I was dwelling in a land of famine
No, I cannot put that on Elliot…Elliot has to be his own person
The table where we feast on the good and the true
Where we savor bites of the Bread of Life
And drink deep from flasks of Living Water
Why be concerned about physical appearances?
When Abba looks at the heart?
I invite locusts to my table
I welcome locusts to my feast
My feast where my God calls me to come and rest and feast on that which is good and true
I welcome locusts to feast with me and my God in a land made for me
Land made for me by blood, holy, being spilled.
And this banqueting table?
It is good and satisfying.
And this land?
He rescued us to bring us to it, as He did His saints of old, Israel
And it was a land of milk and honey.
Then I sit and groan and worry
I welcome in locusts
They eat honey
They steal from the good that He desires to give
And they gather and they swarm
And the blur my vision
All I see is the bad
All I can think of is the disastrous
So I want to stop.
When I stop
And I hear His still small voice
And I feel His hands, pierced, wash over my eyes that were blurred
And He unveils my eyes to see this elaborate canvas of love
A display of beauty in the unexpected
He places a crown of beauty rather than ashes on my head
He lets me see beauty every day
And He shows me the goodness and design of Adam and Elliot’s brotherhood
And He fills my heart and mind with a wild imagination of all that is possible
I see kisses on heads all day, every day
I see E bringing A his glasses and hat before leaving the house EVERY SINGLE TIME
I see A comfort E when E was carsick on the way to Delhi
And He is displaying wonder the whole world over
I make myself comfortable at this feasting table
I drink deeply of that Water, Living
I fill up on the richest of fare
And I fall at His feet in gratitude
For giving me these little ones to love