Then the LORD God formed a man from the dust of the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and the man became a living being. Genesis 2:7
A holy hush brushed warm against his face. His footsteps fell softly as he approached the door. It stood high and imposing but with the slightest press of his palm it soundlessly swung open.
No band of angels hovered; no heavenly fanfare filled the air. That rejoicing was reserved for those who had lost their way and been found; redeemed back into the family of God as he had once been. This was different.
He stepped in. At once, the atmosphere enveloped him and something stirred deep within. Life’s commotion drifted away like tendrils of smoke. No noise invaded this space and time. Though he couldn’t see it with his natural eyes, he knew he was in The Real.
This place defied words; they would have only gotten in the way. No, this called for quietness and confidence in that which felt new but was ancient. A lifetime of having forgotten who he was, he now found himself in this place of remembrance. It captivated his senses.
He could feel its soundness as though he had laid a finger on something solid. Its fragrance was pleasant and heady; soft perfume coaxing up memory of this place from somewhere long concealed. Goodness satisfied his palate. He sensed all the joys associated with coming “home.”
He had been here before. Though no mindful recollection of it, he knew it in the depths of his being.
Thinking he was alone, he started as a soft refrain drifted across the way. “Holy. Holy. Holy.” The voice was pure and clear, singing a symphony of love from that one word. Curious as to who was singing, he turned just in time to see her go out the door through which he had entered.
“Gone to do my Master’s bidding; I’ll be back.” Her voice floated back as she made haste.
Captivated, he stayed and gazed around. Unnoticed before, he now saw others stationed throughout The Real. As each one worshipped, the Presence of the Eternal One permeated this interior place.
What his finite mind could not conceive, his spirit knew. Waves of eternal things solid and lasting washed over him as Deep called to deep. In effortless response, worship rose up within his being.
He didn’t want to leave. This was The Real. Intuitively he knew that what waited outside the realm of this holy place was transitory. Yet understanding came as he watched as one after another of the worshipers swiftly left in answer to some silent command, heard only by them.
Worshiping in Spirit and in truth, he too would be compelled to depart this place for the sake of others. Like a thirsty man taking a long draught of cool, refreshing water, he could drink his fill. Then, when bidden to do so, he would carry it out into a thirsty, worn-out world and tell them of The Real.
Like the others, he could come and go at will, whenever he heard the knock. The Real’s doorway was as close as his heart … for time and eternity.
For days our hearts yearn to remember The Real,
Gracefully Free
[For I always pray to] the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of glory, that He may grant you a spirit of wisdom and revelation [of insight into mysteries and secrets] in the [deep and intimate] knowledge of Him, 18 By having the eyes of your heart flooded with light, so that you can know and understand the hope to which He has called you, and how rich is His glorious inheritance in the saints (His set-apart ones), 19 And [so that you can know and understand] what is the immeasurable and unlimited and surpassing greatness of His power in and for us who believe, …” Ephesians 1:17-19
Blog post Scripture references: Isaiah 30:15; Zechariah 2:13; Psalms 38:3; Songs 1:3; Psalms 34:8; Psalms 42:7; I Corinthians 1:28b; John 4:23-24, Luke 12:34; Revelation 3:20
Linda Jo says
Love this word picture. Thank you, Nanc.
Lisa says
WOW!!! Thanks for the reminder of what my heart knows! Love CP
Jan Torres says
I can’t wait for the whole novel to come out!
Love you, Jan
Nancy Bentz says
Jan, me either! 🙂 Thank you. Love you too!
Wayne Bentz says
Isn’t it interesting that the world tries to make us forget, and ridicules when we try to remind them, where we all come from?
WB
Kathy Lowe says
The Real spoke to my Spirit and there was a settling of calm and love as I read. A tear of love and joy ran down my face. Thank you.