A Vessel

"He is made of not atoms, not syllables, not artisans, but so much more, so tall, so high, so wide, so great that His ends never meet."

HE DRAINED THE OCEAN and sucked the atmosphere dry, shifted the sands to make way for it. The light from Him was so powerful it lit the sky for four days. No sun, no moon, no stars, just Him. Yet we settle for such a low level of His Presence. His is the life that still creates lives today. It has never ceased replenishing and multiplying. From one seed comes hundreds more like it, and from those, thousands. Yet we ache and moan, grumble and complain, crow, over what little we have, not expecting more. We are a room within a room within a room with a dozen doors and a maze out. He is the leadership that has walked that way and knows the turns, holds the keys, standing right in front of us while we walk right by.

We hold a debate, chanting -isms over things we don’t believe in, simply for the sake of hearing our voice. His is the voice that spoke and the world that is gained existence. We create a pot, the handle falls off, He creates an army, fired in the kiln of virtue and tasks until backed by gold, rigid in the face of fire and trial. How could the lesser, the us, think so much of itself when the greater surrounds us? How could we blink and not see Him?

Gather the troops. March them in. Salute. Turn about. Snap-kick. Build a pew, a dozen pews, a hundred, and face a stage, but forget the Speaker in favor of your heartbeat. No. Non. Nyet. The issue of breath which breathes the words is His, and He is made of not atoms, not syllables, not artisans, but so much more, so tall, so high, so wide, so great that His ends never meet. Yet we revel in a puff, a sip of a glass that continually overflows.

He is a flood of a river deeper than infinite doors. But we stand, our palm over the knob, and refuse to take hold. His is the rivet of wall and the wall of the temple, and the temple of the city, and the city of the nation, and the nations of the earth, which bend across its landscape. And He has offered us the strength. He offers us the ability to climb. He offers us the value of the greatest money. He offers us, in the passing of time, the fullness of Him. Shall we turn aside? Ten minutes in the sun then an hour in the shade. A toe in a passing shower, the rest of us protected beneath the overhang.

I will dunk. I will dive. I will swim. I will sink as deep as He allows me to go. I will hold and wait and drink until I cannot be filled and come away hungry, not satisfied, and aware, knowing, wise. While others mount the herd and ride in every direction, I will focus and find Him in the focus. And there, in the staring, in the seeing, become what so many could but will not. A vessel.

“Take away the dross from the silver, and there shall come forth a vessel for the refiner.” (Proverbs 25:4 AFV)

Image by Engin Akyurt from Pixabay

Suzanne D. Williams, Author