The Master’s hands flowed over the edge of the bowl, each finger with a purpose, intent on creation. The Host looked on, their beauty, nothing in comparison to what He was creating.
Their breathe held, he spoke the first moment into being.
The scream of new life, the sigh of exhaustion, pure love, joy, confusion. This started it all. Her first breathe, her place in the world defined. Angela, messenger, daughter, warrior, princess, beautiful. His fingers picked up speed, blurring as He placed every minute, every hour. Day after day, stopping periodically to mourn a moment of pain, or celebrate the moment she chose Him.
After, several years, he paused, and a tear rolled down his cheek. His strong hands stroked the small form as he whispered “my love, this will hurt so bad, and you will make so many choices based on this moment. I wish we could skip it, but others will make decisions that bring this pain into your unsuspecting heart. I promise you though, I will use this for good.”
Once again his fingers began their work, pushing (“for good”), prodding (“for good”), stretching (“for good”), shaping (“for good”). Pausing for a second time, a huge smile spreading across his face “Here is the first time you will see the good. Your pain will bring comfort to someone else, even draw her closer to me. You will find such joy in sharing me, helping others.” As he said these words his fingers continued their work.
Once again his fingers slowed. Gently placing each moment, whispering to the form, reassuring her of his presence. “My dear, this is your desert, you will be here for years and see no way out. Seek me and you will find me. This time is so precious. Here you will discover your value, and begin to view yourself as I do. Finally, the rhythm of life will begin to make sense and you will start to find joy in every breathe I give you. You will let go of everything but me and I will begin to show you what I can really do. Even in the joy you will find pain, but nothing will destroy you. Instead you will become stronger and stronger.”
He continued placing each moment, living each moment as it happened, as it happens, as it will happen, until he reached the end. He slowed to etch in the specifics, the beauty of her mother, the wanderlust of her father. Blonde hair that sparkles with rubies. Eyes of blue that burn green with anger. Passion for life, calmness to contain it. Compassion for those who can’t fight for themselves. He stopped, taking in the beauty of His creation. She shown with joy and peace and would be a light of love to those around her. He looked up into the eyes of the Host and smiled, the anticipation in the room reaching a frenzy. And the Host began to sing “Holy, Holy is the Lord Almighty”
The Master leaned down breathing life into her form, placing the last moment and whispering “this is where you come home to me.”
And in a small town in Texas I took my first breathe. each moment already viewed by a living God, placed specifically for me, tailored to deal with the choices of others, as well as mine.
And He has done the same for you.
“For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s wound. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well.” Psalms 139:13-14
“But now, O Lord, you are our Father; we are the clay,and you are our potter; we are all the work of your hand.” Isaiah 64:8by