The Call

I am standing before you in an oasis of flowers amid a blinding snowstorm of words, arguments and vain imaginings. You cannot see Me reaching for you through this storm.
    If you would just be silent and let your own words float to the ground. If you would just be quiet long enough to hear the Still Small Sound; then you could see Me and come to that warm place among the flowers. You would tread the snow path to bathe your icy feet in soothing, living waters.
    Come now, and let us reason together and I will do that which is beyond all reason and every unfathomable imagining. I will wash you with My reality, and melt the winter snow of your bondage. I will fill you with My wisdom and teach you the words to My song. There is a balmy, summer wind you need to feel around you. I am the only soft oasis you will find in all this frozen, concrete ground.
    Be still and come. Know that I am your God. I am the Beginning that has no end. I am the source of all creation that your mind will never comprehend.
    Come to Me, you who labor with your own understanding and I will give you rest. And no one who has ever made himself a little child to come to Me, will I ever cast away from Me.

Trust Me

How foolish are thy contentions, saith the Lord.
I have made the heart. I have made the mind,
And both are Mine to play.
Confusion is the sound of the song when man is the musician,
Children, give all thy instruments to My hand alone,
And trust Me for thy music.

Home

You have come at last. Like a child with blind eyes, you have felt your way around your own world for so long, now you are showing Me hands that are torn and scarred from all those jagged walls. But your wounds were the openings for My Spirit to enter in and draw you within the circle of My refuge.
    Sink into the flowers. Rest your head upon My lap. You are not old enough to refrain from crying at the relief I bring. Drink your health from the cup of My hand and be healed. I am your tender Father. I will nurture you as a gentle mother. The stormy landscape has all disappeared. I desire that you look no further than the reflection in My eyes; and the view is never ending.
    Hold onto this promise and see it fulfilled as you grow: I will gather you into My arms as a tiny child, and I will hold you until you become the bride in My embrace.

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Art copyright 1991 by J. Shively text copyright 1991 from The Still Small Voice by H.D. Shively