Wednesday, November 13, 2013

Fallen

Love knows no limit to its endurance, no end to its trust, no fading of its hope; it can outlast anything. It is, in fact, the one thing that still stands when all else has fallen. (1Co 3:7 J.B. Phillips)

We are cracked and chipped from our afflictions on all sides, but we are not crushed by them. We are bewildered at times, but we do not give in to despair. We are persecuted, but we have not been abandoned. We have been knocked down, but we are not destroyed. (2Co 4:8-9 VOICE)

The destruction looked absolute. The walls I'd raised around me lay flat, crumbled, so much paper maché.

I'd worked hard to erect them, too. Hours and hours slaving away to bolster my pride, save face, and protect this image I wanted others to see. 

I wanted it smooth enough the reflection of myself shone back at me, so I could look and see and say, "Yeah, there it is. I've accomplished this." 

But instead, the picture formed there was yours, not mine. You, frazzled from a hard day with the kids. You, tired of struggling to pay the bills. You, seeking peace and safety and security and joy. In your eyes I saw myself for what I really was.

Pathetic. Weak. Self-absorbed. My ego made me ugly and deformed.

I couldn't persist at it. No one selfish ever can because there's not enough fuel to keep it going. It's voracious, greedy, only ever wanting more, never satisfied with what it has, and never reaching high enough, being big enough.

It grows and grows until one crack at the bottom sends the entire structure tumbling down, and you're left with nothing. Nothing. Fragile. Nothing. Temporary.

Something eternal. Because the one thing that stands when all else has fallen is love. The world explodes around us, the ephemeral becoming null, and the symbol that rises from the ashes is the love of God, a stone pillar formed by the sweat on His brow, the holes in His hands, the blood He shed.

It's unfading, unending, unceasing, undying. It's limitless, timeless, termless, deathless. It's everything, all things, the entire shebang. 

It outlasts, out performs, out endures, never fading, never dimming, never dulling. 

You can't kill it. Jesus proved that. You can't snuff it. It grows brighter and brighter with the passage of time. You can't rub it out.

It is all that is left of me now, and yet it isn't me at all. Cracked and chipped, crushed and broken, in some stage of disrepair, the power holding me together is older than time. And stronger than men, governments, nations, kingdoms. Stronger than demons and evil of any kind.

It hung on a cross. It rose from a grave. It ascended on high. And it came to live in me. Forever. Endless. Infinite. Interminable.




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Suzanne D. Williams  
Suzanne Williams Photography  
Florida, USA 

Suzanne Williams is a native Floridian, wife, and mother, with a penchant for spelling anything, who happens to love photography.

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