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One Winter Morning (Pt.2) Father. Strange word that!? Spoken, read or even thought, it carries with it the common-ess of a word like "love". Words that are too often used too vaguely to describe something that is so much more significant and wonderful! So much so that what we end up with is an impression and an experience that falls quite a bit short of what it should be. Defining not only what we expect of a father (or love, or...?), but limiting what it could be AND even limiting how we view our Heavenly Father. "Sure it does", I think as I draw in the next crisp frigid breath! There are aspects of my fathers personality that have left me with such a negative impression of the word father...I sometimes feel as if I'm cursing God by calling Him Father!? "Hey...and hows that for laying ALL my junk down at the alter" ...I speak to no one apparent in this world...but expecting an answer all the same from the world to come. The answer is forthcoming and immediate as what would appear to the unaware and unsaved as a random thought...but I've learned to know better than that. "Well then, it is a good thing that it is more important your hearts intent than the use of vocabulary basedon your experience alone." Very well indeed I chuckle beneath my next exhalation; steam forming some sort of personal Shekinah in front of my face. Its funny how the temprature (or lack thereof) seems irrelevant when the Presence is near!? But, back to my "prayer" as it were...one would think a person in my "position" would pray something much more eloquaint, yet Father is the only formal word used thus far...the rest has been response. We often forget such things as that come Sunday morning...when it becomes more important to pray many words; large expensive sounding to impress the other Pharisees and Jones'. To be seen being holy and pious without really being either. Father...a one word prayer...at least so far. But what more really needs to be said? A recognition of who He is in relation to myself and then as it should be I step back and shut-up. Why? Because when I really come to this place of honesty and brokeness...I've usually said too much already...and I haven't come here to hear me...I hear me all the time...and I'm not that impressed. I am recognizing God for who He is...and by shutting up, I'm recognizing who I am in relation to that... I've come to listen today, not to talk. Sometimes I wonder if, when He thinks of me, He sees me with palms up and shrugging..."Oooops...looks like I did it again Lord?!" Probably, I think thats my usual posture when approaching Him. And maybe its just me, but as soon as I think this I imagine He nods knowingly in agreement and maybe laughs just a little bit?! The second image of seeing myself in the Spirit is that ever popular stance we take when we step in "it"! One arm propped over against a wall or a tree or a car; that one transgressing foot pulled over to the side about knee high so that we may visually confirm what smell and tactile sensation have already suggested..."is that...Oh man!" Great. I think I have officially announced my candidacy to be the court jester to Heaven. Though on the positive side I just may be the only candidate who realizes he's not running uncontested!? |
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1/24/2008 12:24 pm |
Kelly! True-dat! lol Sometimes its a palm of the hand to the forehead "smack" "I coulda had a V-8!" smack! lol Very good kel. peace kat
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1/25/2008 2:29 am |
Hi Lesses,What a great sence of humour u have. .I picture The LORD sitin there with his big bucket of pop corn when i come t pray.HE sits there probably thinkin oh dear it`s her again it`s probably gonna b a long one.Hee hee.Oh by the way thank u for stoppin by my post n commentin.Great answer. Yours in CHRIST, Wendy  Show me the way Sweet JESUS. Lead and i Will follow.  
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