THE STIR

The comfortable bottom of the pot, the settled bits of life happily having a tea party where they love to hang out - without commotion, undisturbed by the unknown, lounging blissfully unaware and at the same time full of knowledge . . . . a pot unstirred leads to . . . . 

As lovely as it is for the moment, the stillness of the un-stir, is like the calm before the storm.  OH NO.  OH, yes.  I was not meant to sit comfortably, to fall asleep at the wheel, to long for moments undisturbed (do you hear that echo?  It's me typing in the bathroom.) I was not meant to hunger for the mundane.  Here. IT. comes. The spirit of God stirs within me, a tornado of divine purpose stirs those settled bits to flailing specks swirling in the presence of a GREAT FORCE, not the forceful kind of force, but the kind that compels the moving parts to head in the same direction, like synchronized swimming ants caught in the whirlpool of a draining sink.  In this case, to swim against the current, is not an option.  God is the current.  I am the ant.  I long to be carried away by His purposes, even if it means my life is turned upside down and inside out.  The loving God of the universe has the ability to make sense of things that don't make sense. But then again, what sense does an ant have as compared to God? Very. Little.  

THE STIR.