Thursday, February 12, 2015

Warmth



I'm lifting up my sincerest thanks to You, Lord!
Today, I hope that as I look up the sky,
my smile would beam the heavens.

I woke with Your embrace in the cold morning,
the first warmth I felt before sunrise.
The moment my mother saw me open my eyes, 
she sang me a Happy Birthday.
I thought it may almost be akin to the first time
she saw me open my little eyes to the world.

My sister whom I slept beside with
gently touched my head as a greeting.
My eldest sister gave me a crazy song and dance number.
My father greeted me and rejoiced with me
as I faced a day of birthday leave.

When I picked up my phone and unlocked it,
more greetings, I love you's, 
and heartfelt messages welcomed me. 
Unworthy I was, for I never thought I am that loved. 
I know it was a teaching on gratitude,  Lord. 
Oh, my mornings never felt that warm!

Lord, You've walked with me through these years,
rocky, steep or narrow the paths had been.
You have never left me,
nor lifted Your gaze upon me.

Certainly, even by the time my memory fails me, 
I won't forget the warmth of Your hands. 
Your hands that molded me, 
the first that touched my cheek when I was born. 
Your hands that held me and helped me to my feet 
when I was learning to walk.
Your hands that comforted me when I was in pain.
Your hands that tapped my back when I was feeling down. 
Your hands that're holding mine now
as I continue to tread the earth.

Lord, if there's one thing I must celebrate on my birthday,
it's the fact that You chose me,
me against the infinite possibility!
This feeble sinful me,
who You knew would hurt you,
but still chose to share Your warmth with.