Call it transitional or transforming I am not certain, but similar to a molecule of water traveling from its source to a destination point to which there is as yet no knowledge. Observing that which can be labeled as the past or even the present that could be as close as yesterday, an awareness is setting in that takes note of items that held interest and opportunity that you may have formally paid some credence to; you now begin to realize it is no longer where you are. This is not to say that the choice is not still there for you to go back and take possession of, but you realize that is no longer you and that you can’t go back. It is almost as though things that once were up front and center are now being viewed in a mist that shrouds clarity of vision and you notice a fading away of a former life. But as the molecule, you do not know where this leads, though it is a progression to be sure but to where unknown and your not so sure you like it. I suppose if one could understand what a process might feel then a further definition could be made. If a person is indeed in a transitional mode changes occur that are perplexing and confusing and you ask yourself why can’t I figure these things out? Why can’t I place an applied logic to it? Where am I going and what is occurring to my former mindset? If indeed the former man must decrease then it is obvious changes have to be made. But while this process is occurring I sense that I am losing grasp of the controls of my life. Do I trust my Lord to lead me in the path of Righteousness, to the place of the Spirit, while denying the mind and its demands.

What is it you want from me Lord? Everything comes the reply. Can you leave all and follow Me? Can you refrain from that which is perfectly legitimate for others and give Me complete surrender? Can you trust Me to know what is best for a man who says he will follow Me? Can my purpose for you be so abstract that the elements of faith are not applied? Can the substance of things hoped for to which evidence is yet unseen stymy a Son of God? What is the Mind of Christ and Wisdom what does She look like? To whom can She be compared? It is the understanding that is lacking and application of my Word that is missing. Is it the Potter who molds the clay into the shape of his choosing and how is it the clay does protest in dismay?

So you grieve over the old man and you run here and there looking for him. Then mourning sets in over the loss of that familiar man named Rob. And you walk down the highway thinking all has been wasted until you sense another Presence along side you asking why are you grieving my friend? And you answer, they took my friend Rob. Look again, O Flesh, Here  I Am.



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