Fences and walls
At the end of our time at Bobovac we spent some time in prayer. During that time this is what I saw:
I see a fence built to keep others out. We think it provides safety, but it is covered in vines. We grew the vines to cover the holes in the fence, to keep more people out, to block the holes, to hide behind.
But the vines are pulling the fence apart. What was planted to protect is creating destruction. It is pulling the beams apart.
We build a fence to keep things in. To protect our loved ones we want to keep them close, to save them from the wilds far away, or close to home. We fill in behind the fence with dirt and rocks, blocking it in, using the fence to hold the property together.
But the rocks crack, break free, and knock apart the fence.
So we build a wall. And a castle. And think… we’ll be safe here. We’re protected. Nothing can knock us down now. We’re protected on all sides. The wall is strong, our castle is secure.
But the invading army has an inside man, who lets them in and gives us up. Betrayal leaves us broken, our foundation crumbling and our loved ones carried away.
I see people. Broken people trying to create safety but instead creating division by building fences and walls. By splitting up, seeing differences instead of similarities, can’t’s instead of cans, hatred instead of love. We think we need to be apart from people, to be safe we must fortify our position.
But God is in the vine.
He is in the rocks.
He is in the castle.
The enemy is ourselves, not others. God is peeling back the layers of protection we have built, asking us to vulnerably approach the boundaries of safety to seek to reconcile and restore the broken.
What if we could live without borders?
What if we could love safely without fear of our neighbors?
What if we could realize that none is worthy of God’s grace? God’s love? And yet still He loves us.
I see a future without walls and fences…
literally and figuratively.
A place of perfect restoration.
Come now, Lord Jesus.
Come now.
