed me what it’s like to have nowhere to turn but not to stand still.

You showed me that when you’re running on empty, you can survive on fumes and faith.

Just don’t send me yet.  Give me more time.

Even though I didn’t know if I’d have a pillow to lay my head on at night, I’ve leaned on Your promises.

But please.   Don’t send me until I’m the person You intended me to be.

Don’t ask me to step up until I’m shored up by Your spirit.

Don’t tell me it was all preparation, and now it’s time to take that leap of faith.

Okay.  If You give me the Word, I’ll go.

Send me Lord.  I’m ready.

Have a Mary Little Christmas

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