The Potter’s Hand is in the Word

The world is filled with many wonders. Various mouths are opening, spewing out powerful gestures of love. Laughter is escaping through multiple living lungs, like whales splashing the goodness of salt water through their nostrils. Yes, the world is a fascinating place to live, a multifaceted medium where all men underneath the sun call home. Nevertheless, my inquisition is not about this world, but more so centred upon the living souls within its core. Who are you, oh Man? Where did you go so wrong and why is your heart filled with the imaginations of wickedness? I cry aloud in the depths of my being for your soul, for I hear the hurt of your heart. I hear the pants of death within your skin, it screams the screams of help. Fathers brutalise the souls of their sons with abandonment, mothers disperse trust with adultery. Brothers hate with a hatred of murder and sisters shut the gates of truth with a lying tongue. Oh Man, where did we go so wrong? Why have we manifested our darkest desires, warring amongst ourselves to feed the creeping greed of our lusts. Have we forgotten our likeness, have we misinterpreted our first image?

Look at the brother on your right, or stare at the sister on the opposite side. Loneliness has clothed them with the garment of fear, like a flood, it has eroded all trust from their hearts. Man, no longer trusts man, therefore, love no longer has a place to dwell. Foxes have dens and birds have nests, but the son of man has no place to lay his head for loneliness has gripped his heart. My ways are skewed towards pain, my tongue raises the seas of confusion as my veins runs the blood stream of envy. I was once born to be the king of the world. I was once created to command the seas, to strike the lightening with authority, to command the thunderous sounds of rain. Yet when deception knocked my door, I opened with gladness. Now, I no longer do the things I yearn to do. The good I want to do, I do not and the evil I don’t want to do, that I do. Confusion is the root of all evil for a double-minded man is unstable in all his ways.

Faith is the substance of hope, the evidence of things not seen. Nevertheless, since the fall of my heart, I now live by sight. I used to believe the impossible. A world where faith will cause my reality to join hands with the impossible. In this place, the wolf lived with the lamb, the leopard laid down with the goat, the calf and the lion and the yearling together; as a little child led them. Peace governed their hearts like a rod striking the naked particles of the air. Nothing was everything. For we commanded things that are not as though they were. To fly was to will the body to glide through the layers of the air and to jump was to command the waves of the seas to propel its wings. Whales swam next to us as the dolphins sang melodies of delight. My soul hated the blemish of evil, like a new-born denying the pain of hunger with a cry. Yes, once upon a time, I believed. I would open my ears to hear the voice of grace. A voice that accompanied me on all my journeys. So calm, so soothing, like hot water, it rushed through every critical spot of fear. You see, I never knew fear because trust always came to save. In moments of danger, the glorious presence of my King would swoop me into an everlasting stillness. A plane could be crashing a hundred thousand feet in the air and not one ounce of anxiety would seep in. All because my Creator was faithful. His faithfulness allowed me to hope against hope, so that I may also call into existence everything out of nothing. For in the beginning God created the heavens and the earth…… and God said! That is all, He said…. With the Word, He said….

Now I know the truth. “What is truth?” Pilate asked Jesus. Well Pilate, the truth is, in Him, we live and move, and have our being. I believe that He is the light of the world, He is the resurrection and life and that He is my beloved King. The one whom my soul pants after. For I knew Him once within the walls of impossibility, yet I allowed His voice to slip through the cracks of noise. But He remained faithful. Even when I was his greatest enemy, He still loved me. To the extent that He gave me His only begotten Son, as a gift. And so Pilate, this is the only truth I will cling to. Philosophy is dead because Jesus Christ has ended it with TRUTH. What is truth you may ask…. Well go down on your knees today. Take out your heart with your right hand and lay it by His throne. Open that mouth of yours, and ask the King. When your conversation is done, start to proclaim the goodness of our Heavenly Father, for His name is great!

 

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