once i created a horse stable with stalls, dutch doors, and windows. with wood shavings, buckets of feed, sweet treat and fresh hay. i connected a picket pasture and opened the doors for the stalls to be filled.
one by one their names were tacked up in rows each above their own place. daily i would suit up in my equestrian gear to make my way from one end to the other tracing their faces as they stuck out from their stalls. i would breathe them in deeply, learning their shapes, colors, patterns, markings... sometimes they came willingly to the openings but often they hid in the shadows. sometimes they would burst out - saunter, graze, gallop, and whiny freely. at this i would watch wide eyed with excitement and often shed tears in awe of a magnificence that only comes from such a creature.
i loved my time spent in the stable. it had a life of its own crafted out of early mornings and late nights. it provided a shelter and a safe place for me. a place to hide in my own shadows. i was moved revived enlightened humbled blessed inspired... i laughed and cried and learned and changed and grew.
i spent time inspecting and repairing wooden fence that had been broken down or worn over time. sometimes I replaced it with barbed or electric wire, sometimes tape or braided rope. i repainted the outside of my structure over and over again. i worked the ambiance to my favor season after season.
and then one day He called me. revealing a vision where within stood firm certainty that my stable would soon be abandoned. i shuttered at the thought. i begged and pleaded that He would take the cup from me. that it would pass. but i knew deep down the kind of guts He has; my Deity who made good in turning His face from His own righteous blood stained Son in the flesh on Sacrifice row. i knew He had much to ask of me. i knew that He wouldn't show me what i've seen or give me what He's given if He had no intention of asking me.
and so, eventually, i let Him remove me.
and the stables became a faded rusty old passion of dust and webs. and i became new.
He beacons me to seek His face, His voice, His shelter, His pastures. He offers His protection food water shadows light... He welcomes me into His perfect Place. He roots in His promise that my name is already there. that i have a right and even a role.
still i wander. and wonder. where is it again? who am i?
and what about that old abandoned red barn? wasn't that okay? couldn't that do? maybe just one more round? a walk through... a visit... a tour?
sweetly and consistently He repeats ~
just come. put it all down and come in.
but it feels like falling out. like opening the doors and flying away to a life where vast love looks more like immense void, freedom daunts great room for error, and fear-bound crowds out thrilling trust. and i never quite get to the door.
how could i not trust You by now? how could i not live out what i have seen and know about You? why am i so locked down and so tied up? and by what? a wall? a chord? a strand of hair?
each of which You have complete power over.
God. Take Hold and Have Your Way.
bring me out.
