“I want you to smell of the incense of purity;
To be the sweet smelling fragrance of excellent sacrifices;
To be the spices that make the unique blend for the oils
That perfume My tabernacle and pervade my temple.
“The making of any good thing takes time. God could have created the entire universe in an instant, yet He first introduced the concept of time, and used six days to make the world and man. Patience, friends, patience.” – Makafui.
‘How beautiful it is for brethren to live together in harmony’;
A beauty unmarred by offenses, unbroken by distance,
Unforgotten through time, to be desired the harder it is to maintain;
It is like the sound of heaven’s choir with perfect harmonies;
It is the song of victory of the saints separated by times,
Sang across generations, eras, dispensations, and covenants.
“Alas, the choice was made –
Irrevocable by the edicts of free-will.
Though it broke My heart many times over,
I watched as you left, dejected yet prideful;
Such pride as is borne of ignorance and presumptuousness.
I witnessed the corruption of perfections once more;
Took in at a glance the full extent of the cracks and flaws
Skillfully injected into My impeccable design.
“We’ve come full circle, haven’t we?
In the beginning you were Mine, and I loved you.
I adored and pampered you; you had My presence,
Saw My face, heard My voice. I spoke to you
Among the trees like one to his beloved,
With whispers, and caresses, and warnings;
You were lovely, and innocent and glorious;
You made Me smile, because I looked at what I had made,
And knew it was good; Without blemish, not lacking
In purpose or power, in beauty or wisdom, in love or grace.
You were My delight, My treasure, My pleasure.
I’ve been charged with being unworthy;
Unneeded, unwanted even before birth;
Destined, not for this life or the next;
Overstaying my welcome; Overextending my reach;
Overestimating myself; Misappropriating resources;
Underplaying my flaws; Overemphasizing Grace.
I admit that I’m guilty;
But guilty of nothing but being loved, wanted, saved,
Appreciated, needed, understood, celebrated, precious;
Guilty of having to leave too soon; Underestimating myself;
Under-using Grace; Abusing my strengths; Hiding behind my flaws;
Sabotaging and badly misjudging the extent of my reach.
My name is Grace, Amazing Grace, we haven’t been introduced yet.
It’s a pleasure to meet you. Give me a minute or two, will you?
I’ve got a pitch prepared, but more than that, I’ve got reviews.
I’m in the business of transformations – total makeovers;
From ashes to beauty, from pauper’s rags to royal robes;
From death to life, anxiety to peace, hunger to satisfaction.
I take what has been discarded, forgotten, condemned, destroyed;
I remember to dust off, pardon, restore, comfort, assure, protect.
I preserve what is mine, and seek for more to make mine and pamper.
“What do you see?” One of God’s favourite questions to His prophets;
Because “The poor man and the oppressor have this in common:
The LORD gives sight to the eyes of both.”
So then He asks you and I,
“I’ve given you eyes; tell Me, what do you see?”
The vision is not just for the night:
It is the goal by which plans are formed in the light;
It is the assurance that the destination draws closer
With each step and sober diligent effort;
It is a reckoning for realignment where necessary;
A beacon that shines brighter the darker things get;
A fire that sets the heart ablaze and burns away indolence.
“If Grace had a price-tag, there wouldn’t be enough space for the trailing zeros; It is precious even in abundance, and it’s absence is a terrible vacuum – such abject lack that the entirety of creation groans in inexpressible agony.” – Makafui.
“I have loved thee with an everlasting love,
And I have stretched thy boundaries,
Even as I have stretched the heavens,
Wheresoever the soles of thy feet toucheth…
I have blessed, and who curseth?
Art there divinations and enchantments that do counter Mine words?
Will Mine ears hearken unto the calls that plead thy downfall;
Or will I smite in sore anger Mine tabernacle of Grace?