Liberated in the vise
They asked for a vision.
It didn’t come in the way they expected. It wasn’t a glorious presentation of a beautiful finished picture, a roadmap complete with destination photos. After all, wasn’t that how visions were supposed to be?
Not that it mattered how it was supposed to be. It really only mattered how it actually was.
The vision came scattered, gradually taking form, slowly unfolding. It came in bits and pieces, fits and starts. It came as a handful of puzzle pieces with no box lid to reveal what the finished picture should look like, and not enough edge pieces to build the frame.
They gathered the pieces together and began to examine the shape of each one.
It was difficult to fathom how powerful those pieces were, and equally difficult to fathom how exponentially more powerful they would be when they began to settle into place, with glimpses of a bigger picture occasionally emerging in the clicks and snaps.
It was also difficult to fathom how, even in its infant stage, this vision was blessed for holy destruction.
It came as a hammer and with swift, merciful blows removed pieces that, though beautiful, were improperly placed.
It came as a carving knife, and as it gouged and shaped, new levels of form and function arose from the shavings.
It came as sandpaper, the irritating grit rubbing and smoothing away the splinters and rough edges.
But holy destruction is the painful and breathtaking aspect of holy construction. It is correction in the very process of building and creating.
And so they allowed the vision to shape them.