Ponderings from the Pond 2: Where Fire Burns Deep

The moment my foot touches grass, it is as if creation rejoices that I’ve abandoned tile floors…..and entered into natures home. 

The breath inside my lungs expands…..as I am…..

Drawn outdoors.

And I am taken, it seems, by my Makers hand…..To something more.

A picture.  Or a story. I have yet to learn….

And to be still with Him on this stage….His stage of beauty.  My delight.

Listening.

The first steps…..a dance…on water dropped grass.

And I welcome it.  Richly.

The God voice.  The silence ushering in His voice.  

And He meets me….as He always does…..when searching for eternal Kingdoms.

His embrace……the crisp morning dew.  His aroma…..the sweet fragrance of fall. 

A chirping chipmunk announces that I am coming.

Coming where I belong…..where we are all called…..Out into His masterpiece.  To hear the voice of God.

To taste. To see.  To know.  Not just still pictures……But breaths of morning…..

Moving freely…..to His song.

I wait.  Listen.  Anticipate His message.

And see…. 

Maple tree burning bright with only a few leaves clinging tight…..to the only trunk its known it’s entire life.

Not wanting to fall.

And I walk on…..

Apples…..on stick limbs.  Hoping to turn red…..but barely having the strength to stay…..

And wanting a chance to be more that the rotten remnant left on the ground…..decomposed.

Needing tasting or pie making…..or being apart of something more.  But missing it’s chance.

And oh, the painful day….when we know….we have missed our chance. 

And, I walk on.

And I spot…..a fire bush.  Its branches burning bright.

Patchworks of red.

Until finally, the theme here is woven inside my head.   

It’s as if God says…..burn Jen.  Burn Bright.

Yet, back home, from China.  My heart has been like the skies.

Grey.

And the material things of home and stuff and empty treasures that do not contain Christ……just don’t fill me anymore.  

Nothing material.  Superficial.  Man-made.

Have been able to come close to the glory of God…..the miracles I bore witness to…..in China.

And I want to taste the rich red, vibrant apple.  The fruit of life’s fullest table.

I want to see the blossoms of Spring…..as faith burns strong within me.  

I want more than winter coming.

I want the fire to burn like bushes brightly…..not just in me…..

But, in all Creation.  Yearning. 

His artwork preordained to be His glorious mouthpiece.

Yet, I cannot put my heart cry in words…..to people who don’t understand.

To hearts that have been sealed. Or to ears that have been deafened……..by offense.

Wanting safety. Only. And to never take a chance.

And it pains me……that His heartbeat could get lost in a world trying desperately to survive….

Their own personal winters.

Yet, me……knowing…..

It’s not my job to convert them.

We are just His mouth piece….He is the mouth maker.

Heart changer.  Truth barer.  World reacher.

And I must rest.  And trust. And know.

He is capable….to change even the hardest hearts….the toughest of souls.

And with this revelation, duty calls me…..into house.  World beckoning.

But, before turning…..from quiet whispers morning…….Maple tree. Bright red lures me.

And I wonder why the leaves have not stopped clinging.  Why it is still all red.

Why does it holds on through coldest morn?

And I get closer.  Take pictures.

See on one side…..a leaf dangling as if to dismember from the other flaming points.

But it holds on.  It holds on and keeps spins.

And I try to capture it with pictures….but can’t.

It doesn’t stop….but just keeps moving.

And I listen.

Hold on.  Hold on…..burning ones.  Hold onto the place I have put you.  Hold onto the One who made you.

For leaves fallen far only wither.  Disintegrate.  Decompose…..

And return to the tree.  Anyway.

Don’t be those.

Hang on…..

Even if limbs seem barren and lifeless…..

Even if no other leaves cling to branches.  Or all turn colors and start leaving…..the one it’s held to.

Keep the flames burning.  Be the bright red on a gloomiest fall mornings……

For a colorless palette……a dark, dreary remnant…..will not get my name across…..to the world.

Draw man by using the things that I have given.  And spin like the leaf that is clinging to the branch.

Hold on…..

And dance……

With me.

And trust me.  Do you trust me?  For I hold the world in my hands.

So, I strip off boots and coat, and deceptive notions…..that…..

My world.  My life.  My one little leaf……here in American……doesn’t count.

And I rejoice…..and give praise…..

Clinging tighter to my One True Strength.

And begin another day….

Going in my house.

Linking this post w/ Laura