Dream word – FACE
The face of grace
Before the channel tunnel existed thereby connecting Britain with France, the only way to get across the English Channel to so furious a continent, was by ferry. My parents were not wealthy and did not possess a car, so when my mother wanted to visit her daughter, who was married to a British soldier then billeted in Germany, we would catch the train to Dover and board the night ferry to the Belgian sea port of Ostend. It was always a night ferry we travelled upon, simply because travelling at night was the cheapest way for many of us poor folks to cross the English Channel!
I remember my father, an old sailor himself, striding with certainty around the rolling decks, his duck feet spread at 45 degrees keeping him in perfect balance whilst other land legged people toppled and fell against the hard cold rusty metal of an old ship in great need of repair. My father had this strange gait about him even on the land, walking feet spread apart, as though the very earth itself at any moment might just begin to tilt and sway and have him over. It’s a genetic propensity for sure, for both myself and my son have exactly the same gait.
When on these ferry crossings, beginning at the bow, my father would walk me round the ship, pointing out with fond and familiar knowledge, all the accoutrements of such vehicles that were fitted once in the now dead Scottish shipyards to travel the vastness of God’s impenetrable deeps. Last of all of course, we would arrive at the stern, the British merchant flag flapping in the cold middle watch spray, the pale moon riding up and down on the horizon of my wide and tired, gazing eyes and the black sea churned into phosphorescence light by the diesel grind of the low frequency elephant grumbling propeller blades. I remember it now, the moon shining pale in the midnight sky, a faint halo stopped short and diminished just inches from its poor shining and the sea, alive with shimmering white, its cut waves all scurrying like white rats released into the black distance, as the ship made its way to a foreign port afar. If we would listen, even death and life would speak to us of light and love in the face of Christ Jesus.Allow me to explain.
You see, the moon of course is dead. The only light it gives is that which it reflects from the sun, that pale and reflected which shines so very little in our darkness from its poor dead and pox marked face. The sea however, is alive and the churning of the large ship blades producesa phosphorescence of luminescent light. These two marvels, one above and one below, are but poor pointers to a forgotten world now most clearly proclaimed and published, even sung abroad by these two crying and most competent ambassadors of life and lip. The forgotten world these tow witnesses speal of is the world of God, which is a world of light.
In this material realm, it was God who commanded light to shine, to manifest itself in material form. It is this same God who also caused the rising of the morning sun on that first of days, who from then until now, like an obedient puppy, day after day, comes scampering to the rear of the daily life of our own ship as it grinds its way slowly on to a foreign port, until in the morning of our own ressurection God again, according to His own perfect will, shall commanda rising, a shining, an epiphany of a paradigm shift if you will, which that like an expectant Apollo, waited for by ground crew with dry and baited breath, will slowly appear from the dark side of our moon to gaze with awe and thankfulness on the blue and shining planet of our heavenly home, hung against the silver spotted and infinite depths of space. Yes, like the shining of the morning sun, which is an emergence from deep darkness, the rising of the Son of God in our hearts, is a rising from the dead, bringing a crackle of a communication upon a long blackout and bursting us into open conference with the Father, Son and Holy Ghost and the happy community of all the saints in light. This shining of the Son in our hearts is in all understandings, the rising of warm life on once cold dead heartsthat will find its maturity in the ressurection of our bodies.
This shining ressurectionlight from the Father, is the knowledge of the awesome Majesty and Splendour of God, never to be quenched, never to be diminished, never to be exhausted and all bursting forth in the face and from the face of the Saviour, the Sent one, the Supreme Commander of all things. This light is contact, this light is community, this burning, this bright source of the ever shining luminescent outpouring of the everlasting love of God, is to be found in totallity in but one place, and that place is the face of grace, and that place, that face of grace, is nothing else but the face of Christ.
It is not idolatry to think on Christ’s face. It is not idolatry to prime our dreams with loving light and to so fill our subconscious darkness with rays of warmth so that our spirit would blaze against our closed eyelids, making them chatter with flickering REM sleep! For thinking on the love of God so late at night, musing on the Master with open and thankful hearts, will so mightily push back our soul on the bow of His morning, that on our waking, we will be let loose like a blazing comet, to burn across the heavens of our own coming day.
Tonight, think upon the face of Christ, think upon the face of grace.
Listen: “The four living creatures, each having six wings, were full of eyes around and within. And they do not rest day or night, saying: ‘Holy, holy, holy, Lord God Almighty, who was and is and is to come!’ Whenever the living creatures give glory and honour and thanks to Him who sits on the throne, who lives forever and ever, the twenty-four elders fall down before Him who sits on the throne and worship Him who lives forever and ever, and cast their crowns before the throne, saying: ‘You are worthy, O Lord, to receive glory and honour and power; for You created all things, and by Your will they exist and were created.’” - Revelation 4:8-11 NKJV
Pray: Because when I think about You Lord, how You saved me, how You raised me, how You filled me up with the Holy Ghost, how You healed me to the utter-most. When I think about You Lord, how You picked me up and You turned me around, how You placed my feet on solid ground, it makes me wanna shout, “Hallelujah, thank You Jesus, Lord you're worthy of all of the glory, and all of the honour, and yes it makes me want to shout it out, Hallelujah! Thank You Jesus, Lord you're worthy of all of the glory, and all of the honour and all of the praise!”
“When I think about the Lord”Lyrics - Rita Springer
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