Wednesday, May 15, 2013

May 15th

I've been understanding these verses in a new way lately:

"Father, out of Your honorable and glorious riches, strengthen Your people. Fill their souls with the power of Your Spirit so that through faith the Anointed One will reside in their hearts. May love be the rich soil where their lives take root. May it be the bedrock where their lives are founded so that together with all of Your people they will have the power to understand that the love of the Anointed is infinitely long, wide, high, and deep, surpassing everything anyone previously experienced. God, may Your fullness flood through their entire beings.

Now to the God who can do so many awe-inspiring things, immeasurable things, things greater than we ever could ask or imagine through the power at work in us, to Him be all glory in the church and in Jesus the Anointed from this generation to the next, forever and ever. Amen."
-Ephesians 3:16-21 Voice

On the 12th, I was in the inner place with Him and I put my hands on His shoulders and looked at Him and I saw Him so clearly that I fell to His feet. I simply could not stand.
I recognized Him. The sense of recognition was so profound that it swept through me like fire.
I knew He wanted me to walk with Him and I kept trying to walk, but I couldn't get very far because every time I looked at Him, knowing who He was, I crumpled up.

Each time, He would sit down beside me and wait. He is full of loving kindness. He is full of good humor. Sometimes we would end up just laughing. The laughter was contagious.
We were in a meadow and it was so bright I could hardly see for the light. The edges of things kept disappearing into the light. I felt like the air was so heavy it was hot in my lungs. It wasn't painful, but it was overwhelming.
Each time I said to myself, be present here, my heart would open up more fully to who I was with and the knowledge would sweep through me and I'd end up either off my feet or be unable to take a step.
We were in the middle of the meadow, surrounded by so much light that I could hardly see and I heard a voice within me and outside of me.

As soon I heard what the voice was saying, I said to myself, this is too much- this can't be happening, this can't be real. How can I believe this? How can I absorb this?
Because the voice said, this is My Son, in whom I am well pleased.
I ended up on the ground with my arms over my head, hearing this voice reverberate without sound all through me and through the air.
It took quite a long time before we reached the edge of the meadow. The stream was there, but it was deeper and slow and warm from the light, an amber brown color.
He stepped into the water and just that simple thing was extraordinary, to see Him step into the water. It evoked so much about Him, somehow, with the heat and the light and the water soaking into His robe and His profile as He looked down, so quiet and full of peace. I hung back just to watch Him and then He looked up at me, smiled and held out His hand.
Sometimes when I come to Him, I'm tied up in knots over things that I couldn't do or didn't do right or that I'm sure I did completely wrong. The burden of carrying this becomes unendurable when I'm near Him; it also can bring me down to the floor in frustration and disappointment and helplessness.
You feel very strongly about this, He said to me with such tender love, as He knelt on the floor, bending close to me.
Immediately I felt better, just to have Him acknowledge this.
"Yes!" I cried.
You are taking a great deal on yourself, He said.
Immediately, I knew that He was the One that was meant to be carrying those burdens.
"Yes," I admitted.
Let Me carry some of that for you, He offered gently.
So I turned into His arms and let all my worries, fears, regrets, all the things I could not do, ease off me and onto Him. It left me limp with relief.
I have seen Him, in some way, in so much light that there was nothing to be seen but this light. He was in this light, but His own light was greater; His entire body was incandescent light. I knew that His light was life itself, that He is the very radiance of the Father's glory, sustaining all that exists.
I knew that His life was entirely through and through me, His life was my life. I knew this and I could feel this and I could see this. He was the vine and I was one of His branches and all my life was His life, pure gift.

Then, having read this, consider the fact that God does not have favorites. He does not have favorite people.

This is just how He is, this is just how He loves. It's the nature of who He is.
I re-read my little book by Amy Carmichael recently. I love this chapter:
"Leaves and flowers- down to the least bud- are nourished by the living sap within. They do not cause it to rise, or regulate its flow. They do not understand its mysterious power. But as it flows through them, it revives them. Renews them.
"We may have others to help us. Or we may have no one. But whether we are set in families or must face circumstances alone, we know that we must depend on something that is not of ourselves to keep us fresh and green.
"Sometimes we are too spent even to pray for this renewing life within.
"We need not pray! There are times when all that is asked of us is just what is asked of the leaves and flowers: They remain in the plant; the sap flows up to them:
"As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you. Now remain in my love..." (John 15:9)
"The most tired of us can remain, stay there, be there- no words can be too simple to explain what our Lord means by this: He says, simply, "Do not go away."
"Even if we are completely silent, asking nothing, only letting our hearts rest in quietness in Him... He will cause the renewing life-sap to rise..."

-Amy Carmichael, I Come Quietly to Meet You, Chapter 39