Monday, November 28, 2011
His Seabed Is Love Without End
There's a ship out
on the ocean
at the mercy of the sea
it's been tossed about
lost and broken
God somehow you know
that ship is me
'Cause there's a lighthouse
in the harbor
pouring its light out
across the water...*
The last few lines of this swaddle me in soft blankets and pull me in close. I can smell the myrrh and cassia of His robe, the aloe in His hair, spice and salt mingled. Strong arms wrap around me holding tight. I am weightless. He bears it all. I need do nothing else but be here in this moment of silence as His chest rises and falls.
I am the baby otter floating peacefully on mother otter's belly. Baby possum safe on mother possum's furry back. Downy gosling snuggled under goose wing. Be it done on earth.
He is light pouring out across the water- lonely, cold, dark, forbidding water. He is light and shore and hope. He is warmth and buoyancy and direction. Pouring. Pouring. As the wine poured in Cana. As the water poured in the foot basin at Supper. As love poured forgiveness, grace, at Golgotha. Dark waters shot through with the heart life of God. Sorrow transformed into the best of wine.
His heart contains all the oceans of this world, of my world, your world. Arms stretched full out- all that exists fits from palm to palm. Our world and all it consists of is baby otter floating on God's heart. "Surely, He bore our sorrows..." He holds us and all that is about us with gentle strength.
Psalm 144 has David wondering, "...why you care, God— why do you bother with us at all? All we are is a puff of air; we're like shadows in a campfire." That is us. Smoke and black water.
I'm with David. I don't know why He cares when I have often given Him reason to do otherwise. I only know He does. His Word promises it. His love is the white of the snow against a dark mountain sky. His seabed is love without end. Its depths beyond reckoning.
So tonight as I need the height and depth of His light and love poured out, it is poured out. Not squeezed out in stingy drops but in waves flooding up from that seabed of love. Shimmering and alive and mine. It is grace falling and falling faster, as snowflakes on my tongue, tasting God. My Father's affection is unrestrained in the embrace of Christ.
I weep a sweetness only known in Him.
(This posting is my heart at His feet. No strings offering.)
*Until You Come Back To Me by Garth Brooks