Dear Father, he is so thankful to stand at the Edge of the Future. Looking back, it’s the same feeling as pioneering, trendsetting, forerunning into the promised land.
Lord, he did not like the idea of being vulnerable, but that’s where he has been all along — always standing in an unfamiliar place, called to move forward with no map, no GPS, only Your invitation. It’s the same as being out in the ocean with no paddles, no sail, no rudder — just guided by the currents and the wind.
The Edge of the Future where he is standing today is not the same place as before — You moved him further. The current position is new, risky. Always the same sensation: vulnerable, unclothed in Your presence. He has asked for a covering, a mantle, to feel warm — and he can’t say You did not answer. He knows he is covered by You, but wants to feel it. Perhaps it’s by design — the way he feels makes him long after You daily, with all his might and strength. Any other covering may distract him, taking his eyes off You, or giving him a sense of arrival. Father, that might be a big temptation that would make him drift away in the opposite direction.
Knowing his frame, he is better off being in a state of hope and dependency on You. You would rather have him in a state of fluidity than solidity. To him, being solid means stability and permanence, which leads to staleness. Father, You want him to stay vibrant, pliable, adventurous, dynamic.
Dear Father, he thanks You for the rivers of divine water welling up in his being — it’s refreshingly beautiful, bringing joy like a morning sunrise. Show him how to let it run according to Your will, not his. It is like the sweetness of honey moving, unhurried — a tension, or pressure, that always makes him wonder how to contain it. His being is used to finding release when other sweetness reaches its peak, but this sweetness is about to spill over. Both the rising to the peak and the flowing down of the slow-moving honey, and its texture, produce a tone that is beyond words.
Father, help him to let it run and not intercept the ongoing flow. By nature, he is quick to take matters into his own hands instead of letting the flow do its own thing — which is unheard of, because his entire being longs to do something with the sweetness. Father, he held back in the past. Today he let it go past the place where he would normally hold off, or seek an encounter prematurely, or play it safe. Now he lets it go down its own path while staying back, not knowing absolutely anything about the outcome. Father, standing at the edge of the future, drifting like a drop in the vast ocean, being pulled by the slow flow of the sweetness of honey, he slips into Your embrace like a little child desiring the warmth of Your presence.
Lord, the question that arises: how does he express himself when the flow is dynamic — like all the cells in his being are singing at once — with a joy that is impossible to explain, while standing in a place where none of what is inside has come to pass or materialized?
Father, help Your son to hope in You. To him, the invitation is too large for him to handle, and the temptation for an easy way out is always there. O Lord, remember him, because he feels bare, naked, longing to be clothed by Your presence.