Harvest

In the dry place.

In the desert place.

In the desolate place.

In the parched place.

In the scorched place.

In the starving place.

In the hungry place.

In the place of lack.

In the place of despair.

In the place of frustration.

In the place of the wrestling.

In the place of tension.

In the place of drought.

In the place of limitation.

In the place of restraint.

In the place of tiredness.

In the place of exhaustion.

In the place of the weary.

In the valley of dryness.

In the place of defeat.

In the place of loss.

In the place of disaster.

In the place of the turn.

In the place of the turnaround.

In the place of substitution.

In the place of the replace.

In the place where I will replace.

In the place of dryness.

Repeat after me “It is well”.

For what is it you see?

The dry wrung out sponge that has expressed its last drop.

Look again, what is it you see?

A drop of rain appears from no where and rests upon it.

For I will sustain you.

For I will pour out a blessing so vast that you shall not contain it.

For the drain shall become a fountain.

The dry place an oasis.

The desert a lush green pasture.

The desolate place a place of a vast community.

For my streams shall flow in the desert place.

For I shall not leave the thirsty without water.

I shall not leave the hungry without food.

I shall not leave you alone.

Shall I not restore unto a hundred fold.

For that which was is no more.

For the no more is now past.

For those who fail to make a contribution will be cut off.

For I am bringing forth a new supply.

There is a fountain flowing deep and wide.

For I shall not leave you lifeless.

For I am not giving you lip service.

For my words shall serve the purpose of which they were sent.

For I am breaking the chain that have bound you.

You see it again now don’t you.

The bird coming down to bite the fruit of the tree, but as it takes off it takes the whole tree and the land beneath up with it.

Look again what is it you see?

My body chained to the ground with the strongest chains. The wind of your spirit comes and elevates me up to the heavens. The whole land comes with me as I fly upwards.

I am taking this ground.

I am capturing that which held you captive.

I am subjecting that which ruled over you. For it shall be subject to you.

Your time of service is over.

For the servant shall become the ruler.

The prisoner, the prime minister.

For I am releasing my freedom.

I am breaking forth.

I have arrived in this place.

I have placed my foot upon this ground.

Upon the ground of my word I stand.

It bursts forth before you.

For I am breaking open a way.

For I am popping the cork on the bottle.

I am releasing my overflow.

It shall come like a flood.

It shall come like a fountain.

Unexpected.

Uncalled for.

For I know what you are asking for.

I have heard your cry.

For there shall be an uprising in the place of defeat.

The dead shall rise again.

That which was written off.

That which was expunged, shall burst into life.

For your enemy could contain a drop, but shall not contain my ocean.

Rivers in the desert.

Floods in the desert ground.

Life in the place of death.

A blossoming in the place where you thought nothing could ever grow again.

For you saw the abject desolation, you felt the viciousness of the attack, you still bear the scars of what was said and done.

On purpose, and for no purpose, they declared over and over “not fit for purpose.”

Yet I shall have the last word on this matter.

For my purpose breaks through.

What is it you see now?

Your word like a giant battering ram, that breaks through the wall of a giant dam.

For the place that contained.

The barrier that enforced a limit.

The wall that was erected to separate the one side from the other, the lack from the abundance, shall be shattered.

For you see it again now don’t you?

Standing on the precipice, standing upon the edge of the canyon, standing upon the place where there once was water. In a moment a giant wave comes and floods the land as far as I can see. I can still feel the sea spray upon my face.

Push through.

Expect more from me.

Expect the largest giants to fall.

What is it you see now?

A picture of my puny self from behind. Looking like skin and bone. Covered in the scars of battle. Giant scars, blood streaming from the cuts, then covered and healed by your hand. A huge giant appearing before me, looking like a dwarf in my presence.

For it is not a fair fight. Just show up for battle and watch for my hand at work.

For I am restoring unto you the years.

For I am restoring all that was eaten up by your enemy.

What is it you see?

A giant banqueting table, yet every meal that was placed before me, was taken from me as soon as I had tasted it.

Look again what is it you see?

I hear the sound of a giant truck, the ground shakes as it approaches. I go out to have a look, as the door on the back of it is opened. It is packed to the brim with all that was taken, and so much more.

For this shall be the work of my hands.

For when the work is done.

For when your work is done.

For when the instrument is complete.

For when the instrument is played.

For when the sound bursts forth.

It will be the sound of triumph.

It will be the proclamation of my love.

For as you place the sickle in the dry ground, you shall reap an abundant harvest.

For it shall not be as before.

For it shall be nothing like as it was before.

For in the cursed place, I am bursting forth with blessing.

For my love abounds all the more.

For you shall forget all the humiliations of your youth.

For in the place of humility, I will cause you to govern.