At The Table

April 29, 2013 Journal

I blogged about my dream. But before that, when I lay down, immediately Jesus pulled me to Him and He was so real.

I keep saying that. It must be that I am growing to see Him more and more clearly each time, or slowly over time. I think that makes sense.

He had flowing light brown hair and a light brown beard that I immediately liked. I remarked upon this appearance a little, but mostly, I just looked deeply into His eyes.

You’ve been busy thinking, He had said to me, before this.

“Yes, I have so much to consider,” I said, thinking back on it all- the stuff about seer prophets and churches and how unusual it all was, how far from the normal life that I had been wanting for so long.

You are a prophet, He said.

“Yes,” I said, resigned. “I’ve sort of been picking up on that, lately.”

Do you like it? When Jesus asked this, there was sadness in His voice, as if He had given me a gift that He knew I wasn’t thrilled about.

“Oh sweetheart, of course I do!” I assured Him, honestly, showing Him my heart. “I love it. I love that this is who I am- a part of who I am.”

Even with all this? And Jesus gestured, in a way, to the blog post that I hadn’t posted, about feeling odd and peculiar and how sometimes I wish I had a normal life.

And then I was really confused and uncertain, because Jesus has so rarely let me know that He felt sad about something I was doing or feeling. It was unsettling, and I had to ask Him directly about it, why that was happening, and if He really wanted me to be emotionally authentic with Him.

Jesus reminded me of one of the chapters of Amy Carmichael’s book, where she had shared a short poem she had written, to capture something Jesus had poured into her heart:

      "I remember in times past almost desperately repeating to myself these lines, written as though spoken from the lips of our Lord:

“Am I not enough, My own-

      Not enough for you?

Am I not enough, My own?

      I, forever and alone,

I, needing you?”

      "It was a long time before I could honestly answer, "Yes, you alone are enough for me." I remember the turmoil of soul I experienced before committing myself to follow Him on whatever path He would lead- remember as if it were yesterday. But at last- oh, the rest that came to me when I lifted my head and followed! For in acceptance there lies peace.

      "God bless you and utterly satisfy your heart... with himself."

      -Carmichael, Amy "I Come Quietly to Meet You" Chp. 31 All Means All

Remembering this passage, I understood what Jesus was asking and also, that this was the level of intimacy that I had with Him now- Jesus was opening His heart to me as deeply as I opened mine to Him- He was being emotionally honest with me. He was doing this not to make me feel guilty, but to express Himself, to be heard or felt or received. This was how deep the level of mutual trust that there was between us.

So immediately, I said, “Sweetheart, even with all that, I love it. You know that I do, You know all things. Look at my heart and read it. You know what is there.”

The wonder of being so close to Jesus was all awash in me yesterday, when I thought about how much farther my understanding had grown by experience. Jesus was full of love and I was full of wonder and I just kept dropping into the moment, trustfully and completely being there, and Jesus was so present and strong.

Again, I remembered who He was with joy and I threw myself into His arms. I declared, with loving abandon, “I worship You!”

My head was close to His head and I whispered in His ear: “Your name is above all names,” and

Jesus turned His head and looked at me, with those incredibly deep, deep, intense eyes of His. And I was almost afraid, except that His eyes were deep like that because of unspeakable emotion that moved up from the depths of Him.

And at some point, the wonder of this washed through and through me, I said to Him, “This is how close I am to You!”

I remembered what Jesus had said, two years ago- This new creation, this union between you and I, this new life that comes of My life in you- this is unique, He had said, which such fierce delight and joy, wonder- which had confused me at the time, because I could not understand why He felt so strongly about it.

Now  I understand it more, but I also understood that everyone is a unique creation in Jesus, never to be seen before or after, irreplaceable, and I said, “Please take care of my ego so I can simply be secure in this, my place in You and focus purely on showing other’s their place.”

And we talked about that, and I was sure that was what I wanted. Then we moved through that naturally and then I was slipping into sleep. Then I woke and dreamed that dream I wrote about.

I was just thinking about this- about wishing to pass on to others the extraordinary uniqueness of their place in Him- how much He delights in who they are together in Him and He said to me, interrupting my thoughts- Then you must know it for yourself.

Now I have to write my anxiety out. I’ve been anxious all afternoon long, because of that blog I had posted.

Didn’t I give you that dream? Jesus reminded me.

“Yes,” I admitted.

Didn’t I tell you to post it? He continued.

“Well, yes,” I admitted.

Then Jesus reminded me that each believer is a stone that is being put together in His house and that He is the one in charge of each stone. He has all different kinds of unique stones and they are each in a different place in their walk and understanding with Him, and He knows where each is placed, and only He could see the whole, unbroken picture in a way that the rest of us cannot.

He said, Didn’t I tell you that you are a prophet?

“Well, yes,” I said.

I know this anxiety and guilt of old- it is out of proportion to reality, but my anxiety is so high I can’t reread the blog to remember it better. Anyway, I know the anxiety is out of proportion and it will pass away and I won’t even remember this whole afternoon until I reread this and think, oh yes! That time.

Eph. 6:19  My most urgent request is for clarity of utterance every time I open my mouth to speak. I desire that my words will be gifted with inspiration, boldly articulating the mystery of the gospel.

April 30, 2013 Journal

My anxiety is making it impossible to write. It continues to linger, though it has abated somewhat.

I finally commented on that person’s blog and their reply was strongly encouraging.

When I read it, Jesus immediately said, Is that not confirmation enough? Like, can you finally let go of your anxiety, sweetheart and just know that I’m using you?

May 2, 2013 Published Blog

I was in the stone house, in the front room that is open to the lawn. The outer wall is set with pillars, only the inner wall is solid. On the front room, there is a couch and on it, I am resting with Jesus, His head on my shoulder and I can see His dark hair. He is wearing His usual white robe.

Outside of the front room is a green lawn and beyond it are the woods. In the woods, I know there is a small steam, but I can’t see it right now, because I am facing inward, toward the inner room, and I am looking up at the ceiling.

For the first time, I see that the ceiling is white and there are beams across it that are black. It’s quite lovely and reminds me of rustic French homes. Also, I remember that the beams of the house are of cedar, from Song of Songs.

We are resting quietly, peacefully, and my thoughts are drifting loosely. I was thinking about how the woman who anointed Jesus before He died had broken the alabaster jar, how that signified she was holding nothing back, burning all her bridges and pouring everything of value out on Jesus.

I thought about how we are like jars of clay, cracked through and frail. I felt my own human frailty, a fragile piece of pottery with a webbing of cracks running all through me, hardly able to hold any weight and feeling as if I am never doing anything that matters- not loving enough, not strong enough, not clear enough.

"I'm a cracked pot," I confessed to Jesus.

Perfect, He murmured peacefully, not bothering to lift His head.

Released from guilt by His response, I was filled with a playful joy.

"You are a Man of few words, aren't You?" I teased.

With you.

I wondered what Jesus meant by that; I was trying to think if there was anything in the Scriptures that talked about if God is talkative or not. There didn't seem to be much material on the subject. In general it seemed that sometimes Jesus was at dinner parties and sometimes He was going off on His own to pray.

"So, with extroverts, are You extroverted?" I asked, mulling this over.

Jesus sat up and looked at me, His eyes bright. Would you like to see? He invited.

"What, now? You mean, like, right this moment?" I asked, taken aback.

Jesus caused me to know, by showing it to me, that there was something like a dinner party that was happening right then, that we could attend, if I wished. I could see it, a warm grouping of rooms set in the woods, some distance from where we were, with lots of glowing lights.

This was overwhelming to me, but I had been overwhelmed so many times before in that place that I simply said, "Okay! Why not. Sure."

Immediately, I was standing in the front room of that other house. I was receiving a lot of impressions very rapidly about how this house looked. It was like opening and closing one’s eyes quickly. This sometimes creates a confusing jumble of images and I have to stand still and rest in Jesus and re-center my faith before I can begin to sort through the images.

I could see that this was an Eastern house, of wood and colorful pillows and fringed silks and lanterns. Jesus was with me and we were standing in this lower room looking up into an interior room that was two or three steps up. It seemed to be evening. At first, the foyer had seemed empty, but then there seemed to be a lot of people around us.

I kept seeing the people moving around in a confusing way and I was having trouble getting my eyes to focus on them and I couldn’t at first tell how many people there were because of this overlapping of images. It seemed like the foyer was sometimes full of people moving around and greeting one another and myself. There was no doubt that they were full of joy and good humor, and were full of welcome.

One person came and greeted me by taking my hand. Though this startled me, I was able to receive their welcoming gesture with good faith, holding myself still. I shook his hand and then he leaned forward and kissed my forehead, which caused me to lean back in surprise, though I felt nothing but the loving acceptance and joyful recognition of this other person. It was as though he knew me, but I did not know him and still had a hard time focusing on his face.

I was drawn up the few stairs into a dining room with a low table and floor cushions. The walls were polished wood. It had a very Indian or south Asian feel. There seemed to be a lot of jewel colored fabrics everywhere. It was luxurious looking.

To one side was an open interior door and that opened to a side room, lower down and beyond that, it seemed there were windows into the yard. On the other side was also the same arrangement, but I couldn’t see clearly too far in either direction.

I was at the foot of the table, Jesus was at the top of the table, at its head. It was a long table. Sometimes it seemed so long that I couldn’t see everyone seated there, but it was never so long that I could not still see Jesus clearly at the head. I sometimes looked down the table at Jesus and caught His eye, which filled me with a little thrill of joy each time.

On the table were place settings before each person; I could see a gold plate, rimmed with bands of color and the utensils and goblets and napkins, all in a colorful jumble of not perfectly clear seeing. On the plate, I saw there seemed to be red pomegranate seeds. I ate one, just to see if I could. I could, but I couldn’t taste it.

I could not hear the conversation, though I could watch the gestures of the other dinner guests. Jesus, for example, did seem to be enjoying Himself very much, looking right at home, often laughing and gesturing freely with His hands. Every time I caught His eye, it was full of laughter.

I could clearly see the guest seated next to me at the corner of the table. This guest was dressed like an Indian princess, swathed from head to toe in turquoise silk, with gold embroidery, her eyes were beautiful. Looking at her, I heard the word, bride, and immediately I thought with warm recognition and fellow feeling, “Ah, she is a sister of mine!”

Next to this woman was an Asian man, dignified and self-contained, also dressed in silk, and further down there seemed to be other people, but I could not see them so well.

On the other side of the table, when I looked, I was startled to see a perfectly ordinary looking man- like a farmer from Idaho, with an open, generous, simple face, dressed in perfectly ordinary clothing. He seemed to radiate love and simple good will and patience.

Next to him was a taller, thinner man wearing a cowboy hat. He seemed to be full of down to earth insight, earthy good humor. He seemed to have a lined face; he looked older. Further down the table, I could not see.

As I was taking all this in, I felt a strange sensation, as though the atmosphere around me were rippling up. I looked around, but I could not see what it could be. The sensation came again, and I almost caught words. I began to wonder if maybe someone was speaking to me.

I tried to focus my eyes on the source of the possible sound, down the other end of the table. A young woman with dark curly hair came into focus, and this young woman did seem to be speaking to me- she was leaning forward, looking at me with love and interest and expectation.

I looked at Jesus beseechingly, because I couldn’t understand what was happening or what I was supposed to do.

He did not speak, but His eyes were full of love and understanding. So I leaned forward, cupping my hand around my ear and said, "I'm sorry, I'm not good at this, could you say that again?" and I strained to hear.

How are you? the young woman said, suddenly, clearly, like when you finally find the right station on the radio and the words jump out.

"How am I?" I replied, stunned by the ordinariness of this question, after all that effort just to hear it.

Then all the guests and Jesus just burst out laughing. The laughter swallowed me up. I knew I was the object of their merriment, but I did not feel bad or embarrassed; I felt loved.

"I've overwhelmed, that's how I am!" I declared, throwing my hands in the air with good humor. "I have no idea what's going on!"

Soon after, or right then, or sometime after, the dinner was over and the guests began to stand up, so I stood up as well. There was the usual jumble of confusion that accompanies movement but I saw that the others were going down into another room, which seemed to be a living room, with rugs and floor cushions. We went through that room and through the open doors to a green lawn and it seemed to be at night, which was the first time I had experienced night in that place.

I thought to myself, “Oh, they have a lawn like ours, only it looks out into a jungle, instead of the woods.” I went to the edge of the jungle and looked into the velvet shadows behind the vines and trees. It was peaceful.

There were stars in the sky above and a bonfire and chairs. I went to sit in one and suddenly saw that it was an ordinary camp chair, with striped canvass. These sorts of details both surprised and delighted me.

I sat down in the chair, which was next to Jesus, but then I pushed my chair back, so that I could see the whole scene of the fire and the starry sky and the velvet darkness of the jungle and people talking quietly and peacefully around the fire, watching all this and knowing that Jesus was there, with them.

Then Jesus began to tell a story, so I came back and sat down on the grass beside His chair. Jesus put His hand on my head for a moment and then went on talking. By this one gesture, and by the fact that His hand remained close to me, I knew I was loved.

I could not hear what He was saying, but I did not mind, because it was peaceful just to be there. It seemed as though I fell asleep. When I woke, it seemed as though hours had passed and the night had deepened and it was time to go, but this also seemed to happen in no time.

Then I found myself standing barefoot on the clean stone floor of the front room, and it was familiar and home.

(Sometime after posting this blog, I went back and copied it into my journal, and at that point I copied and pasted the following verses. They were what I had found when I was trying to look up anything that would help me understand what I had experienced.)

And He said to them, “Strive to enter through the narrow gate, for many, I say to you, will seek to enter and will not be able. When once the Master of the house has risen up and shut the door, and you begin to stand outside and knock at the door, saying, ‘Lord, Lord, open for us,’ and He will answer and say to you, ‘I do not know you, where you are from,’ then you will begin to say, ‘We ate and drank in Your presence, and You taught in our streets.’ But He will say, ‘I tell you I do not know you, where you are from. Depart from Me, all you workers of iniquity.’ There will be weeping and gnashing of teeth, when you see Abraham and Isaac and Jacob and all the prophets in the kingdom of God, and yourselves thrust out. They will come from the east and the west, from the north and the south, and sit down in the kingdom of God. And indeed there are last who will be first, and there are first who will be last.”
-Luke 13:23-30

Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good,
and his loyal love endures!
Let those delivered by the Lord speak out,
those whom he delivered from the power of the enemy,
and gathered from foreign lands,
from east and west,
from north and south.
They wandered through the wilderness on a desert road;
they found no city in which to live.
They were hungry and thirsty;
they fainted from exhaustion.
They cried out to the Lord in their distress;
he delivered them from their troubles.

-Psalm 107:1-6

"Fear not, for I am with you;
I will bring your descendants from the east,
And gather you from the west;

I will say to the north, ‘Give them up!’
And to the south, ‘Do not keep them back!’
Bring My sons from afar,
And My daughters from the ends of the earth—

Everyone who is called by My name,
Whom I have created for My glory;
I have formed him, yes, I have made him.”
-Isaiah 43:5-7

“Thus says the Lord of hosts:

‘Behold, I will save My people from the land of the east
And from the land of the west;
I will bring them back,
And they shall dwell in the midst of Jerusalem.
They shall be My people
And I will be their God,
In truth and righteousness.'
-Zechariah 8