Picture Perfect: Guest Posting from Michelle Brown

Picture Perfect

I have started a prayer journey also known as a retreat. It’s 34 weeks and each week focuses on specific themes as one journeys towards the inner voice of love and the unique way God has made me and speaks to me.

This week is week 4. I have been on it for much longer than seven days.

It’s focus is about the discord or rather disorder within my life.

Out of place instruments.

It’s a call to stand with the Spirit of Truth and Comfort and brave the ragged and war torn areas of my heart.

The areas that aren’t very pretty.

In fact, if I’m honest, if I’m open and transparent, these places are very much POW camps. 

A valley of dry bones.

Only this valley has been kept very tightly shut from most eyes.

This ravaged earth within has many painted perfect signs and posts along the path that warn any intruding eyes to KEEP OUT!

All the blinds have been shut, the doors locked and lights turned off.

These areas are within my frame.

My frame is not hidden from Your eyes.

My frame fashioned from outside of 

time.

My frame pulled from glory and light eternal.

These places within have been like a death grip around my throat.

I can see the enemy’s boney hand with snarled nails wrapped around the heart of this valley.

This place.

This space within.

If you were to ask me if I was free and fully alive, I would most emphatically say yes.

But…

I have this valley of dry bones.

This valley of broken promises, judgments from those who were positioned to walk with me and guide me, not point the finger.

This valley was meant to be a garden.

This space of my own judgments and opinions on what my family should look like, act like and become.

Vines and thistles and briers that have choked out fragrances meant to attract those perishing with a scent only found in heaven. 

A scent only found in the original garden of time.

This week is a week of being honest with myself.

Why is it OK to lock life out from this place meant to breed and generate new life?

This place has only remained as long as I have allowed.

This place of disorder. 

This place He wants to come into and set the record straight.

I will never be like her.

I will never forsake or abandon those I have birthed.

I will never bring embarrassment to the ones I am meant to teach love and honor. 

This place is created with the very intent of a Gardener’s hand to tend.

This place will play music again, a symphony that draws the wandered, the broken, those who know that they haven’t seen the end of their stories.

A place where eyes are welcomed to gaze at the beauty of the Gardener’s work.

This place was created so that the image of the only begotten Son would be seen picture perfect.

Not by might,
Not by power,

By His Spirit.
By my yielding.

By my surrender and the crushing of lies.

By the planting and tending of truth.

By allowing the community around to walk upon its paths and meet with Him through this dusty frame.