Without Precedent

What preceded you?

How did the grass become green?

What was the colour of it before I made it green?

Who pre-seeded it?

Who prepared the soil?

Who made the ground?

Who formed the Land?

Who stood on the water before the land was?

Who went before you?

Who made a way?

Who tilled the soil?

For who preceded me?

For you shall be without Precedent.

So they will say “I’ve seen nothing like this”. This will be a regular expression on the lips of all those who come.

Who made a home for you, when you did not even know what a Home looked like.

A piece of this, with a splash of that, with a touch of love.

Heck let’s put a tennis court in the middle, just so you and I can laugh at it every time you walk past!

Lay aside your concerns, put down your bags of weariness, let go of tiredness, stop worrying about what the future holds, for it is clear who holds your future. It is clear who prepares your path.

Who has put in the groundwork? Who has prepared the ground? Who established this place? What was it’s origin?

Did I not say that you would inhabit houses that you did not build? And vineyards you did not grow?

If it is not now, surely it is to come?

Lay aside the weight, lay aside the wait, just make yourself comfortable.

Get used to a life of abundance!

Just lay down, just lay it all down, rest upon that which grows.

Who is it that causes growth?

Who determines the boundary of it?

Who chooses their height?

Who imposes that boundary on my design?

Who determines the length and breadth?

Who sets the time for growth to start, and its duration?

Who stops my flow?

Who can replicate my design?

Who knows where to start and where to finish?

For I know the start from the finish, I am the start and the finish, I am the first and the last. There was no-one before me.

Come away and rest awhile, lie down in the place of growth, make yourself comfortable, make yourself comfortable with growth.

Where have I established a perimeter?

Where do I mark the boundary?

The natural boundary is the smallest most feeble thing, the grain of sand, awash with my flow.

Though the waves pound against it they cannot cross over.

What defines the edge, the edge of the flow?

Is it not the sure line, the shore line? The place that defines, the place of definition, the place of contrast, the place of the tide, the place of the wave, the place of joy, the place of beauty, the place of romance, the place of intimacy, the place of exposure, the place of the breeze, the place of propulsion, the place of the crossing over.

Yet I am not defined by the boundary, I am not restricted by the edge, the limit, the natural containment. For I walk on the solid as much as the fluid.

I love to mess with the mindsets, with the perceptions, with the evidence, with the principles, with the logic.

Why be ordinary?

Who called you to be normal?

Why compare yourself to the norm? Why look for a fit?

For where I have placed you, looks out of place to you.

You look for the fit, yet by the time you get in position, you have outgrown it.

You look for a familiar shape, a usual pattern, an expected outcome, and yet none of what I am doing now you expected.

I caught you off guard, and yet I was your guardian?

Everything that you see is now so unfamiliar?

It’s like you have been running so fast, at such a pace, that when you open your eyes you just stop and wonder how you got here.

Did we not speak of acceleration?

Did we not speak of expansion?

Did we not speak a lot about preparation?

You remember it now don’t you. The weird image of those in robes walking across the edge of the stream as they were bathed in the glory of the Father.

Are not the weird things, those things that are without precedence?

How is anything of what you have ever done, been done before?

How is anything of this new era surprising?

Let’s go for a walk in the garden, let’s go for a walk in the park, let’s go an explore all the ripening fruit in the orchard.

For behold the old has passed away and the new has come.