May | 22 | Two Jews To Choose From

Dream Word – OBEY

Matthew 15:8-9 "These people draw near to Me with their mouth, and honour Me with their lips, but their heart is far from Me. And in vain they worship Me, teaching as doctrines the commandments of men.'" NKJV

Two Jews To Choose From

I deal in words, and let me tell you, they can be useful tools of camouflage. For example, ask me a niggling question which tempts me to reveal myself and with just a few short descriptive adjectives, I shall hand you a caricature snapshot for your investigation, your titillation, your curiosity, whilst the real me, is running back and hiding in the deep forests of my soul. You shall never find me, for I am as elusive as white Yeti on the snow-capped peaks of the cold and windswept mountains of your seeking.

I deal in words. Attack me and I shall defend myself. Sometimes with violent and verbal devastation but more often than not, with a ticking time bomb hidden in a surprised gift, an intriguing box of chocolates, which will explode in your head and cripple your heart after midnight. I prefer the secret terrorism of a dark word, and the subtle suggestion of your depravity, hidden in a pleasant and public ambiguity.

I deal in words. Accuse me and I shall slip the oncoming torrent, turn you, find your weak spot and make that the real focus of attention. I will break your ribs with well placed words and you will feel the pain forever.

I deal in words. Seek me and you shall find a drag artist, covering himself in flowers and feathers, flashing light from spangley comic frocks, all the colours of a jungle water fall in the mid-day’s rainbowed-ringed sun. I am a diversion for your entertainments and whilst your having your fun, the secret me mocks you from afar. You blind fool.

I deal in words. Sharp pointed ones that like a long knife will slide the black wet soil of your soul and find the clink of a waiting land mine, diffuse it and then yes, I shall get to you, despite yourself.

I deal in words. Nice words, holy words, majestic words, lofty and intellectually appealing words upon the which, I shall ride slowly and with certainly, ever higher on my man made elevator placed by me in the estimation of your mind. I shall raise myself and you shall appreciate it. You shall respect me.

I deal in words. I deal in destruction. I lay the incendiary bombs of insinuation in the speculating basements of tall buildings and like a sick arsonist, stand in the crowd to watch the burning.

I deal in words. I am a chameleon, I am the ultimate hypocrite, the fine feathered Pharisee of the Sunday morning service you come to pay to see.

I deal in hearts. My words undress the soul, gently, like a nurse changing the puss-wet bandage of a third degree burns patient. I bring healing. Even if it’s painful. And you shall know Me.

I deal in hearts. Like a sweaty, bum-cracked kneeling plumber with a blue hot burning blow torch swaying over your cold, dark brown copper pipes. I shall remove the blockage, I shall repair the leak, and by my sweat, by my globule red and silver soldered blood, you shall be warm again. And you shall know Me.

I deal in hearts. Like a builder with a sledge hammer, desperate and without mask and goggles pressing on amidst the pulverised and powdered brick dust, I beat through your bricked up wall, where you are dying without light, dying without breath, dying without food, manacled and tortured by the dark visitations of the madman in the night. I shall rescue you. I shall free you. I shall feed you. I shall break the fingers of the midnight fiddler and you shall feel him no more. And you shall know Me.

I deal in hearts. I collect your garbage. I gather your rubbish into piles and burn them before your clothe-pegged-nosed face. I am the fire starter, the maker of ringed Barbeque on your morning beach, the smiling stirrer of the Cullen Skink, the broken bread on the kitchen sink, the hot morning coffee percolating, calling you to rubbed eyes, arched back, straight standing and deep breathing clarity. We shall eat together in the morning. And you shall know Me.

There is a difference between the Jew of the letter and the Jew of the Spirit. Discern the difference, and you shall know Me.

Listen: - For he is not a Jew who is one outwardly, nor is circumcision that which is outward in the flesh; but he is a Jew who is one inwardly; and circumcision is that of the heart, in the Spirit, not in the letter; whose praise is not from men but from God. Romans 2:28-29 NKJV.

Pray:- Lord, may the piercings of my tongue, reflect the cutting of my heart, the very circumcision of my soul, peeled back in openness before You. Lord, make me a word dealer of the Spirit and not of the letter, that I may be a Jew who is most pleasing to You, my Jesus, King of the Jews. Amen.