Jesus,
Holy One,
Key to life.
You open gates to freedom.
You give full joy,
Our hallelujah song.
Into our hands you offer the key,
We simply must be willing to turn it.
Into the garden you are there.
In the wilderness you have not left us.
Kneeling on the hill outside our cities of influence do we gain a clearer perspective of what is before us;
The need of a Holy God to set the city free.
Kneeling on the hill do we prostrate our head,
Humbling our knowledge below our heart in surrender to a God who directs us to the heavens,
Who fills hearts and minds with wonder,
Who places the sun in the morning and stars ablaze in the evening.
Yes, the gates have flung open wide.
The garden is open to us,
Filled with olive trees open to our anointing.
The oil drips down our prostrate head,
Oil that runs down our chin,
Our chest,
Drips onto thighs.
And here we are made new;
Heart shift back to that of a strong God.
Peace comes as we step into the garden,
Laying our head low and accepting the anointing,
The pouting of oil,
Life-giving oil over us.
There is hope,
There is strength in the act of surrender.
Maybe the next step is turning the key,
Turning the key,
Opening the door and stepping into the wonder of the garden;
The sacred space where confession is real,
Condemnation is NONE,
Beauty abounds,
Fields of wildflowers sway amongst feet,
Trees cover,
Dripping with the anointing oil as an overflow of the goodness of God.
Yes, let’s take hold of this key of life.
The garden awaits in all it’s wonder and healing.