When the Father's Love Moves

The Writing Room

8/9/22

Prompt: Color My World – Tiara, Sushi, Clover, Dallas

Ephesians 3:14-20

When the Father’s Love Moves

Disoriented. I could feel the pain from the night before. The busted skin around the eye was still screaming. But that was nothing compared to the cuts my heart had sustained. But to add to the disorientation, the softness under my cheek was out of place considering I still smelled the dirt. I found the courage to open the other eye enough to see a blurry, dark green carpet stretched before me. My legs signaled that this green presence was slightly hugging as I centered my eyes to focus. The Clover danced gently in the same breeze that livened my sight. I was surrounded, but it was not just the Clover. I began to distinguish a variety of smells introducing themselves amongst the dirt and clover as the trees, flowers, bushes, and other familiar life joined the revelation chorus.

The canopy parted long enough to show me the door from which I had fallen. Within the same breath of revelation, the canopy focused on incoming light, wind, and warmth. My skin welcomed the gentle touch as my eyes focused on the core and source of warmth. I saw a large, golden lion. His eyes were a light blue flame, full of fierce love that would without hesitation scorch any malevolent action against the object of their affection. Me. His eyes were burning for me. The flames leapt forth fueled by his heart and consumed grief, pain, betrayal, and shame eating away at my humanity while positioning me into full Teshuvah. He turned me towards him. My arms stretched back out to him, and this giant lion jumped into the air, morphed into a cloak, wrapped his paw arms around my shoulders, then rested his lion face gently beside my right cheek. He whispered, “you look like you need a hug added to your royal robe.”

Identity was spotlighted with his finely pressed, exquisite formal suit. He held Tiara. In the midst of the battle, she had been knocked off my head. I remembered. The sweet words of life supercharged the oscillation of essence. A tear on my cheek thanked the Father for rest. Under the lion robe, the battle-scarred armor loosened and fell into the hands of the angelic pit crew. The other portions of my personal spiritual inheritance fell into restful rhythms, receiving recalibration from the living letters personally. One holy table was even serving Sushi! But this kid was ready for some spaghetti and grape juice, her personal favorite communion.

That Dallas bruise’s imprints were removed as the High Priest according to the Order of Melchizedek lifted my face and manifested the shine of promise in Numbers 6. He is the Love of the Father that pours out directly from His heart upon the heads of His children. He said, “do not keep the children from coming to me, and those that receive the Kingdom, must receive as children.” He pulled off the helmet of salvation personally to reveal a 4-year old’s face. He anointed, combed, and braided her hair in crown fashion. A perfect foundation laid to receive his ornament of grace.