Ponderings from the Pond 4: The Voice of God.

Sitting down with the Lord. This time.  Just doesn’t suffice.  So I open the doors.  And am carried outside. Where God speaks best.

Armed with camera.  Total abandonment.  And rejoicing in the goodness of God.  Seeing my son returning after nine months on missions.

Passing by.  Fire pit.  But God-eyes see it different.  This time.  An alter.  An alter of sacrifice.  And I hear Him speak….“Lay it all down on the alter.”

And I know there are things I have yet to give.  Or I have given, but then picked up again….right before they are burned.  Those idolatrous things.

But, I keep walking.  To the edge. The cliff.  The place where tall grass meets newly cut blades.  And I recall when fresh cut was the only thing.  I could see.

But yet, three deer have been our pets.  Out there where the tall grass lay.  Those blades untamed.  The one’s like God made….long before man came. 

So, I tell my husband to leave it.  Yesterday.  When He cut.  I would rather have deer than for our field to be perfectly manicured.  I want His wildlife to be free to run….like I so long to do.

And so it sits.  And so, I sat.  At the edge of the awakening.  Waiting. Contemplating….whether I really want to venture in.  The deep.  The messy. God territory.  Beckoning my entry.  The place fate requires us to tread before the catalyst of all true awakenings.

But, I do it.  Sink into the depths of it all.  And it is worth it.

The birds singing praises with each step I go further….down the path, across the trail, and to the bridge that leads to our dock.

And I hear a duck calling. Flapping as I have so often done….trying to dry wings from weighed down sediment…..so he can fly.

And I see our dock light.  “I am light of the world”.  A God voice whispers near.

As the reflection of trees on the water make it hard to take a picture.  Not knowing where the reflection begins and the Real Thing disappears.

And I think of how I want to be like that.  Like Him.  A reflection so clear that no one knows where I end and the God in me begins.  A pure thing.  Not tainted. 

The real deal.  A mirror image of Him.  So I go further.

Seeing more ducks floating on the ripples from wind that lingers across the pond.

And how little they strive.  How they simply ride…..upon His wind.  And how I want to be like that too.

But then, I turn around.  Absorbing it all in.  As I witness my husband’s pole leaning against our rail.

And again….God breath whispering upon my skin.  “Be fishers of men.”

And what does it all mean?

• Morning dew kissed grass.  Uncut. The venture past the edge of the grass into its depths.
• The alter that cries….“Sacrifice it all.”
• The effortless way His creation is carried along.
• The Light representing His Light.
• And the pond.  His mirror…..reminding me of it all…..and how much I want to be like Him.

And as I grab the pieces of all He says….into the pocket of my heart.  I walk back.  Back to the confines which somehow and so often smothers God.

Venturing across the wild blades and back into grass perfectly tailored and cut.  Standing on the edge of the beauty of it all.

But, then I walk….

And pass it.

The alter.

And I hear it again so subtly halting me, “Sacrifice it all.”  And I realize the purpose of it all.  The key to experiencing The Presence of God.

One my way to my house, and it’s four walls…..

Keeping me so often from hearing….

The voice of God.

Linking today w/ My Freshly Brewed Life
Spiritual Sundays
Ann @ A Holy Experience
Laura @ Wellspring