The Majestic Stream

The Majestic Stream

Isaiah 32:1-4 ​BEHOLD, A King will reign in righteousness, and princes will rule with justice. And each one of them shall be like a hiding place from the wind and a shelter from the storm, like streams of water in a dry place, like the shade of a great rock in a weary land [to those who turn to them]. Then the eyes of those who see will not be closed or dimmed, and the ears of those who hear will listen. And the mind of the rash will understand knowledge and have good judgment, and the tongue of the stammerers will speak readily and plainly.

The flow of words like a stream shall burst forth from your mouth. A flowing spray, a considered spray, a deliberate, ordered flow. One drop connected to another, a flow. As the drops flow, they glisten, they sparkle, it’s majestic, it’s electrifying. The voice of majesty.

Clarity shall flow. Smooth and clear. Contagious clarity. Inspired, uplifting, multiplying. Passed on, passed over, communal communication. A buzz!

Your hands hang heavy, carry much weight. Dripping with the weight of my anointing. It falls from your hands. There is weight, much weight, my appointing, carries with it much weight!

Disability is in your hand.

It contorts, it withers, it is wracked with pain. You lift it up, but you cannot, there is pain in the uplifting. As you push it up with all your might, all you experience is electrifying pain. You feel it, you know what it is like to be crippled from birth. The lame one, the one who was dropped, now drips with my anointing! You are my drip! One who cannot remember what it was like to walk without the pain of affliction.

But you manage to touch the page to write. But the the oil flows from your fingers. You fear the mess. But persist. But then the colours flow on the canvas.

The disabled artist. The disabled Michelangelo they shall call you. The artist for the disabled. A beautiful picture! Paint with my hand touching yours!

Be not surprised that the King of the drip, has Princes who carry the flow.