Last night, immediately I was with Jesus. There was some mutual amusement over the ease of it and over the nervous energy that remained from reading those things I had found yesterday. He knew I was nervous- like stage fright and dubious and also excited. But I knew much better now, what I should do, which was to try and see.
And so immediately I went back up and began to try to see better. It was hard.
At first, I saw how the city stretched out all around the corner where I stood and there seemed to be a looming building inside the walls and opposite the gate but the dimensions seemed completely off, but that is how it was appearing.
I kept trying to figure out what was in the courtyard, but I could not. Nothing came into focus through the light. Indistinct shapes would loom up, but not take clear form. Then I went up the stairs of the massive building- I went very slowly, almost on my hands and knees, trying to see and to feel. There were times when I had to stop right where I was for a moment. Jesus was very patient with me.
I reached the open doorway and felt the door with my hands and then I saw the inside very clearly- the floor was made of beautiful rosy squares of stone arranged in patterns and there were huge gold pillars with flaming lamps, golden, hung from there, and windows high up in the wall, showing a blue sky with white clouds.
The entire space was full of light- shades of light- white, gold and rose. And at the back, there was another staircase and this rose up to a blinding light.
Upon seeing that, immediately I was huddled at the side of the room, sitting on the floor with my back to the wall, behind the line of pillars.
“Is that the Father?” I asked Jesus, in awe and fright. “Maybe I shouldn’t be here….”
I buried my face in His chest, above His heart; I was tucked under His arm and I heard someone say- It’s His little beloved!
I couldn’t see who was speaking- when I tried to see them, I saw light upon light, but I knew that was more than one person or being nearby and that they were kind and they sounded glad to see me. And furthermore, it struck me that they knew or identified me in terms of my relationship to Jesus- they understood that relationship and it sort of defined me.
Jesus pointed out a quiet, shady space that was to the side of the throne, so I said, okay and we were there. I saw how there was a space behind the throne, between it and the wall and the space was shady, quiet and peaceful. Immediately I thought of how Moses had asked God to show Himself and God had said, I will show my back to you, and I thought how the back of God is a safe place to be.
So we were sort of in the back place. Again, I got the impression that there were other people or beings there, but I couldn’t see them. But there was a door, or a curtained opening, so I went there and at first all I could see was darkness.
But I waited, sort of to allow my eyes to focus again- maybe after all the light in the larger room, my eyes needed to refocus. Then the seeing settled and I saw that it was a long veranda, pillared on one side and on the other side, doors in the wall.
There was the first door, and I passed that by. There seemed to be somebody waiting there. Then there was another door and I opened that and it was a room full of gold.
I turned to Jesus, puzzled. “Gold?” I asked Him, thinking that was odd, that God should care about gold. “What does the gold mean?”
Jesus gave me the most loving glance ever and He said, so lovingly, you know what it means.
I remembered Jesus showing me that gold was acts of love and then I realized that it was the storehouse of loving acts that God loves to remember- because He remembers all our lives, but He especially treasures the acts of love.
I went to the next door and I opened it and there was someone kneeling there and Jesus said the room was for intercessory prayer.
I was full of awe and quickly closed the door. I felt that I could, in fact, go on exploring, but I was so worried about further interrupting something or someone holy that I went back to the throne room, because in part, I knew it wasn't a private chamber.
I knew Jesus wanted me to go up to the Father and I kept trying- I kept climbing up the stairs on my hands and knees, because it was overwhelming, but I couldn't make it all the way up. At one point, I said to Jesus, anxiously, “What does the Father want with me? What will He want to do with me? What does He expect from this meeting?”
Jesus did not give me an exact reason, but caused me to understand that there was some freedom for mutual relationship to develop, not a set ritual or exchange.
At one point, I thought, I’m such a child in this place, I’ll just go up the stairs like the little child that I am, so immediately I saw myself about two years old- just a toddler, really and I went willingly up the stairs, but as soon as I looked up into the blinding light of the Father, knowing that the unseeable Father was hidden in the light, I got scared and I ended up standing on the stairs bawling exactly like a little toddler would.
Immediately someone that I couldn't see came and scooped me up in their loving arms- I don’t know who or what- and they passed me to Jesus who cradled me lovingly in His arms and was comforting.
Then I moved out of that seeing and thought, I have no idea how I’m going to approach the Father. I hid behind the throne at one point and tentatively reached my hand up and the Father reached His hand down and our fingertips brushed.
Immediately I put my fingertips to my cheek and then to the stone and then to my mouth, in wonder, as though to be sure they were mine and not burnt to a crisp by the holiness of touching God.
I had no sense, all this time, that the Father was in any way impatient. Jesus reminded me that I had sometimes, of myself, gone up to the Father- and I remembered those times.
Finally, I tried to simply be present, to be present in myself and present in the experience and present to the Father and I made it up the stairs and into the edge of the light and it was as though the Father were a figure of a man that I could not see clearly in the light, and He knelt beside me in a similar posture to the way Jesus has, many times, to comfort me, and the Father held onto me under my arms, at my rib cage and held me securely, reassuringly and He spoke to me.
But what He first said, I don’t remember. What I remember first was my asking Him, "You aren’t angry or disappointed in me?"
And He said, How could I be angry at you? You love My Son.
And I remembered that verse, but I knew that wasn’t anything I could take credit for, so I said, “but You made me that way.”
And the Father bent down closer and He whispered in my ear, you were Mine first.
These words echoed all through me and it was as though I could see down through or past time, to that point.
And I gave you to Him, the Father finished.
Then, at that point or later, the Father said lovingly, you may go now- not in the sense of trying to be formal, but knowing that I was desperate not to offend Him and that I wasn’t sure what was expected and so giving me permission so I wouldn’t feel guilty.
He released me and I sunk down so slowly, like a leaf, down through the air and then into our rooms and Jesus was there and He took me by the elbows and pulled me into His arms and everything was clear and comforting and He put His face on my hair.
He said, I’m pleased with you… No, listen, He added, curtailing my immediate and usual protest. Listen and take this in: I’m pleased with you.
I felt this shy wonder. “Even when I made so many bumbling attempting that must have been so embarrassing for You?”
Even then. I'm not upset about that, that’s expected, He replied.
I was aware of how comfortable a home those rooms are, and it was much easier to be trustingly present there, to be present to Jesus and His love washed over me like a tide.
“You long for me,” I said to Him, in wonder.
All the time, He said.
I worshiped and adored and loved and cherished Him. I had an easier time staying in the moment, though it seemed we were caught up in flames that I could not see, but that enclosed us. I was able to stay.
April 29, 2013 Published Blog
I had a dream early this morning.
I was resting in the embrace of Jesus and then I slipped into a dream. I was standing on some lush, green landscape that somehow I knew.
However, I began to rise up into the air, slowly at first. I saw the trees and then the hills and then the landscape open up below me.
Then there were clouds and the ocean and then I was moving faster and I saw the earth spinning, blue and white, in the blackness of space.
For a moment, I thought I was going to fall and I felt suddenly afraid. But immediately I felt arms wrapped strong around my waist; I knew that embrace. He whispered in my ear, it's Me and I relaxed immediately, both into His arms and into the dream.
We moved backward, it seemed, deeper and deeper into space and I could see the lighted globes of planets and the spinning arms of galaxies streaking past. I began to wonder why this was happening and then we stopped.
I turned in the Beloved's embrace and looked at Him. His face was so grave and so serious that I wondered for a moment if I was with the Father and not the Son or perhaps the Trinity personified.
In the dream or experience, I didn't pause to try and understand this, I just moved through it, with the confidence of long intimacy and love. I said, "Which One are You? Show me Your hand."
And He did and I saw the nail marks, so I knew it was the Son. "Oh, it's You," I said, smiling at Jesus with love and He smiled back at me.
Then it was as though I was drifting through space in His arms and there were other people, but I wasn't sure if they were actually there or not. But one of them made a loving gesture and my heart warmed.
I thought, "Ah, love!"
And it was as though the loving gesture was something bright tossed up into the galaxies and it made all the stars shine brighter.
Then in the dream, it was as though this man and the Beloved were dancing to jive music in the sky. It was joyful and free and spontaneous and full of love. (It reminded me of scenes from The Fiddler on the Roof.)
The dream began to change- the space around them began to get compressed, more and more, until God and the man could not dance and were instead tightly confined into a small, flat, narrow box that was locked.
Immediately I was angry and dismissive. "This is just a dream," I said to myself. "This is just a dream after all, because no one can lock God in a box."
I tossed the lid of the box open as a gesture of contempt for the idea. It came open like those old cellar doors that were used to close off the stairs to the outside- like cellar bulkhead doors.
I was about to discard the dream and think about something else when Jesus whispered in my ear, Wait and look.
So I actually looked at the dream scene in front of me and this feeling of awe and understanding slowly washed over me.
The flat box was not lying in space or in the ground; it was lying in a church aisle, up near the pulpit. To each side of it were the wooden pews and the inside of church walls with narrow, pointed windows.
The box was open and inside, I could see God and the man. God was holding the man in His arms. Behind them was the entire galaxy, resting right there in the middle of the white washed rows of wooden pews and plank wood walls.
This box was like a hot box- a flat, narrow box that slave holders and Japanese prison camp guards used to torture their slaves and prisoners by locking them in during the long hot days.
But the box was not confined, even so! It was filled with the boundlessness of space- with Life, because God was there. No one can put God in a box and make Him smaller; He carries everything that He is with Him.
Abusive religion masquerading as sacred and living tradition can try to lock a person away from God with rigid, legalistic boxes, but God stays with that person, holding them close in His arms, even in the hot box, and because God is there, all of Life is there.
They are held in Love, even when they don't know it or think it impossible for God to be with them in their hell. But He is. He always is. His love and life are there and sooner or later, those doors will come open.
*
I
always want everything-
to
be everything
to
do everything
in order to
please everyone
it’s
like a bottomless pit that appears
after
pulling the curtain back
and
you can’t take a step for the darkness
that
comes after the light
you-
you yourself- were held
right
where you were
and
even when you couldn’t
you
were held
and now to step out, you appear on the edge
of
the dark of
doing
everything perfectly
that
stretches down below you
into
everything you want to be and do
for
everyone else’s approval
endlessly.
In
that moment, wait.
wait
and let your eyes adjust after
the
light- the light of being loved
that
filled you right
where
you were,
in
the moment where you couldn’t
and
you will see it’s not a pit
it’s an avenue, open to
the
airy sky on one side
and
smaller rooms
to
the other
those
doors are choices
and
you are free to open them,
to
see what lies within.
in
one is treasured love
in
the other, intercessory prayer
in
either room, other people
are
quietly at work,
but
they don’t mind you
coming
in and looking-
they
know that you are searching
they
know who you’re with.
i
can’t ever be the voice that
says
it all perfectly.
i
can only be one part of a
larger
tapestry.
and
when i become present
even through the fear,
i
can walk right up the stair
into the edge of the timeless light,
and, even just as I am,
and, even just as I am,
be
held securely.
-May 1, 2013
