Reflective Wednesday

This is where it starts. Dust to dust, the ashes painted on the hazy mountaintop.The life has been laid down. Lost. Buried.  But could new life truly be reborn?  Could beauty ever come out of that place? 

For this mountain top is not one of triumph or elation, but dark heaviness. The load has been wearing and the heights concerning.  Lack of trust and fear of intimacy my usual companions.  

Doubtful, so very doubtful.

That life could spring out from this heart that fears? A heart that seeks to stay on top and in control, a heart that anticipates and clamors, the very life blood being strangled out.

It looks as if the tree is all but withered. The buds are barely noticeable.

The customer asks for yet another thing and don't they see I have things to do as well and their inquiry seems ludicrous. Anger and frustration demand my allegiance but a quiet alternative slowly garners my attention. Be here now. Be available to the now. Not distracted by the shoulds, oughts, couldas. People matter. 

"How can I help you?"

Some ugly remnants bubble, contempt and accusation offering their companionship, Susie you are such a jerk sometimes. Seriously, selfish, selfish this is your job!

A bud slowly begins to form.

A smile. A, "How are you?" An offer of presence.

But distraction comes and efficiency rears her head, the vile weed. Get 'er done! Do it best! Be the fastest! Earn your keep.

The fallout comes.

What am I really doing with my life? Why am I still alone?  Am I a failure?

The weed begins to ensnare but the roots have tasted the cool, trickling water...Rest in Me. Be at peace. I adore you. Be in my L I F E...

A flower begins to bloom, soft leaves emerging from her branch. Life forming in the darkness. Slowly, subtly.

How does He do it?  Just when the dimly lit hills feel my forever friend and the bare trees so stark. How does winter turn to spring in this heart ? Rebirth revealing herself, yet I often miss it. Those looking in stop and enjoy. But I feel so close to it, too close and I miss it.

Then the most amazing thing. I see one, then two, and suddenly there are hundreds fluttering about.  Like me, she can't see her wings--the beauty, the intricate design--she only knows she can fly!

Life is being renewed all round.  There before her the payment, the price.  The way prepared for this new way of life. The cross-bearing, laying-it-down-so-that-I-might-truly-live life.

That He indwells me! That He transfixes me! That he moves and shapes and has my being.

From ashes... B E A U T Y.