Barren

For the desolate place I come.

For the desolate I come.

For that which is without, shall possess that which is within.

For the redeemed of the Lord shall return, and come with singing.

For I sing over that which is desolate, a great melody arises from within, a song of the ages, for the ages, beyond the ages.

For that which is desolate will burst forth…

Isaiah 49:16-20 Behold, I have indelibly imprinted (tattooed a picture of) you on the palm of each of My hands; O Zion your walls are continually before Me. Your children and your builders make haste; your destroyers and those who laid you waste go forth from you. Lift up your eyes round about and see the returning exiles, ready to rebuild Jerusalem; all these gather together and come to you. As I live, says the Lord, you Zion shall surely clothe yourself with them all as with an ornament and bind them on you as a bride does. For your waste and desolate places and your land once the scene of destruction surely now in coming years will be too narrow to accommodate the population, and those who once swallowed you up will be far away. The children of your bereavement born during your captivity shall yet say in your ears, The place is too narrow for me; make room for me, that I may live.

Place your hands upon that which is barren, cold, lifeless, made of stone.

For you will feel the earth move beneath you, at first a tremor, then a great shaking, as you hear my cry.

In a moment, in an instant, my water has broken, that which was barren now gives birth.

You revel in the concept, you love the very thought of conception, for it is the height of ecstasy, the pinnacle of joy, the feasting table of those most intimate.

Yet you rest you hand now upon that which is barren, lifeless, without warmth, without affection, absent of desire, colder than stone.

Here you find yourself, here you have found yourself, in the desolate place, the absent place, the place without presence.

And yet, and yet, I am not absent.

You see my lips move, a gentle whisper, a soft movement in the air.

Fullness, abundant fullness, more than you can contain, without limit, without hesitation, with great desire, my fullness pours out upon you.

You feel me within and without, for my hand rests upon you.

For at the last, for at last, that which you long for is here.

You feel my touch don’t you….

I’m here my love, right here….

Just feel my love, be surrounded by my love, embrace that which you cannot grasp.

Isaiah 54:1-6 SING, O barren one, you who did not bear; break forth into singing and cry aloud, you who did not travail with child! For the children of the desolate one will be more than the children of the married wife, says the Lord. Enlarge the place of your tent, and let the curtains of your habitations be stretched out; spare not; lengthen your cords and strengthen your stakes, For you will spread abroad to the right hand and to the left; and your offspring will possess the nations and make the desolate cities to be inhabited. Fear not, for you shall not be ashamed; neither be confounded and depressed, for you shall not be put to shame. For you shall forget the shame of your youth, and you shall not seriously remember the reproach of your widowhood any more. For your Maker is your Husband—the Lord of hosts is His name—and the Holy One of Israel is your Redeemer; the God of the whole earth He is called. For the Lord has called you like a woman forsaken, grieved in spirit, and heartsore—even a wife wooed and won in youth, when she is later refused and scorned, says your God.

You were born for intimacy, to feel my touch, to walk with me, to talk with me. Intimacy shall be the title of your next book.

For perfect love casts out all fear, be not afraid, for your love is here….