You are the God of impossible things.

In a desert dry, devoid of streams,

You cause water to flow, and rocks burst forth springs.

Among thorns, twisted vines that choke and deceive,

You transform with Truth to ivy vines green.

The handful of sour scuppernongs handed to me,

You recreate to sun-warmed and ripened blueberries.

You can do such things!

You are the God of impossible things.

. . . . . . .

“I can heal you,” You tell my heart that has sat here so long.

And like the paralytic of 38 years lying by the pool, You ask me:

“Do you want to become well?” (John 5:6b)

Do I want to become well? Why, of course. What kind of question is this?

But You know being made well means getting up and living.

It means a new way of thinking and doing.

Surprisingly, sometimes we get so comfortable sitting in (and thinking about and talking about) even the things that have caused us the most pain and trouble.

Do I want to be made well?

Not, do I want to sweep it under the rug and avoid it? That’s not healing nor dealing.

Do I want to truly be made well?

Because the God of the Heaven can pour down refreshing rain and flood our hearts and minds, filling in all of our well-worn, too often traveled, deep mental and emotional ruts of thinking and feeling and lead us down a new path of life that is repaved with peace and joy and Truth and transformation.

Am I ready for this?

You can do this.

You are the God of impossible things.