often,
"[[I am a God of small beginnings.]]
just look at My Son. "
the hands of the One who stretched out the heavens,
on whose palms we are inscribed upon...
the hands of the One whom through all things were made,
that contain the life of every creature and the breath of all mankind...
the hands of the One who holds all things together,
and yet carefully captures every tear...
the hands -- completely clean, never once carrying their own sin, that willingly reached out and broke through every rational, medical and Mosaic Law thinking and cleansed the most unclean.
the hands that brought healing and freedom and deliverance and restoration to all that came hungry and needy, knowing that to just brush up against those fingertips meant life.
the hands that split the bread while His lips split open with thanks-- as they all watched in awe, as they all ate and had their fill--- eating from the very hand of God.
the hands that clenched tight, wrestling in prayer, as the blood sweat through His pores.
the hands that gripped and rubbed raw and dug deep into the wood that they carried, knowing full well He would soon hang upon it.
the hands, the very hands, that bled crimson red, bearing the nails as He bore our sickness and sin.
the feet of the One whose footstool is the earth,
at which John, the Beloved disciple fell down at as though he were dead..
the feet of the One whose footsteps we are to follow in, even if in suffering,
that the enemy of our souls is already placed under.
the feet of the One who alone tramples the waves of the sea,
that wore down and covered dirty the sandals that the one crying out in the wilderness, preparing the way, declared he was unworthy of even untying.
the feet that took ground and authority and brought the Kingdom of heaven to earth at each step, yet were humbly washed with the tears and hair of that desperate Mary of Bethany, as she poured out on them the fragrance of her life.the feet that demonstrated how lovely on the mountains they are bringing good news, announcing peace and bringing good news of happiness, announcing salvation, and saying to Zion, "Your God reigns!"
the feet of God that walked with man--showing man how to walk with God..
the feet that purposefully trudged that road to Calvary, feeling the weight with each step of the burden of humanity He carried and the destiny He'd meet at His destination on that hill in the place called The Skull.
the feet, the very feet, that bled crimson red, bearing the nails as He fulfilled that Genesis 3 prophecy, 'you will bite her child's foot, but HE will crush your head'.
those holy, pure, strong hands.
those sacred, dignified, beautiful feet.
first appeared so small.
so tender and fragile. so insignificant and weak.
"[[I am a God of small beginnings.]]
just look at My Son. "
the hands of the One who stretched out the heavens,
on whose palms we are inscribed upon...
the hands of the One whom through all things were made,
that contain the life of every creature and the breath of all mankind...
the hands of the One who holds all things together,
and yet carefully captures every tear...
the hands -- completely clean, never once carrying their own sin, that willingly reached out and broke through every rational, medical and Mosaic Law thinking and cleansed the most unclean.
the hands that brought healing and freedom and deliverance and restoration to all that came hungry and needy, knowing that to just brush up against those fingertips meant life.
the hands that split the bread while His lips split open with thanks-- as they all watched in awe, as they all ate and had their fill--- eating from the very hand of God.
the hands that clenched tight, wrestling in prayer, as the blood sweat through His pores.
the hands that gripped and rubbed raw and dug deep into the wood that they carried, knowing full well He would soon hang upon it.
the hands, the very hands, that bled crimson red, bearing the nails as He bore our sickness and sin.
the feet of the One whose footstool is the earth,
at which John, the Beloved disciple fell down at as though he were dead..
the feet of the One whose footsteps we are to follow in, even if in suffering,
that the enemy of our souls is already placed under.
the feet of the One who alone tramples the waves of the sea,
that wore down and covered dirty the sandals that the one crying out in the wilderness, preparing the way, declared he was unworthy of even untying.
the feet that took ground and authority and brought the Kingdom of heaven to earth at each step, yet were humbly washed with the tears and hair of that desperate Mary of Bethany, as she poured out on them the fragrance of her life.the feet that demonstrated how lovely on the mountains they are bringing good news, announcing peace and bringing good news of happiness, announcing salvation, and saying to Zion, "Your God reigns!"
the feet of God that walked with man--showing man how to walk with God..
the feet that purposefully trudged that road to Calvary, feeling the weight with each step of the burden of humanity He carried and the destiny He'd meet at His destination on that hill in the place called The Skull.
the feet, the very feet, that bled crimson red, bearing the nails as He fulfilled that Genesis 3 prophecy, 'you will bite her child's foot, but HE will crush your head'.
those holy, pure, strong hands.
those sacred, dignified, beautiful feet.
first appeared so small.
so tender and fragile. so insignificant and weak.
so Beloved,
[do not despise that humble, hidden, lowly work. ]
both inward-- in those deepest places within you, where I'm masterfully working, beginning, transforming..
and outward-- in those unexpected even naturally undesired places around you, where I'm calling you to serve and love and lay your life down..
because those places
the ones that seem the most small. the most insignificant.
there's something holy, other-worldly in them.
and just as that Babe wrapped in swaddling clothes,
was missed-- missed,
altogether looked-over,
just because He didn't come as they expected,
as they hoped,
as they wanted.
let's be careful not to miss Him-- today, dear one.
even if that thing, that work, that calling,
looks different-- maybe even smaller than we envisioned or anticipated.
He knows what He is doing.
we just need eyes to see it.
