Replanting a Holy Seed

Strong?  Why of course, one of the strongest.  Crafted of the finest, well grained; my personality shines with a few good strokes of wax. I prefer the lemon.  Mitered and measured, fitted and fastened, I exude excellence.  My parts fit together in harmony; very useable.  My right side matches my left side, although I probably prefer more the right side.  My insides roll with the flow and hold all the treasures and tools for your imagination.  My limbs and core, flat out, wait to feel the elbows of thought, the tapping pen of pause, the erasure crumbs of regret, the prose of poetic praise or the guiding grace greetings.  I held The Book, many nights left open, pages studied, references supporting.  Marked and memorized. Preached and lived out.  Oiled in prayer.

If I touch you, rub my fingers along your grains that ribbon through, will I hear those words, will I remember?

Open me.   I am deep and wide, spacious and eager.  Look at my detailing.  You know I am committed to my Maker.  I am here to serve.  You too? 

If I pull my self up to embrace you, fold my hands in reverence before you, will you inspire me, encourage this wordsmith?

There is nothing I haven’t felt, all absorbed. Go ahead, craft a love letter, scribble a sketch, color a flower garden, sign on the dotted-line, write in the correct amount, scroll an announcement, think –out a thesis, doodle a design, chart out a chapter or two.  I am such a good listener.

Look me over.  Can you find a scratch? Yet time has healed. Tears seal.  Salt of the Earth.


Isaiah 6:13  And if there be yet a tenth in it, it also shall in turn be eaten up: as a terebinth, as an oak, whose stock remaineth, when they are felled; so the holy seed is the stock thereof. (KJV). 


I am a Holy Seed, an ornament of God-Man made hands. For Glory? He taught us his Glory; some continued to nurture the remnant of that glorious time, that heaven-bound seed. Things change and winds move.  Giving is God's heart. Your glory is my glory to reflect God's heart. 


I am listening. I open the drawers, roll up the top, sit before you and I can hear. Keep writing, it tells me.  Keep speaking of my love; and the words...The WORDS...


But Jesus answered, "I tell you, if these become silent, the stones will cry out!" Luke 19:40  NAS. 


Right now my words are few but gracious. Thank you.  Thank you for your sacrifice. Thank you for an inheritance, a gift of strength and beauty. I hope to honor its presence in my hearthome. 

Note: I received this beautiful roll top oak desk last week, a desk that once belonged to my brave and cherished late pastor, Dan Vasquez.  Soon, it will be moved upstairs and I hope to use it as a place for quiet time and study.  

FYI:  http://www.jewishencyclopedia.com/articles/11638-oak-and-terebinth