A man, a woman, two that have become one, a child of the Living God, conceive an idea, a small creation of love, bubbling up like the clear waters of the cleanest pure spring, flowing in the crystal coolness from a living rock, for such an inspiration as the wisdom granted from the Creator of the Universe, can only come from the rock grounded foundations of Living Stone, buried deep within the confines of their longing and seeking heart. Words flow out of mouths of praise, whisperings that transcend time and space, flowing brooks of living water, finding origin in a heart filled with the Holy spirit, poured out for an entire universe to enjoy. Let us hear softly those words again?
“I will build a room for when the Man of God comes by, a place where he can rest, a place of safety, a room”, like a ripple in the flowing fountain of crisp clear water so does the thought start, a gentle nudge from a Father who would so love to see His child succeed, taking but a step, a hit ball, a finished sentence, a full meal, lying satisfied in a warm bed, gently sleeping in comforted content, oh how He smiles, as He sees the soft lifting to the feet, turn into a flutter of many step’s by His so precious child.
“We will build it at the highest point on our house as to lift it up to, and into the realm of the Father, an Upper Room!” Majestic in thought as the stones find foundation, resting upon one another, fitted together with the mortar of faith and love, so do the blending of idea and the inspiration of the Spirit, meld into one structure, a living sculpture of stone and wood, crafted in the heart of man through blessings and touch of the Spirit. The stone that is discarded will become as to a living temple, living stones.
“We will build the room as to be unto glory for the Father!” Wood, earthly goodness that expresses all that encompasses the light and life of His creation. Cascades of soft streaming lights, veiled if only gently with curtains light hue of off whites, flowing linens her tender laced fingertips touching glass like the feather tips of angels wings. Gentle breezes the lights dance through the air of the room beaconing and wrapping arms around any and all who’s tired pangs bring feet within gentle touch. Cornerstones of Living Rock, discarded by the world, yet treasured by the Father, given by many hands, molded into one beautiful clay vessel.
“We will place a warm stove in the heart of the room, filling the hearts of all who come with warmth of the Jesus!”, window’s blaze and the rainbow light that flows through gentle ripples, fall into concert harmony with the gentle red waves of warm radiating tenderness, out of the wood burning watchman in the center of the room. His gentle roar a soft purr taking tired guests softly by the hand and resting weary head on it’s warm inviting shoulder, ever inviting all who are tired to come find rest in His arms. The gentle breezes of his quiet breath massaging tired cold feet back to days of forgotten youth. A good supply of wood, fresh in scent and touch, for any and all to use.
“The sleep chamber will be a place of safe, receptive, sanctuary!” Chiffon’s and soft cotton laces, pillows of down, harbor a sleepy head as guests discard burdens outside, come up for a rest at the feet of the Living King. Casting away thoughts of turmoil, the Man of God will will set cloak and shoes aside as the comforting arms of a Living Father takes theirs in gentle touch, laying soft sheet on tired back for a night of gentle swimming in dream filled visions of wisdom from Jesus. Falling into a sleep of comforted cradling the tired Prophet envelopes into the Arms of a Father as His Spirit takes tired heart gently to the waiting cotton blankets. Many blankets all at hands touch away.
“Put in a kitchen and bathroom, so our guests can have all they need to stay without the need to leave!” Kings of old, rich in splendor, adorned with comforts beyond belief or count, still had to call for glass of fresh water, venture far to separate places for bathing and needs. God has created all the luxuries to be at the fingertips of these guest. Spaces eloquent in flow, wrapping natural design around the simple functionality of a perfect Creator. So subtle is their Martha-like function, nowhere does it inhibit the atmosphere dwelling within the heart of the chamber. A cool glass within reach, so does the heart know of Kingly care, when it is so freely given.
“The entire inner chamber will be an alter unto Jesus, encircling in harmony around the middle.” As an inner sanctuary for the Arc of The Covenant, so the inner chamber was designed and unfolded, blending only a most reverent and Holy anticipation from the souls that venture within. A sense of purity blazes within and without, from the light that pours gentle waters forth, encircling and bathing all who come to rest within, in the sweet forgiveness and cleansing of Jesus’s blood. His gentle touch but the breath needed for tired backs, and weary minds to find rest.
“It will be set off from the main house, with it’s own outside entrance, as to grant privacy, but also an almost secret entrance for those who wish to come into the main house, a hidden door to come into the house when wished!” For when the Man of God comes by and goes, unhindered and without pressure of a need or responsibility to have conversations, as he seeks God in his time of solace. He will be given this gift and in share, granted the ability to give back to the Father as given, and gift, become one. So peaceful harbor is such a welcome sight from the raging storms waiting outside.
A Shunammite Woman looks up at what she has made with hand and heart, knowing what she has produced, in no way, was for her benefit, but as a gift unto the Father. Little did she know, it was her life, that would be impacted from that moment on, all, and anything, that is to be significant, in that life, from that moment forward, would be as a consequence of this one act of mercy. Mercy she would show, and a Father would now rain down on her.
The Man of God stops by, waiting quietly outside, perhaps but a moments rest as he is passing by on his journey. No intentions to stay, a but moments glimpse into a window of yet another heart along the long path, he has been place upon. But then the Patriarch comes and bids him in. Broad inviting smile and gentle tone, brings tired traveller into the home, given rest and offering refreshment, a cup is handed from one to another, always in remembrance of a greater passing. Bread is broken, smiles and words exchange, as people grow in and among themselves.
Bonds are formed, with friends anew, a lonely traveller, and a person who received but a nudge of inspiration from the Holy Spirit, ever to be part of each others life, each others story, even unto the ends of time.
The Upper Room By Peter Colla