The Embodied Incarnation

Allow me to set the scene. This meditation came to me while taking my two little Shih Tzus outside — a routine that often tests my patience as they take their sweet time. But today, I was grateful for the delay. Sitting back in my Adirondack chair on the patio, the sun broke through the clouds and kissed me with its late-morning rays. I closed my eyes, breathed it in, and in that moment He whispered to me the revelation that is this poem.

I see you there,

Peeking high in azure,

White dappled sky,

You, the Summer Sun,

I feel you on my bare flesh,

My shirt, gray soaking rays,

Warming core and radiating,

Late-summer warmth spreading.

On my cheek,

My brow,

My bare arms,

On unshielded shin.

I recognize it,

Your Love kissing,

The surface skin with Son,

Spreading through sinew.

Your Hand as you warm,

This clay with your Mercy.

Prior to pressing in form,

Molding me when malleable.

Then comes the breeze,

Your breath as you cool,

This twice formed, fired

Clay as vessel repurposed.

A chalice of chosen diversity,

Paradox in passionate profile,

And a Messenger bearing signed,

Sealed missive of boundless mercy.

Yeshua as Father

Father as Holy Spirit

Holy Spirit as Yeshua.

Amen. And Amen.

As Always Dust,

To You,

For You,

From Him,

In Me

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