A few weeks ago I had the vision that waves were rising all around this garden, tall and mighty. Like the ocean, like the red sea. And I felt it tonight, standing out there. (And I wondered why it is not falling, why it is not crashing down on doubts and enemies, what are the waters waiting for?) I felt God saying that He’s separating me from it. I am learning to not be all the things I’m not. And first then the water can fall on my enemies without falling on me. How can God kill the army if we’re on the ocean floor at the same time? There’s a height and width and depth to the importance of faith in forgiveness and the death of sin and it being killed off in your own body.
Tag Archives: sunday
Walking Thoughts of a Sunday Evening
I walked through the forest today, just after the sun had set, but while the sky was still clear enough that it could have been a cloudy midday. The birds were singing like crazy, as if trying to call the day back. The forest floor was covered in green leaves and white buds that made my heart hurt. Soon those flowers will bloom and it will look like it has been snowing again, until they die and leave space for summer. I looked and walked and thought that this was the saddest sadness I’d ever seen. The birds see death and think of birth, and I see birth and think of death.
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