Psalms 67:7-8 My heart, O God, is steadfast, my heart is steadfast;
I will sing and make music.
Awake, my soul!
Awake, harp and lyre!
I will awaken the dawn.
To some it may have seemed like a frivolous purchase. Silly even. I have a microwave. I even have a fancy coffee pot that boils water. I even heard someone comment “surely you have a pan you can use.”
But as I labored over it with tears dripping down my face , I knew “she” had to be the right shape….not too round and not tall. She had to be my favorite kitchen appliance color…blood red. And most importantly, she had to have the right spout and damper combination….so she would whistle when things got really hot. She loudly would need to be me when I needed to be reminded not to quit.
Every time I fill her with water I am reminded that there is the water of the Word in me. Living water intended for many purposes. To Cleanse. To Heal. To Serve. To Transform.
Every time I hear the almost violent rumbles within her…..an epic battle between the water within her and the pressure of the heat beneath her, I am reminded that I can not keep what’s in me bottled up. Just like my red teapot, there will be a shaking over the fire and I will sweat and cry a tear in an effort not to burst at the seams. I too feel a strangeness because not everyone knows how to handle me when the temperature is this hot.
A three week old diagnosis of Metastatic Ductal Carcinoma Stage 2 became the angry bubble for me.
Immediately, stupid satan….the lying accuser of this “sisteren”…came to kill dreams, steal a future and mainly destroy praise. Throwing every dart of “what if”, “who gonna”, “how this, how that”, and the worst of them all…”why.”
But after allowing a good (or should I say bad) temper tantrum, Holy Spirit comes to have His way He does with me. Oddly. Comically. Lulling me into peace with my grandma’s voice singing..” I am little Teapot. Round and Stout. Here’s My Handle. Here’s My Spout. When you hear Me Whistle, Lift Me Up and Pour Me Out.”
So here I am back to my perfect purchase made perfect by the Blood of Jesus. Though I know with all that water in me Victory is assured, when the pressure is more than I can humanly stand….when this pot in my heart and soul starts to sweat and cry, all I have to do is..Whistle.
Whistle through the steam is my war cry. Whistle under pressure is my praise. Whistle when it’s hot is my testimony.
When I “whistle”, I know God hears me. What He hears is not a lack of Faith but rather that I need to be handled with care. It means it time for me to be lifted and poured out. Poured out the contents of hot Word and Worship….full of His transformative power. Destined for an overflowing of healing and blessing.
Poured out to become the best cup of testimony.
The old saying is that when life gives you lemons..make lemonade. However, I intend to float mine in the amazing Tea that God is making. Should God’s Will be to deliver me via hot process rather than immediate escape, I will trust Him and Whistle While He Works.
Until Next Time – Michelle
5 thoughts on “Whistle While He Works”
Your words are always “on point”.
Wonderful And Very Powerful. God Is So Good.
Beautiful. Thank you for sharing.
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The way you transform pain to words is amazing.
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