Dwell here.

It seems that I return to the same place everyday; the same mound of earth on which I am fashioning the most important type of object. Some days I return with nails and a hammer, to pound away fiercely with all my might. Other times I just quietly sit, rubbing my sand paper across the surface to smooth out the rough spots. Then there are times when great inspiration hits me and I jump up to begin reshaping and recreating that which I labor over day after day, month after month. This is my life’s work and yet I have no idea how long it shall take to complete.

 

In my heart I know my existence must center around one thing and only one. I am to be a master carver and designer. I will spend myself on making the perfect memorial for my love. Hours and hours will be given over to creating a monument of affection and devotion. Worship will always be on my lips and I must tarry for divine enchantment to fill my hands. As I return time after time, to form my object of remembrance, I will invite others to come along side and help me. Patience and longsuffering are my friends who stand on either side and speak the truth of abiding deep in the vine. When I become entrenched with the overwhelming work ahead in sculpting, wisdom arrives to whisper of a time and place beyond. She shares about the eternal existence where my toiling is considered gold; where my weak attempt to build a symbol of fidelity is noted as invaluable and perfect.

 

I am making a child. She will be small and wide-eyed. Looking above, her gaze will be set and her smile full of fascination. As I work hard to build this memorial of my life, I can only believe that this child will be filled with faith. I know I can not complete the inside of this sculpture. I can not pour in the hope and belief she will need to be wholehearted. Only the Father can pour out supernatural confidence in love and desire.

 

As I construct her day after day, I am learning the value in hearing the voice of the One I build for. He leads and guides me, pointing out the errors which I am too close to, to see. I dream of a little girl beaming up at her Father with awe and mystical adoration. Her Father can do anything He tells her He will do. There is no doubt in her heart that when she runs up and jumps high, that He will catch her. Her Daddy is strong and no one can stand up against Him. He is the one she wants to be like and her heart burns for Him. There is no room for compromise because He is her life. He is the reason she breathes.

 

My life must be a memorial of trust. When my journey is over, I long to have created a timeless portal in my heart where child-like faith resides and love is brimming over. This memorial of the soul will be the celebration of His sacrifice. It will be my “thank you” to the One who laid it all down to save me. Jesus is worth a million memorials and yet all He asks for is mine. He is looking for a heart totally given over to building Him a dwelling place.