When it all comes down to the realization of the evidence to which we have been afforded over possibly a very lengthy portion of our lives, there comes a time to accept or at least to earnestly consider, that a gift, or a multitude of gifts, by which we have been blessed are our purpose through which God expects us to use to His glory. Like the finger upon the keyboard, on single tap, a note fills the air, and suddenly, our thoughts become transformed into a flowing stream of unending scenes of waterfalls, mountain meadows, and all manner of beautification to which we are drawn by the Spirit into an undulating dance of rapturous bliss and joy. Ann Lamott put it best: “Inspiration comes like a train moving through the landscape. You see it approaching while you’re hanging laundry or doing something mundane, and you have to race inside to catch it before the last car—the caboose—disappears.”[1]
But how does such inspiration manifest itself? Could it be that when we allow ourselves to imbibe of such wonders, we are as a child being led by the hand of the Father down a sparsely lit path through a dark and foreboding forest, where alone we would shudder with terror? Yet, as now, the sense of protection, that wall of impenetrable love, envelopes us, for where there is perfect love, there can be no fear and in such a place, we are free to find something planted deep inside; something when acted upon, seems to derive is source from someplace beyond our own conscription of creativity, someplace beyond logic and reason. When the world’s inhibitions are removed, it’s like finding that crystal stream gurgling through the rocks worn smooth with an eternity of time, some laden with the glowing greenness of soft, downy moss – our soul becomes refreshed and renewed, overflowing with more than we can contain. Bursting forth in a flood of breathless etchings, the ethereal becomes substantial as we strive to quickly put it on paper, play it through the keyboard, or splash its essence upon the canvas of life. How fleeting they are, those gracious seconds when in visions the Lord sets before us of His marvelous works slip beyond our grasp.
Today, seek to find that precious gift God has placed inside you, and find a place where you can hear the still, small voice. Give breath to that which begs to come forth, and glorify Him in the process. #thanksbetoGod
[1] Lamott, Anne. 1994. Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life. New York: Anchor Books.
