Isaiah 6

There is something about the vision in this chapter that is super real to me like my soul has always known it.

There are key life moments when I have gone into an almost dissociative state, like when I got married or when the babies were born, or when my parents died.

Even sometimes when I just look at my kids and see something of my own face, or Kelly’s and realise how they are part of our love, and how much I love them and wish no pain for them, and my heart does flip flops.

I almost step out of myself and feel the moment in a timeless way, at the same time being a bit intellectually distant, realising this is one of those life defining moments. Feeling and thinking it’s profundity all in a rush.

For some reason this vision is chillingly real to me like those moments.

I’m taken back to a childhood memory of singing a similar vision in the cathedral choir, to beautiful classical music, which I rate among my most spiritual moments (Maybe it was the controlled breathing!)

It is good and terrible, full of promise, excitement pain and fear.  Those life/death moments share their intensity, are linked yet different.

I think it’s when the seraphim pronounces forgiveness by kissing Isaiah’s lips with a burning coal that it hits me the strongest. The searing pain of sin and the freedom from it in one intimate sensual image.

Also, leading up to that moment, the prophet’s response to the extravagant vision of God’s glory, a growing awareness that he doesn’t belong there.

It takes me back to some of my earliest childhood fears and dreams about God. The fear of inadequacy.

After the vision, the talk again turns to the specifics of Jerusalem’s judgement and destruction,  the remnant, the holy seed, salvation hanging on through fire.

It will end, whether the end of the world or our death comes first, and as I stand before God it will feel like that vision, as I become aware of how little I deserve God’s love, as I get the burning kiss.

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