I want to Inherit the Wind

​I want to Inherit the Wind

I want to inherit the wind. The wind! Yes, so I can find myself where I choose.
I don’t have to be anybody’s prisoner. Lock in anyone’s case or perception of who I should be, where I should go, what I should do.

I want to inherit the wind. The wind! Yes, so I can find myself where I choose.
I will take my problems and the masks I wear and scattered them in the wind. Sit on a high mountain and watch my shackles smashed in the wind. I would laugh hard and deep as the wind destroy them as they destroyed me.

I want to inherit the wind. The wind! Yes, so I can find myself where I choose.
I would grab hold the shame I bore. The baggages heaped on my back. The anchor attached to my soul that denied me elevation, denied me breath, denied me peace. Off to the wind I would blow them with fierce anger and resentment. I would send the wind after them like the dogs they send after me that devoured. Ravished me.

I want to inherit the wind. The wind! Yes, so I can find myself where I choose.
I would throw rocks at the ceiling, crack the ceiling, drill holes, watch it cave in, loose the wind in it to uproot the foundation of this vile temple of lies. Deception. The lies that told to me and spoken over me. Lies that ensnared me. Disempowered me. Deprive me hope. They were like leeches that sucked me dry left me barren and desolate.

I want to inherit the wind. The wind! Yes, so I can find myself where I choose.
I will float in the air for a while and rest my head on the clouds as the wind blow softly over me and ever so gently removing layers upon layers of what I was until I’m completely naked. My soul exposed so the Son can burn away the debris, the excess that weighed me down.

I want to inherit the wind. The wind! Yes, so I can find myself where I choose.
Oh that he may wash me with hyssop and on my wounds the balms of Gilead. That he would take earth mixed with the Word and open my eyes. Like the blind men that He would ask me, what I will of Him. I would response “if that will, make me whole.” And He would respond with healing and wholeness. He would command me “Talita Cummi” Maiden Arise!

I want to inherit the wind. The wind! Yes, so I can find myself where I choose.
I would mount the wings of the wind to find myself in His tabernacle that I may inquire in His temple. To be known in His courts as Beloved. To sit at His table not as a guest but as His own. That His precious blood would be my claim to the royal lineage that s heir of God and joint heir with Christ and I would inherit more the wind.
​
Sandra Garcon Degerville

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