"For thus says the Lord: Behold, I will extend peace to her like a river..." (Isaiah 66:12).
My eyes rest upon the glories of the land; skies a sapphire jewel above. A furtive mist reposes atop tranquil jade waters, satisfying it with peacefulness and myrrh and bird songs—as if perhaps some divine veil of sacredness and goodness had been purposely sent from heaven to wrap us all in undisturbed cheeriness, and shield light and intimate repose.
My heart sings to Thee oh Lord. And I marvel, and wonder, at how my tired feet of yesterday have found a softer ground today, and at how my wounded heart of exactly a year ago today, had been renovated by your Grace; given a new beginning, an unimaginable and wonderful beginning of freedom from fear and the wickedness of man.
And how far I am from them all today, Lord. And how close to You. Make sweet melody oh heart, sing many songs oh you my soul!
Something stirs the waters on the lake below, straight down under my balcony—perhaps the breezes who own the lake? Or maybe, is the angel who moved the waters of the pool at Bethesda in Jerusalem, or some mysterious and inexplicable waft of air sent all the way from the lost Paradise? I don't know. But it is like hearing God speak. His voice travels the space above the waters, and it moves up the waters and go deep into the wooded area surrounding it. Then, this same voice stirs the waters again. The sound of thousand tiny bells. A flapping of wings. And it goes up; straight up to my balcony, and into my room where I am sitting pondering upon these things and, entering right through my ears go straight into my heart.
What is it? Is it really You, God? God trying to tell me something; making known His desire of revealing His glory to those who knows how to listen and, wants to listen. For that's how I see it. And it brings me to my knees—this quiet, almost sacred murmur of shells over the water, healing the spirit by erasing loneliness, embarrassment and rejection.
Yesterday's trials must be forgotten. Must be put shut under the voice which moves the waters and make it sing. Perhaps, this is what God seeks to tell me?
"See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands; your walls are ever before me" (Isaiah 49:16).
This knowledge is too deep and to high to even begin to grasp it. But I make it mine with an open heart and the trust of a child. I am deeply touched. I am your servant.