My dream is fragmented by the annoying, but familiar beep, shifting my ears to its pulse.
My palm feels for the small box and hastily swats the snooze button. "I need to know You." I say to God as I face the blurry, gray ceiling. I shift my heart to the direction of His presence and do not rise until I feel warm-hearted. "Have mercy." I entreat. Grudgingly, I enter into the alertness of the world and leave the residue of His night show.
Despite the heaviness & resistance from my body, I rise to my feet. Through my half slit lids, I touch the lined texture of one door frame and than another to reach the light switch. In just a moment, I allow my eyes to adjust and then slide clearness into my sight. "Be my true vision." I say as the cool liquid re-freshens and the plastic globs onto my eyes.
Again, I feel for the walls in the hall until I reach the window-lit kitchen. I strain for the half-empty box and spy a clean bowl. I pour grain into it. "Pour Your Spirit into the bowl of my life." I request, knowing that desire and faith will strike a match. With each spoonful I think on His words "Do this in remembrance of Me." I thank him for the victuals. When the crunching ceases and the sipping stops, I gently set the dishes in the drain.
Quietly I step into the living room. For a determined moment I lounge on the Psychiatrist's couch. I am told to "Be strong and of good courage." I agree that bad courage is wasteful. "Your strength, not mine." I reply, knowing it goes contrary to logic and the alarm of the media. "You are my safety net and my covering." I proclaim "I do not have to fear the crazy arrows." Few words will be as wise and comforting as these.
After the dilemma of deciding what colors and textures are appropriate for the mood of the day, I am suited up in God. He is my double shield. What can get through His faith and His word? Better yet what can get past faith in His Word?
Finally, I enter the crisp atmosphere where I spot a blue jay and its mate. Who would know my favorite color is blue? I recognize the choreography. Though the mate is not as beautiful, she does have a little of his coloring. Do I have Your coloring? I ask.
My rear view mirror catches no movement, so I let my car roll back. I say "Order each detail of my day." as I face forward towards the street. I tap the stereo button and am reminded "Thy will be done." I say, "Lord protect me." as I watch for zipping cars that cut through the side street. I bolt into the motionless street and cautiously pass the kids at the bus stop. Though they appear to be more secure than I was at their age, I pray "Be their rock."
I stop at another intersection with a red light. The bank sign flashes "Victory!" I am reminded of His victory and celebrate the triumph. He has drawn me again to him with excitement.
Another red light and before the turn, the bumper ahead of me has a Darwin sticker. I pray
"New sticker, new life." I search my heart for sincere words, not empty, rote words. "Be real to me." I ask.
I am now gliding past the tall, wide oak trees. I pray that those inside the warm, brick building will end up as "trees of righteousness." I tug my necklace with the keys and am reminded of the keys to the Kingdom. "Yes, Lord, bring on Your kingdom. I pray before I enter in.
Honey Stone (C) 2007
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