This time, I
decided to trust Him farther and sooner, and so I went to Him there on the
cross as Jesus was asking me to do, though I continued not to understand how that
was possible and I felt it must be almost wrong, because it already happened
and it’s one of the most sacred events- but it must be that I am there in some
spiritual way that is outside of time and in a way that only He is aware.
This time, I
saw with a great deal more detail and what that meant was, I saw a great deal
more gore. It was appalling. I have a Protestant background- if I were Catholic,
I would be more prepared for that amount of blood.
His shoulders
were streaked and soaked in blood, and His arms and His face. He was covered
with blood- dark blood drying, new blood running slowly, bruises and cuts and
broken places.
His face was
full of bloody sores and bruises and under the blood and marks, His skin was
white and sickly looking and the whites of His eyes were blood streaked and
yellowish tinged.
I was acutely
aware that His entire back and shoulders and even His sides were a mass of raw
flesh, and that this open flesh was pressed cruelly against the rough,
splintery wood of the cross and beams; His arms were lashed to the cross beams
and His body was twisted in a strange, painful way and His body was propped up
on a wooden block- that detail seemed horrific to me.
Seeing Him
this way, with His own face in the way I know Him, I could not dismiss it. I am by now too accustomed to seeing Him, to
accepting and being within this way of seeing, and so I had no escape from the
horror of what I was seeing. I had trained myself too well to be in it.
Also because
of this, I could not escape the way I had seen Him before- healthy and whole-
“the skilled first-century Palestinian poet,” as Kenneth Baily had described
Jesus, with His keen perception and sharp intelligence, and His wit and humor,
in the way He played with words, and His remarkable personal courage and
integrity, and His courtesy and compassion.
Because I
could see those things, the horror of seeing Jesus broken and tortured and
helpless and dying slowly, fading out, was so much worse. I was wringing my
hands and trying to hold myself together. But almost the worst thing, almost
worse than His raw back pressed against the wood, was the sight of His feet,
one over the other, and the nail that was driven down through the arches. At
that point, I had to make myself breathe slowly and deliberately, to stave off
the horror that was so great, it was almost like panic.
I threw my
arms around Him and they came back slick with blood and I knew blood was on my
face from where I had pressed my cheek to His ragged, bloody beard and cheeks.
“What have
they done to You?” I whispered, in this shaking voice. “What have they done?
Why would they do this? Why would they do this to anyone? How could anyone do
this?”
Jesus raised
His eyes and looked at me and I knew He recognized me, but He was weak and
dulled. It was like looking into the eyes of an animal that has been pushed and
driven and whipped almost to death and is continued to be beaten senselessly,
and it can no longer get up, but lies there, suffering and dying.
“I’m here,
Jesus, I’m here,” I whispered to Him urgently, but I saw no sign on His face.
I know, Jesus replied, from all around me, strongly.
I wanted to
do something, anything for Him, but what could I do? I could change nothing. He
having a great deal of difficulty breathing and could breathe only slowly and
so shallowly, and I wanted to breathe for Him.
I wanted to
breathe for Him and be water for Him and to be anything of comfort. But it was
no good- nothing I could do could prevent Him from dying and He went on dying,
only so slowly!
And then I
knew I didn’t have the strength to stay with Him the entire time; I did not
have the strength of the women who were able to wait there the entire time,
with Him. I could feel myself fading away and I was crying and crying to Him,
“I’m not strong enough! I have to leave You! I can’t stay… I can’t do it.”
Then I was unable
to see anything inwardly, too ashamed to go to Him in the inner rooms, where I
knew Jesus was waiting, and I felt Him gather me up under His arms and place
His hand on my head, and so, after a moment, I went inward with a very heavy
heart, only I still couldn’t look at Him and I was crying and the tears were
streaming down my face.
Jesus was
holding me in His arms in the inner room, but I couldn’t look at Him. I went to
wipe the tears from my eyes.
Let me, He said, gathering up the tears with His fingers. These I will treasure.
“I couldn’t
stay,” I told Jesus, miserably. “I had to leave You.”
You were there.
April 17,
2014, Written three years ago
“Jesus!” I
cried, suddenly, in sudden awe and joy and recognition that went through me
like a sudden flaring up of flame within me, to know Him with me, so close to
me.
Yes, My sweet? He asked, smiling.
“Give me the
faith I need for this moment,” I asked Him confidently. “The faith to be with
You now as You wish me to be. There are many kinds of faith,” I continued,
thinking about it. “There is the faith that flares up into flame, there is the
faith that rests, there is the faith that illuminates, there is the faith that
explains, and there is the faith that gives clear sight. Give me just the kind
of faith that I need now to be with You.”
You are My glory, Jesus whispered and this time, I did
not hesitate to accept- because it has nothing to do with me, it has all to do
with Him.
“Let it be
so!” I cried. “Let me bring You as much glory as I can! Let as much glory come
to You through me as is possible! Let You be glorified through me!”
I saw myself
like clear glass, through which His light and glory shown, and I said, “Yes,
let it be so, let You shine and be glorified through me, let me be like clear
glass so that You and You alone are seen through me.”
January 18,
2017
Tonight, I
was reading and came to this verse (John 7:29, AMP): “I know him myself because I come from his
very presence and it was he personally who sent me.”
As I read
this, I saw both Father and Son, and it was time. Without words They looked at
each other with beautiful, settled love- a long look of heartbreaking love, because He was sent
and it was time and They love us, so to send and to be sent was without
question, but the pain They knew was coming! The unspeakable agony for the Son!
The unbearable anguish of the Father and the Holy Spirit. But without question
Jesus was going, because They love us. There was no hesitation, only
unbreakable, self-sacrificing love.
January 19,
2017
Last night
when I went to Him, saw Jesus immediately standing in the water, the water's
surface beautiful with light.
“I receive
You, Lord Jesus,” I was saying to Him when I was distracted by last night’s
dream. Immediately irritated, but I pushed away the irritation and switched to
faith. “Thank You for the tempering,” I declared, because I cannot let soulish
shame keep me from Him, and I’m beginning to realize that these thoughts that
cause shame are not always from me, they are like arrows of annoying
distraction. I must immediately hand the thought over with open heart,
releasing it and myself to the Lord and return to Him with settled trust. The
quicker I do this, the less time is wasted.
I saw Jesus
in the tomb, swing His legs down and stride out of there with joyful intent
like a lion on the hunt.
Stepping over
the threshold again and the again, longing for the day of complete, unbroken
presence, and no confused or conflicted soul or clouded, fallen atmosphere to
get in the way, only the fullness of His pure, perfect presence, nothing to
breathe but that pure air, everything upheld and aligned in peace and
righteousness.
“I come to
You again,” I insisted, after sight broke apart, as does many times, my
spiritual sight being very poor.
Jenny, you ravish My heart, Jesus said, so quietly.
“Bring it
together, bring it together!” I cried out to Jesus. “But You are doing all
things well,” I added, remembering this.
But you must pray with Me! Jesus reminded me swiftly of His words,
strongly in one wordless moment.
I listened
for His prayer; it was a throbbing, rising sound vibrating through His heart,
resonating through His chest, filling the earth with a call of powerful longing
of love. The love of the Creator. When I set my heart in with His, His longing
filled me, and grew in great force and intensity, and I had to withdraw.
“Your prayer
is a rising sound,” I said to Jesus in awe.
February 15,
2017
“By faith, I
hold You, Prince of Life, in my arms.” I was sunk down into the light of His presence, floating in peace, my voice floating easily in these gentle waves. We are the resting place of God Himself! God! Our
own Creator! He rests, living and loving, in our very spirits. And our lives
rest, living and loving, in Him.
“Here I am!”
(This is all that I am, I am nothing more than this, I can only offer You this,
because it is all that I have.)
Oh, My sweetheart, Jesus said, deeply moved by love. The
confession of my smallness, of my humanity, of my weakness, stirs up His love in this protective and also affirming way.
When I
returned to Him, as He was drawing me into His arms, Jesus reminded me of a
line from a song about Him, “When I am weak, then He is strong,” and I was glad
to remember it.
“May You be
glorified!” I cried out, suddenly realizing. “May You be glorified in my life!
You are worthy! Receive the glory! Be glorified in me!” Because of all the
work, so His glory should show through me, it must! My life must be to the
praise of His glory, and whenever something beautiful or something clearly of
Him shows throw, that displays His glory and His power to redeem and His
authority over my life. So beautiful things must show through, to His glory,
because Jesus put in a lot of work! He bore with me in long suffering love for
years and now He should get the glory! Now He should rejoice in a harvest, His
harvest! He should receive it, it is His by right.
I am not ashamed of you, Jesus told me, as I lifted my eyes to
Him and without words, confessed myself to Him.
“You are
without flaw, Yeshua,” I whispered to Him, and His answer was the expression in
His face, which I cannot describe.
“Jesus, have
mercy, have mercy on us, on humanity…”
I do, He replied simply.
May 9, 2017
Jesus showed
me two glimpses of the warn nest of the upper space, so I have been returning
to Him there, returning to the warmth of His arms and the relief of being with
Jesus finally, having confessed all and found peace.
“No, no,
having no distraction, none of that, none of that, nothing but a perfectly pure
heart,” I cried out, having been caught up in some annoying judgmental thought. In heaven, there will be no such thoughts, never will they
occur, never will they happen, never will they bother anyone, and I insisted
that such thoughts had no place and no power where I was, by faith, because I
wanted to rest in that place by faith. As I was speaking, Jesus pulled me into
His love and I blissfully let the entire thing go and simply gave myself over
to His love and approbation, until I had to leave to write this down.
*
I was
cradling Jesus in my arms, His whole
self at rest and His head nestled down against my shoulder and He is
doing nothing but breathing, and I can wrap my arms around His
shoulders and hold Jesus warmly and securely and pour love upon love upon love
over Him, over His back that was flayed open by the whip, and been hung up so
cruelly upon the cross in agony, but now Jesus is safe and sound and loved,
completely at rest and breathing peacefully and adored, and no one mocks Him or
rejects Him or shames Him, leaving Him in agony, instead, Jesus is sheltered,
welcomed, cherished, adored, safe and sound and whole.
And I am not
left alone in the dark, torn by terror, terribly, inexplicably hurt, left
desecrated, bleeding innocence out into the night, not able to stop this, not
able to defend myself or to keep myself from hurt. I am not all the crippling labels I picked up as I grew up; I am not barren. I am melting into light and hidden in innocence
and breathed upon by God, I have no identity but what He gives me, which is my
first identity, because He made me. And all that matters about my identity is
that I exist just to know Him, to be with Him and to love Him.
“All glory to
You for this,” I whispered to Him.
I receive it.
May 11, 2017
Yesterday I
met with my prayer partner again after a break of a week. So I took over the
verses that sit on my kitchen windowsill and opened the Bible to the Isaiah 54
passage, because Jesus pointed that one out to me, and I prayed on my knees for the Holy Spirit to prepare us and to
prepare the place.
I had had to
repent and repent that morning, because as usual, my flesh was put through the
wringer and so I said to Jesus, “Here I am, Your weak one. It is perfectly
clear that I can do nothing of myself, but as Your strength is made perfect in
weakness, here I am! Do with me what You will.”
As we were
praying, my prayer partner began to identify a certain type of problem in our
local area. When she said this problem out loud, we both groaned aloud. As soon
as I heard the symbolic name of this problem, the Lord was insisting on this
passage that has that name in it. Once, twice, He insisted, so I sat up and
grabbed my phone and typed in the first verse that I knew from that passage and
the link came up and I was flipping through Isaiah to find it.
I found the
passage and, moved by impulse, I lifted the Bible off the
coffee table and swerving swiftly, placed it flat on the ground, where it
seemed to hit with a great, resounding thud, and I fell down before it, my face
inches above the page, and began to read the passage.
As soon as
the words came out of my mouth, I knew I was not really reading this passage and the fear of God came over the room.
Audibly, this was my voice, but it was resounding and resonating with the Holy
Spirit, with emotion and fervor and conviction and courage and authority that
was not mine at all, it was my Lord Jesus’ own. With each word my eyes lit
upon, His intent and thought and emotion came pouring into me like a stream, saturating the tone of my voice.
The Lord was full
of power, absolute authority and purpose and not a shred of fear. Then He was
full of yearning love and pity and resolute protection and then yearning love
was pouring out of Him. Even my hands were stretched out in some way as I was
reading; I was resting my weight on my elbows and my hands were reaching as if
trying to call out to them to make peace, to make peace with Him.
When I
reached the end of the passage, the heaviest anointing released us, so I was
able to pray some in my own words. I prayed that the Lord lift up the
flesh and blood from this entanglement, to separate them.
The effects
of this prayer have yet to wear off. When I was hearing the Lord Jesus’ authority
and fierce intent and the power that He has, it has filled me with the clean,
enduring fear of the Lord, but also, because the passage holds His heart in
other ways, it has filled me with adoration and love of Him more than before.
Afterward, we poured out worship and adoration to the
Lord Jesus, and I thought about how He knelt down and washed the disciple’s
feet! How astounding, how breathtaking, is His humility, His love.
All the
authority and power are His, this power and authority is without end, beyond human comprehension, because He is God. It doesn’t matter how great the
problem. I saw a glimpse, later that evening, of how much power will be
necessary to take this world and cleanse it and to bring His church to complete
unity, but the Lord most certainly has that power! It will not strain His
reserves. He has no fear. He has no doubt. I am like an ant beside Him.
I saw a
glimpse of the whole church, the whole temple of the Lord, all together, with all the different periods of history and nations and tongues
and tribes, and all brought together from different churches, all made perfect,
all put together, all in their rightful place and pouring out worship to the
Lord and to His Christ and each being perfectly placed gave Him glory and
glorified the whole place.
Everyone was glad for everyone else to be there and everyone rejoiced to see how beautifully everyone else was placed, because it was manifestly right. The Lord will make this happen, and the power He has to make this happen makes me know that I am a small ant, a grasshopper. But very loved.
Everyone was glad for everyone else to be there and everyone rejoiced to see how beautifully everyone else was placed, because it was manifestly right. The Lord will make this happen, and the power He has to make this happen makes me know that I am a small ant, a grasshopper. But very loved.
I was dancing
at the edge this huge assembly. I felt so much joy in the Lord that I was physically
dancing while I was seeing this. I was like a small butterfly in an endless
meadow of much more glorious persons, but I was loved and I was not embarrassed
to be so small, but I rejoiced to be there and to have a part.
I am not saying that out of false humility- there were many, many persons there who were glorious and full of the power of the Lord, who were far greater than I am, but there was no embarrassment.They loved me and delighted in me and I in them. I was so glad they were in His Kingdom and had served our glorious Lord and they were so glad I was in His Kingdom and serving Him. I seemed to be on one side of a railing, slightly below and they leaned over the railing to greet me without words. There was joy in our Lord and recognition of family through Him.
Afterward, Jesus told me to look for His goodness, that would keep us from feeling defensive and wondering when the return blow might land. It doesn’t matter, the Lord has outseen and outmaneuvered already and instead has placed His goodness before us. The Lord did show forth His goodness to me, in fresh watermelon and my daughter’s beautiful little face and in the country side dappled in sun and shade, sleepy in the haze of the late afternoon heat.
I am not saying that out of false humility- there were many, many persons there who were glorious and full of the power of the Lord, who were far greater than I am, but there was no embarrassment.They loved me and delighted in me and I in them. I was so glad they were in His Kingdom and had served our glorious Lord and they were so glad I was in His Kingdom and serving Him. I seemed to be on one side of a railing, slightly below and they leaned over the railing to greet me without words. There was joy in our Lord and recognition of family through Him.
Afterward, Jesus told me to look for His goodness, that would keep us from feeling defensive and wondering when the return blow might land. It doesn’t matter, the Lord has outseen and outmaneuvered already and instead has placed His goodness before us. The Lord did show forth His goodness to me, in fresh watermelon and my daughter’s beautiful little face and in the country side dappled in sun and shade, sleepy in the haze of the late afternoon heat.
*
Finally worked up courage to turn inward after all this.
“Lord…”
Sweetheart, Jesus replied, His voice familiar! The
same voice! That the Lord who slays all who stand against Him and against His
Father’s will is the same One who calls me sweetheart! How is that even
possible? But the Lord Jesus Christ who washed His disciple’s feet is the same
One who is seated at the right hand of Abba’s throne, for Whom and to Whom all
power and dominion were made. He has such a flawless heart. He is the
same One who lives in me and I in Him. I am a member of His own Body, His own
flesh and blood.
“Lord Jesus
Christ, I love You, I love You,” I said, overwhelmed to be in His arms, my face
against His shoulder, His own shoulder, the shoulder of flesh and blood that
bore the whip that day.
Jenny, oh My Jenny… He replied, in that most familiar voice,
full of emotion that I have known and heard in that phrase many times
before.
For the last
song of my time with Him, all we did was dance. It was
floating, joy set free in motion. Jesus is living, warmly living and solid.
“Sing, all
you morning stars together,” I called out in joy. “For there is only One God, and He is our God, this is our
God, and He made us and we exist for Him!”
*
In that day
will deliver Israel from her enemies
and also from the rebel powers of evil and darkness.
His sharp and unrelenting,
great, and strong sword
will visit and punish Leviathan the swiftly fleeing serpent,
Leviathan the twisting and winding serpent;
and He, the Lord Jesus Christ,
will slay the monster that is in the sea.
In that day
it will be said of the redeemed nation of Israel,
A vineyard beloved and lovely;
sing a responsive song to it and about it!
I, the Lord, am its Keeper;
I water it every moment; lest anyone harm it,
I guard and keep it night and day.
Wrath is not in Me.
Would that the briers and thorns
were lined up against Me in battle!
I would stride in against them;
I would burn them up together.
Or else, let them take hold of My strength
and make complete surrender to My protection,
that they may make peace with Me!
Yes, let them make peace with Me!
-Isaiah 27:1-5
You are the hope of everyone on earth...
You crown the year with a bountiful harvest...
The wilderness becomes a lush pasture
and the hillsides blossom with joy.
The meadows are clothed with flocks of sheep,
and the valleys are carpeted with grass.
They all shout and sing for joy!
-Psalm 65:5, 11-13 NLT (May 26)
You are the hope of everyone on earth...
You crown the year with a bountiful harvest...
The wilderness becomes a lush pasture
and the hillsides blossom with joy.
The meadows are clothed with flocks of sheep,
and the valleys are carpeted with grass.
They all shout and sing for joy!
-Psalm 65:5, 11-13 NLT (May 26)
Amen.
Come, Lord Jesus.