Born From The Mire

Born from the mire.

The seed of abundance born from the mire.

Birthed in the flood, in the raging torrent.

The seed buried, the fruit hidden, the multiplication under the radar.

In an instant, in a moment, before your muddied eyes, growth upon growth, sprouting forth all around.

Hidden, then in an instant revealed.

For the mud is golden, my manufacturing plant, my production vehicle. Literally the place the plant is manufactured.

Look for it when the flood subsides. Look for it in the rain, in the mist, in the clear waters. For you shall see the fruit in the clear waters.

For there is purpose in the mire. Your fruit is in the mire, your growth is in the mire, your capacity is in the mire.

For I am moulding something new in the clay.

For the mire can’t contain my growth, it bursts forth on the left and the right, it erupts powerfully from the ground, all around.

For I am moulding the containers to carry the fruit of my seed. For the container is not for the seed, it is for the fruit.

For I am the potter moulding the fruit from the mire, from the burning clay comes the tree of fire, hanging from the branches your unique fruit.

Yes I have not forgotten your unique fruit.

For it is transparent, it is see through, smooth and yet unbreakable, fashioned directly from the clay, the froth and slime, from the slippery shall come the solid.

Psalms 40:1-5 I waited patiently for the LORD; he inclined to me and heard my cry. He drew me up from the pit of destruction, out of the miry bog, and set my feet upon a rock, making my steps secure. He put a new song in my mouth, a song of praise to our God. Many will see and fear, and put their trust in the LORD. Blessed is the man who makes the LORD his trust, who does not turn to the proud, to those who go astray after a lie! You have multiplied, O LORD my God, your wondrous deeds and your thoughts toward us; none can compare with you! I will proclaim and tell of them, yet they are more than can be told.

From the burst of heat, shall come my vehicle for growth.

The soft magma, holding up and supporting my fruit.

Yet what is it you see?

The hot magma, the lava boiling at the centre, held by that which is clear, that which has clarity, that which is rock solid.

Cool to the touch and yet hot at the core.

Look again, what is it you see?

For the fruit grows in your hand, from the size of an apple, to the size of a giant pumpkin.

The larger it gets the more you see the fiery seed at the centre.

The rock solid fruit, moulded in your hand, spins in your hand, grows in your hand. Clean and clear held by the muddied dry hands.

From the slippery shall come the smooth.

This is my factory, from whence my fruit is produced.

Isaiah 32:15-20 Until the Spirit is poured upon us from on high, and the wilderness becomes a fruitful field, and the fruitful field is valued as a forest. Then justice will dwell in the wilderness, and righteousness (moral and spiritual rectitude in every area and relation) will abide in the fruitful field. And the effect of righteousness will be peace internal and external, and the result of righteousness will be quietness and confident trust forever. My people shall dwell in a peaceable habitation, in safe dwellings, and in quiet resting-places. But it the wrath of the Lord shall hail, coming down overpoweringly on the forest the army of the Assyrians, and the capital city shall be utterly humbled and laid prostrate. Happy and fortunate are you who cast your seed upon all waters when the river overflows its banks; for the seed will sink into the mud and when the waters subside, the plant will spring up; you will find it after many days and reap an abundant harvest, you who safely send forth the ox and the donkey to range freely.