The Source
Words seem to fall flat now-a-days when I try to type something here that could soothe the soul. They thoughts and words all used to come so quickly, so naturally.
But that was when I thought I knew it all and when I thought that the words flowing from my fingers had healing in them. I know now that I am wretched and that my words are nothing and it is not good to come quickly into the presence of the King.
No; it is much better to tread softly on ground I do not know.
I would rather be silent now than to speak an untruth.
I used to think there were words I could say that might add to what has already been said. That, somehow, this idolatrous mind of mine could think a new thought that would play the strings of eternity.
But what could my flailing words add to the Word of God? What can the clay say of the potter except that He is much stronger than she - and that He forms goodness in the pressure? No; I have nothing to tell that has not already been told by the Word of Truth and retold a thousand times over by his children on earth.
I have no light in me that I should claim as my own (although I've done just that a hundred times before). I am only a small moon that inconsistently bares the light of the Sun.
I used to think that my words had power and that what I said here could change the world. And maybe I still do. But to me it is becoming more and more empty. I find less and less strength from my own words. They are so very frail and how could one dead thing breath life into another?
No, I must not try to feed you so full of words that you'll have no need for actual Truth. Words tickle the ears, but Truth pierces the heart. And I have no fresh water to give you except what you have free access to this very moment on your own.
Yes. I do think now that it is better that we all drink from the Spring of Life ourselves and only come up from drinking long enough to call another to come and drink as well. I've found it is so much better from the source Itself than secondhand from someone who drank deep and tried to carry extra along to give me. The first has the power of everlasting life in it and it forms a living spring deep inside my soul. The second will only get me through today and leaves me even thirstier tomorrow.
Let us drink deeply from the water of life Himself and leave behind all the lifeless, lukewarm reservoirs that others have tried to save for us.
But that was when I thought I knew it all and when I thought that the words flowing from my fingers had healing in them. I know now that I am wretched and that my words are nothing and it is not good to come quickly into the presence of the King.
No; it is much better to tread softly on ground I do not know.
I would rather be silent now than to speak an untruth.
I used to think there were words I could say that might add to what has already been said. That, somehow, this idolatrous mind of mine could think a new thought that would play the strings of eternity.
But what could my flailing words add to the Word of God? What can the clay say of the potter except that He is much stronger than she - and that He forms goodness in the pressure? No; I have nothing to tell that has not already been told by the Word of Truth and retold a thousand times over by his children on earth.
I have no light in me that I should claim as my own (although I've done just that a hundred times before). I am only a small moon that inconsistently bares the light of the Sun.
I used to think that my words had power and that what I said here could change the world. And maybe I still do. But to me it is becoming more and more empty. I find less and less strength from my own words. They are so very frail and how could one dead thing breath life into another?
No, I must not try to feed you so full of words that you'll have no need for actual Truth. Words tickle the ears, but Truth pierces the heart. And I have no fresh water to give you except what you have free access to this very moment on your own.
Yes. I do think now that it is better that we all drink from the Spring of Life ourselves and only come up from drinking long enough to call another to come and drink as well. I've found it is so much better from the source Itself than secondhand from someone who drank deep and tried to carry extra along to give me. The first has the power of everlasting life in it and it forms a living spring deep inside my soul. The second will only get me through today and leaves me even thirstier tomorrow.
Let us drink deeply from the water of life Himself and leave behind all the lifeless, lukewarm reservoirs that others have tried to save for us.
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