My soul, praise Yahweh! Lord my God, You are very great; You are clothed in majesty and splendor. He wraps Himself in light as if it were a robe, spreading out the sky like a canopy, laying the beams of His palace on the waters above, making the clouds His chariot, walking on the wings of the wind, and making the winds His messengers, flames of fire His servants. Psalm 104:1-4
My words…
Praise
The human imagination: a testament of Your love for Your creation, the door through which I walk when I yearn to leave the tangible behind and enter a world populated by children with stronger faith. My imagination invariably saunters toward heavenly scenes. The sound of crashing waves and furious wind rushes unchecked since there is no boundary or border to stop it, yet there are pockets of serene silence. A triumphant shout shakes the heavens when one of Your beloved turns to You and begs, “Save me!” The heavens are ablaze with light. Not a speck of darkness can withstand the presence of Your radiance. The sweet breath of the Spirit fills the place. Armies of valiant angels wield their weapons to protect me and defend Your church against the Father of Lies. The martyrs and saints stand exalted around You. Your throne is infused with the praise of the trees, the waves, of the singing bird and braying animals, and of Your children. Jesus presents You with platters of prayers, and You fill Your ears and mouth with them – continually hearing and answering. You hold time in one hand and space in another, yet Your hands are not filled. I long to see You with my eyes. But for now, You reign in my imagination.
Prayer for me
My zeal is diminished when I endure long stretches of time trapped within my senses, forsaking the gift of my imagination. Some may claim no use for imagination, but I couldn’t worship You without it. Imagining what could be is not a sign of absurdity. When a child watches rain drops pelt the window and says, “Look! God is crying!”, her words are not folly. They are praise. I pray for that unfettered use of my mind.
Thank You
My imagination is one aspect of my free will, which is a powerful gift from You. It is the only way to see the unseen. It is the only way to envision history: the parting of the Red Sea, the fall of a giant, the crucifixion, resurrection, and ascension. So, thank You for that lens.
More praise
The Psalmist shared from his imagination, and his scene became Scripture. I love to picture You walking on the wings of the wind. When I ponder Your perfect qualities, Your boundless love, Your heavenly home, I cannot explain. I cannot prove. I can only imagine.
