Monday, July 13, 2009

the Invisible Hand painted the walls

in the eternity existing before time began, an expert Craftsman set to work about his creation. we've all read the stories of such Creation; some believe the stories, but many have cast a cynical eye towards the 'fairy tale' and have since moved on to science, knowledge involving material and 'proof'.

but have no fear, you believer, because regardless of their unbelief, this Creationist exists.

His World was torn asunder in the moment of independence; hearts were shattered, spirits divided.

and so, this Creationist, an professional Artisan, began His artwork once again, lamenting this necessary task. an expert in combining vivid colors with muted hues, he began to blend them into realities and perceptions of various sorts. once the colors were perfected, the Invisible Hand swept His fingers through the wet paint and began to stain this newly autonomous world with the multitude of pigments.

a wall was created.

and He wept.

the one World then became divided between their world, a suffocating impersonation of freedom, and His World, now invisible to those locked inside their own self-sufficiency.

division was evident for a very long time. the people inside the world would, now and then, have vague visions of the World which the paint guarded. dreams of Utopia, unexplainable longings, unquenchable fires deep within their hearts.

there was talk of reconciliation, but those within repeatedly stumbled into the wall. furthermore, they were often entranced by their reflections within this wall, looking only towards themselves, never beyond themselves to the World past the reflection. they did not and could not know how much more awaited them, for their selfishness prevented them from seeing.

reunion came in the form of a Man - and at once, the painted bricks of the wall became invisible.

but you see, the people inside were rather accustomed to staring at the painted partition, and so they were physically unable to see through to the Outside World. their hearts had grown hard, their eyes dim.

He sent his Love into the reunited World, calling the spirits He so lovingly formed back to him, desperately trying to change their hearts, to open their eyes.

He longed to have his creation return to Him.

that Love, it worked hard upon one heart in particular, one spirit that was seeking to find Him, despite its ignorance to its own search.

that hard heart soon cracked open under such a great Love, revealing a fleshy, love-inspired heart. those eyes, they shone brightly. this man walked, puzzled, to the invisible brick wall he had never before been aware of, seeing only the outlines of the old painted bricks. he carefully pulled down the first paint brick, and a trickle of light flowed forth into the eyes of the others. he looked back to their faces, to see if they saw what he could now see upon the other side of this confusing barrier. their eyes peered and strained, but they still saw not. the man pulled down another brick, set upon tearing down the entire wall! more and more blocks came down by the power of this man's hands, His love, and His strength; the light grew to an blinding glow, and more and more people began to see past him into the other world.

the Glory of the Light flooded their faces, their world, and their hearts.

the lost came out of hiding.

the land, the trees, the grass, the flowers, and the animals belonging to the rebels began to groan loudly, in anticipation of the voluntary, complete destruction of the wall by those who had once refused Him.

words, songs, noises - they poured forth as Enlightenment and Reconciliation were completed.

worship.

we will return to You.

Your name is Glorious.
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I have fallen in love with the song Tear Down the Walls, by Hillsong United. The song is powerful in its lyrics, beautiful in its unusual structure, and of course, crescendos loudly before it falls grandly.

This writing is inspired by this beautiful song.

About Me

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I live amongst the dragons and the warriors of the 21st century. I surround myself with both the peasants, the aristocrats; the knights and the maidens. For a long time (now quite in the past), I wove the structure of my life around the mold others saw for me. I've since learned to live for God and myself. Freedom comes and goes as I remember this lesson of mine. But my life is MY life: a series of events and remembering such. And this, this beautiful montage, is why I wake up every morning. God willing.