Deterioration

I was shown a house that once looked mighty, but now it was completely deteriorated. It was no longer beautiful. The bushes had overgrown, and the landscape was unkempt. The buildings themselves were outdated and poorly maintained. Despite the new mask the property wore, I could still see its past glory. It had probably been a sight to behold and the talk of the town—a luxury that was likely unobtainable for most, but admired by all. People must have come to see this land and its once-hearty buildings. The people who owned it were likely just as great as the property itself—it was only a reflection of them.

But why had it deteriorated? Why had it been left unkept? Then my thoughts shifted to the owners themselves, and I realized they too had been consumed from the inside out. The light in their bodies had been extinguished, and those holding on to even the smallest spark within them were cradling it deep in their chests. The property was a representation of their lives: once great, but now heavily affected by many things, withered beyond recognition. Withered by unknown forces, by the excesses of others, and by their own ignorance. Even when they reached out for help, they never seemed to find balance. These were good people, but they lacked God. So their souls rioted against the downcast situations that came rapidly and relentlessly. Looming shadows oversaw this, but a source that maintained those little sparks in their chests didn’t allow them to break—God

What came to my mind was Joel 2:25: "And I will restore to you the years that the locust hath eaten, the cankerworm, and the caterpillar, and the palmerworm, my great army which I sent among you.” This deterioration was desperately waiting for restoration.

IFY