A basket without bottom is God new-found.

It’s about the people. It’s about those faces; humble, hungry, hoping, honest. To be happiness for them, to make them smile, to somehow fulfill; this is all. We listen, we hear their hearts. Having touched the Christ, they crave more. Clearer, greater, a barrel without bottom is God newfound. You and me and them; we are all conduits of joy, gardens of flower, trees of apple and pear, apricot, and lemon.

It flashes through us, we bathe necks, waves come belly-basket, a bale of wheat. We dine at the sacred table, the foe probes; he cannot mess. Love holds the shield, we are whole and in finger-less embraces the souls hug. They broaden love; they widen freedom; they coat the multitude; they expiate defamation.

Sorrow, pain, cries, and dies are not to be.

The broken heart finds bond;  souls synchronize, mended, blazing passions quell, devil-fright vanquishes. I am now Him; He is now us. His is in heaven and so to me; sorrow, pain, cries, and dies are not to be. Music; blended, concordant, synchronic, dynamic, efficacious, barreling onward, pervasive, persuasive; saturating, me, you, us, all.

A tear-bed has formed on one side

A tear-bed has formed on one side; a deep slice crosses rivers on the opposite. Leathery cheeks, aged yellow with tints from brown to tan form a catcher’s mitt, for nose and mouth. A scar above the eye warns of past abuse; the visage tilts; not quite symmetric. The sides of the mouth deepen sharply with inflection, the brow configures adverse, easily. Crow’s-feet grow out of both. Eyes red, a telling stress adapted over years, white hair is pulled back. Chin cleft, a misplaced knob to the right; neck moves, a cloth covered turnstile. Do you know her?

Scars tell their story; furrows, their years. Crags map history; (God only, grasps their initial burn) ... Click To Tweet

The faces, cracked and smudged, magnificently turn bright;  cemented etchings still remain. New features glow from beneath their casing. Yes, scars tell their story; furrows, their years. Creases and crags map history; (God only, grasps their initial burn), Yes, disfigurement — but bursting is also light.

Smile breaks dread-lines; submit!

Ah, the miracle. Smile breaks dread-lines; submit! Innocent caring, hearts bearing, love sharing, hands pairing; we kiss the face, pure of God’s radiant presence. It’s Christ with the leper, Elijah with a child, John at Jesus’ breast. A laugh, a dance, a whirl, a word, an affection; swept off of our feet we fly with wings as the wind.

Oh, silhouette turn; oh, profile face up; cosmetics taint not; oh, frown, be gone. He longs to see your countenance and hear your voice. Love makes time stop or go or run or return. It makes eternity begin. Here in His presence we are undone, yet put back together. We are fragmented, still joined harmoniously. He greatly desires your beauty.

Tthe crooked shall be made straight,

In closing, “Every valley shall be exalted, and every mountain and hill shall be made low: and the crooked shall be made straight, and the rough places plain,” (Isaiah 40:4). “And I will bring the blind by a way that they knew not; I will lead them in paths that they have not known: I will make darkness light before them, and crooked things straight. These things will I do unto them, and not forsake them” (Isaiah 42:16). I will go before thee, and make the crooked places straight: I will break in pieces the gates of brass, and cut in sunder the bars of iron”  (Isaiah 45:2).

Friends, the brass gates get broken in pieces and He will connect you back. Next, look at some sundering of those iron bars. He can melt them invisible and fast. “In a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trump: for the trumpet shall sound, and the dead shall be raised incorruptible, and we shall be changed. For this corruptible must put on in-corruption, and this mortal must put on immortality” (1 Corinthians 15:52-53).

All love, all light, all mercy break through

Lastly, the love of Christ constrains us, (to hold together any whole, lest it fall to pieces or something fall away from it). Love does this, but can only be accessed through His broken body. Yes, marred beyond recognition, blood, water, and peace came forth. All love, all light, all mercy break through. A glance joins us to God, reconciled. A look, whole, we are holy, it’s done.

The under-face will surface radiant, beautiful.

Clamps, hinges, grooves, and veneer had roughly formed our faces. These are not necessary now; let them go. Ignore them for they disqualify the holding of soul in life by God alone. The face-under-the-face will surface radiant, beautiful. Un-beheld afore time, others will notice. They will say of you, “There comes the river which makes glad the city of God, there the oil of joy, there the oil of gladness above all thy fellows.”

Love ya.

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