One I Call My Own

My love moves forward like a ricochet, impacting each heart it touches.

Like a small concussion, the site of contact is affected, as if a slight explosion had erupted inside, breaking away the outer shell of decay, so new life has the room to settle in. Then these, who have experienced My resurrection power, are found abounding in joy and thanksgiving, the generating factors which keep My love in motion and propel it forward, touching every life which comes near it, rising up and out from one so it reaches another, penetrating beneath the surface and into the very core of their being, pulsating with the force of My strength, pushing through the layers of pain.

If a heart set apart from Me can only find trouble without knowing a place of shelter, then what advantage is given to those who view Me as foreign; to those who are ignorant to My ways?

But for the hope carried in My elect, many who are perishing would remain in this state of absence, without ever discovering the way of salvation. Because great is the number of those who are lost (those who are unable to recognize their considerable need), the method I have established for waking man from his slumber is to have My love seen and spoken through those who are called My chosen.

With compelling words My elect are sent out, some heading to distant lands (though most I have asked to stay in the place of remaining, for numerous is the harvest which lies before them). So to each, I have given a commission, not to some, but to all of My children; designated territory assigned specifically to them, the ground which they are to till. This is why none should count themselves insignificant, for the responsibility of My calling rests on them too, applied to their life at the time of acceptance when I became known as their Friend.

But many have lost sight of this higher charge, believing the pursuit of those who are perishing is assigned to someone else; the task of evangelism only given to the few who hold a more prominent position amongst the brethren, so they miss the opportunities I have placed around them to form the lasting bond of kinship with those in their community, those I have set just before them, who are in the most desperate need (for what is lacking can only come from Me). Yet until My children recognize their real vocation, see the bigger picture for their existence, the space they have been given to yield a harvest will remain vacant without any crops for tending.

For many are the fields I wished turned, mixed with the rich soil of faith, where the seed I have already planted can take root and germinate into a healthy sprout. But those charged with the care of these plots have yet to recognize ownership, and so have not staked the claim of proprietor over their parcel, thus allowing room for trespassers to invade the land I have specifically given to them, as if choking weeds supplanted the original intentions held when this ground was cut, etching out an area that was ideal for developing a healthy crop. So then this terrain which was meant to yield the vivid colors of life has developed the starkness of wasted land, with the evident cracks of parched ground that is crying out for the refreshing water of My love; awaiting the rightful heir to stand in the permission given to them, then lay hold of their authority and claim every square inch of this property.

Yet, how can a field be correctly established unless there is one with the right ambition to cultivate it; who sees the potential in the parcel I have commissioned them to develop, then looks to Me for direction to gauge the seasons, knowing I have already calculated in the perfect conditions for planting and reaping, always watering in proportion to what is needed, so the roots are able to take hold keeping each seed from washing away?

Though the ground may appear to be in a compromised state, with many dense patches of unwelcomed shrubs, the efforts of interceding will cleanse the land, clearing it of everything unwanted, eradicating any interlopers bent on destruction. Then, what is left is a wide open space, perfect for calling in a harvest, for reaping the consequence of love which was poured out and obtained through My grace; this favor, the only good nutrient found for creating the best environment for growth, where each seed planted has the room to flourish and become a tall stalk of belonging… one I call My own.