The head and the heart need to find agreement. This is the struggle for many of My children. They have heard My words taught, but it is the application of My precepts that hinder them and keep them from walking in faith.
For those I am about to launch into ministry:
A catapult slings an object forward with a certain point of landing devised ahead of time, with its logistical positioning predetermined so the object being propelled will have the greatest impact upon the enemy’s encampments, obliterating many of the weapons he uses to deploy his tactics.
Behold what manner of love the Father has given to us, the love He has bestowed upon, and extended to, a world filled with those undeserving; to receive such benevolence and grace, accepted as those He calls His own; now, referenced as His children with the noblest lineage. He seats them amongst the Heavenlies with the crown of glory placed upon their heads, which is given to those who have accepted His invitation, with all the rights and privileges of true heirs.
True contentment is not found in your surroundings or the things you own. It is found in Me, in who I am, by the one who seeks to dwell in the sanctuary of My presence; whose eyes are fixed above the temporal things of this life. For now, their sights are focused upon the place where I dwell, as if entering a safe harbor with quiet waters and tranquil seas; guided into port by the soft whisper of My voice (which always points to the perfect place of entry as the corridor for discovering inner peace) where the cares of this world can be abandoned, left behind in the rough seas of struggle, cast aside as if thrown out into the waves.
I have the power to transform a life!
Consider the analogy of the butterfly: often it is used to draw a comparison of what a person goes through when they become one of My children. At first, something unattractive marred by sin, then through the process of metamorphosis becomes something new, something beautiful. With brightly colored wings caught in a breeze, this once dim creature has the ability to flutter about, enjoying the new stage she has entered.
Equipped now for battle, prepared for the fight, the warrior stands ready, poised and girded he takes the proper stance, yet heels dug in will profit him nothing if his heart does not lead. The battle must first be fought from the inside, lest in the midst of the struggle his feet take flight.
My body is comprised of a hand-picked assortment and filled with unique individuals, each held with the aim that not a single one, in the natural, resembles another. For I do not desire an army of duplicates (all looking the same), but of one which bears the reflection of My Son. He is accepting of anyone who calls upon His name and offers no refusals due to appearance regardless of age, race, or gender (this is simply not an issue whichever concerns Him). Because His heart is held in the steady, constant place of perfect love, it will not diminish no matter the look of another, for He himself was not someone who, on the exterior, affected curiosity, nor was his form something which drew much attention.
Where faith and love collide, this is the intersection of our meeting, when your heart decided to believe in Me, to give Me a chance, and said “Yes”. Now we are joined together in this beautiful dance where the continuing flow of My goodness is lavished upon you. With an elongated motion to the movement of time, I have orchestrated a relationship which is carried throughout your lifetime, until, at last, you stand at eternity’s door where the hosts of heaven will be waiting to greet each of those I call My children, identified by the mark of salvation.
A clay pot is shaped and refined by the Potter’s hand, set upon the wheel He spins. His movements gently guiding the clay into the formation He thinks best suits this container. For each is created with a particular use in mind, the design He had imagined from its original inception, the point when He brought all things to be. So as He sets about His work there is a smoothing effect which happens with all of the rough areas being honed, giving a polished look to the exterior making it appear to be flawless, for the mixture of motion and water have been able to cover every imperfection.
At the edge of the water, she stands, gazing out upon the endless horizon. The steps she has taken thus far have brought her right up to the shoreline, where the ground beneath is no longer solid, and she feels herself starting to sink just a little, for the dry land to which she is accustomed to walking feels less stable. With the sand and the water mixing together, the current begins to flow towards her, lapping over the tops of her feet. Even though this rush of low waves has only covered a small fraction of her being, there is a sense of elation which rises inside her as the tide rolls in, washing over her ankles. It’s gentle surge, like a whisper, is calling out to her with words held in a reassuring tone, encouraging her to come further in, that all will be well if she decides to go deeper.