The Morning After

By February 2, 2015Uncategorized

sunrise-iowa

It’s funny how the morning after is so calm. Like nothing happened. Like your world was not just shattered. Like you imagined it all.

I wonder if this is how Moses felt the morning after the burning bush. Did he wake up and think he had imagined it all? Did He have some calm as he prepared to start his day in the desert with his father-in-law’s sheep? Did He fall into that false sense of security as he had breakfast with his wife and children? Did he even venture so far as to try and push it to the back of his mind … until … … … Until he remembered his encounter with Elohim? Did his feet suddenly burn with a paralyzing sensation as he recalled standing on Holy Ground?

I wonder if this is how Esther felt the morning after. Did she wake up and wonder why the silence? Where was the incessant chatter of girls? She’d been living as a part of the harem for so long that she had forgotten the dreams of her childhood. The dreams where a still small voice whispered of her greatness and the things she would achieve in her lifetime. The premature death of her parents and the pain of losing them so young had long since silenced that still small voice. And yet, the morning after as she tried not to panic at the stories she had heard of her former highness, Queen Vashti, something familiar and strange happened. That still small voice came back on that morning after. It caressed her soul and spoke to the spirit man in her to arise: Told her that this had always been her place and she was destined for yet more greatness. I wonder if she trusted it immediately or if she struggled as we all do with all things familiar and all the things of fleshly comfort.

I wonder if this is how David felt as he was awakened by the pungent smell of countless bleating sheep. Perhaps it had rained through the night, and while that was fine for the pastures, it only made the sheep smell more … sheepish. I wonder if he thought about going to share it with his father, and his brothers. His soul must have yearned that morning more than most for a dear friend. He had prayed most of his life for Elohim to send him a friend – a tangible visible, physical, human one. I wonder if he hid from his brothers’ resentful stares and his father’s ashamed glances for forgetting him. I wonder if the peace came that day – if it ever came.

I wonder if this is how Joseph felt all his life. I wonder if he longed – yearned even – for his mother. The only person who would have understood his consistent chatter about dreams and all things supernatural. The only one who understood his greatness. I wonder if he woke up in the pit cursing those dreams and more so his big mouth. I wonder if he felt like this the morning after he was sold into slavery and watched his brothers grow smaller and smaller on the horizon. I wonder if he felt like this as he hated them with every step. I wonder if he felt like this after being sold into Potiphar’s house and as he grew in favor and wisdom day by day. I wonder if he felt like this after being appointed prime minister. Would they finally discover that he really wasn’t all that wise? That he really was overwhelmed by the attention they gave him. That he really didn’t have all the answers?

Did the overwhelming fear ever subside? Did the tremors and shakes ever go away? How long before the doubt – not in God but in self and the possibility that it was them and not God speaking – subside? How long before the next instruction? How long before the first physical sign? How long before HE stepped in and they / we start[ed] seeing the dots being connected?

Today as I sit in the afterglow of the morning after, I ask Lord that you will give me peace. Give me courage. Give me wisdom. Keep me calm. Keep me grounded. Keep me mum until such a time when you speak. When you announce me. When you unveil the plan and unleash the plot.

In the meantime Lord, today as I sit in the afterglow of the morning after, Take Over – Take Over – Take Over.

I am yours for the taking, yours for the using, yours for the keeping, yours for the sending.

I am Beautiful – Empowered – Visionary

I am @BeautifulPetal_

Let the #Malkia in me arise and shine for her light is come and the glory of the Lord is risen upon her.

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Author Bev

I am Beautiful - Empowered - Visionary

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