STARE

Picture the beauty of the lions, how majestic they are;
Their roar so beautiful but terrifying at the same time.

Picture the mountains, their glorious beauty as they stand firmly;
Taking root in the ground as they elevate themselves to the heavens.

Picture the rivers flowing peacefully as they follow their course.
Gaze upon the breath-taking reflection of the peaceful sky;
The blue sky and the clouds, glorifying their Master crafter through their beauty.

Now, picture yourself having a glimpse of the One who crafted all of these beautiful things.
The One of whom Isaiah had a vision of His throne room and
all He could think of was how out of place and dirty he was.

Picture yourself unable to stare at His glorious beauty,
lest you would die, bowing down with your face covered,
shouting together with all the angels at the top of your lungs,
this everlasting melody; "Holy Holy Holy"

Imagine a thousand the echoes of a billion voices, of both angels and Man,
resonating throughout all of heaven. Stare at the beauty of such a picture. Isn't He worthy to stare at?

Take it in, then stare once more, as long as it takes for you to be satisfied, if at all you can.
That is your KING. Stare child!

Armel Lwamba