
Every day on our vacation I walked by her.
This faceless, right-hand missing statue.
She holds a water bucket in her left hand.
It’s rather small, I wonder how she fills it?
She is surrounded by Phoenix.
Early Christians adapted the Phoenix to signify death, burial, and resurrection after the mythology story.

It wasn’t lost on me that this statue, if it is symbolic, has resurrected without a brain, without power, unable to give the right hand of fellowship, and without rest. The right hand also signifies favor and sonship.
So it is with some who although born again are not at peace.
Can you imagine how she walks through life?
Threats real and imagined have stolen her thoughts.
These perceived threats that hold her tomorrows, steal her peace, her rest, and more importantly, without her right hand of fellowship, her power.
I begin to see her from my imagination.
Does her anxiety keep her up at night, infiltrating her every thought and conversation as she flails at the wind pretending to be strong in her own might?
Lacking in faith she runs here and there looking for a manmade solution.
Her need to be significant to a social construct is flimsy at best.
Scared of the future she is afraid to lose what little she thinks she possesses and yet she has no hand to put more in.
Here she stands.
Memorialized.
A resurrection of conflict and deception.
Adorned without the only things that make her His. His hand in her right hand.
She stands upright in declaration sure she has fooled the world. For you see, she has anointing in her left hand but can’t grip her appointment.
So she poses.
She stands sure she has it all together. She believes she is the model of transformation.
She is the new version of the emperor who wears no clothes. We smile at her because to tell her the truth is to bring wrath upon ourselves.
Without the ability renew the mind, she is lost. I wonder how long ago she lost herself?
A woman at war within herself and she can’t even see it. Vapid at best.
“You were resurrected for so much more”, I tell her as I pass her by to sit quietly on the ocean to read my book on this fabulous vacation. “I wish you knew you can create a life that is happy if you just let go.”
Then the Holy Spirit whispers:
“She believed her own press instead of pressing in.”
I answer with a deep sigh, “Nothing smacks you down quicker than the humility of the stumble when your eyes are closed and your ears are stopped up. Lord, thank you that even in the middle of a rest you allow me see visuals of what I don’t want to become.”
“Blessed are those who find wisdom, those who gain understanding, for she is more profitable than silver and yields better returns than gold. She is more precious than rubies; nothing you desire can compare with her. Long life is in her right hand; in her left hand are riches and honor. Her ways are pleasant ways, and all her paths are peace. She is a tree of life to those who take hold of her; those who hold her fast will be blessed.” Proverbs 3:13-18 NIV
“For I am the Lord your God who takes hold of your right hand and says to you, Do not fear; I will help you.” Isaiah 41:13 NIV
“The Lord says to my Lord: “Sit at my right hand until I make your enemies a footstool for your feet.” Psalms 110:1 NIV