The Water and the Wall

Where There’s a Wall, There’s a Way. 

By Sean Ash

It is like a child born, their parents lost at birth. They grow, clinging to life, pressing forward like water behind a wall, full of need, yet blocked from understanding. If a child has no parents, how can it grow? How can it fend for itself? Who holds it? Who feeds it? And yet, somehow, they survive. They carry on. They grow up asking questions; carrying them like lanterns in the dark. Who brought me here? What came before? Why this life, this breath, this path?

They begin to live. They watch. They study. They listen. And one day, they meet someone else and bring a child into the world. In that moment, without needing a word, something settles. A knowing. This is how I must have come into being.

This is the same when you come to an awareness regarding God. There is a kind of spiritual birth, a deep, inner unfolding that explains how you came to be. It is the moment the water finds its opening and begins to flow.

There are moments in life when we whisper, How do I get through this? How can I cope? And then, someone shows up. Sometimes it is a friend, sometimes a stranger, arriving at just the right moment. And other times, no one comes. Yet you’re still present. And you pause and wonder, How am I still here? I shouldn’t be. You look at the clothes on your back and think, I shouldn’t have these. You sit beneath a roof and feel the quiet truth, I shouldn’t be here, and yet I am.

There are moments you should have died, but didn’t. Moments someone else died, and you asked why them and not me? And through it all, whether you see it or not, everything is happening in preparation for your awakening. The pressure builds behind the wall until one day, something breaks open.

If you examine life closely enough, you begin to sense it, a truth beneath the surface. I’m sure many of you have felt it, one of those moments that stops you cold. A what the hell just happened kind of moment. Then comes the no way. But yes, way. What you experienced was the taste of the sweetness that is to come. Something so unlikely, so perfectly timed, that the odds felt impossible. It didn’t make sense. And that is the hand of God reaching out to you, through the crack in the wall you didn’t know existed.

Just as your body emerged through a chain of causes, your being was kindled in the quiet alchemy of life itself. Like a match waiting in darkness, it held its potential in silence, needing only the strike of breath, the friction of time, to ignite. It was always there, waiting.

What we call materialism is not the source of your existence, but the mirror that made it visible. A reflection crafted from dust and breath, so that consciousness could turn and behold itself. You can see the wall, and because you see the wall, you see yourself. 

For this world is not the only world. Beneath what we see, beyond what we can touch, other layers unfold. Everything may appear material, but not all that is real can be measured, weighed, or held in our hands. There are dimensions woven into this one, silent symphonies playing between the atoms, like unseen currents shaping the waters.

And when you realise that even stars burn out, galaxies collapse, and entire universes rise, fall and rise again, it becomes clear. All things with form have a beginning. All things with breath have an end.

And something, or Someone, stood before it all, and will remain when the last light fades, both giving and breathing, shaping the form, and refining it with breath. For God gives with one hand and takes back with the other, and that is the circle of life.

Like the sky that holds every storm, yet exists before the first cloud and after the final rain drop. God remains. Still. Unshaken. Eternal. Present always.

If you want to awaken, let go of your prejudice, your need to be right, your worship of what can be held and owned. Water cannot pass through a tap that remains closed, and it cannot pass through a wall unless a way is opened. Jesus is the one who opens that way, the channel carved into the wall itself. He is the filter within the system, where muddy waters are cleansed before they can join the pure. For what is unclean cannot flow into what is holy, and what is hardened cannot flow at all.