In the shadows I dwell, encased in the deep rich contour of the one before me. My arms raised high above his head, a glimmering circle in hand. I am placed up on a step, and enveloped in warm red velvet sheltering. His silhouette tall and robust, unlike his form before me so lowly and bent. And bright in the LIGHT before him.
To me the Glowing One speaks. Not aloud, but in ethos, deep within myself, yet assuredly not me. HE is kind and gentle and humble and strong. Asking me, “Will you?”
Tangibly intangible. Confusingly simply. I have been away from this place for so long, I have forgotten what it is like to be here, in HIS presence. How fearfully peaceful, and wildly calm HIS gaze is. Every fiber of myself straining to lean in for more of HIS essence. Longing to be closer still, fearing to get too close, yearning to comprehend.
HE is all at once behind me and before me, HIS great strength encircling my weakening self, clasping the gleaming circle in my hands when I would likely hit the head of the one in whose shadow I am residing. Calming. Collecting. Patience. Kind. Powerful.
Putting me at rest while teaching me to work. Not for myself, but for the one HE has placed me behind.
Waiting for another human being to grow into a new hight is tedious and monotonous time spent being still. Yet, HIS deep ethos voice asks, “will you?” and HIS presence encourages, “keep your eyes on ME.” And I can’t help but to do just that. At least for a moment.
For the dailiness of the day, and the bearing down of the getting life lived, when we have not yet reached what it is we are straining toward, I forget the sound of how HIS voice feels, rumbling from deep.
And it is in the daily rhythm that doors need shutting and heads need falling down on knees, until HIS massively encompassing presence indwells such tiny four walls. Until HIS voice is heard by self from unfathomable within, and my response to HIM is, “yes and yes and yes,” until I see HIM again.