I have to
write down some of the things that happened since.
The next
night, I was there and it was so much, too much, even to be around Jesus.
Everything was really clear. I stood in front of Jesus and looked and looked
and His face was clear and I recognized Him. When I
recognized Jesus, I fell in a heap at His feet. This happened more than once.
He led me outside and He led me down past the orchard and there is a meadow
down there. We were
walking through the meadow and everything was drenched with light, brilliant
light and I could see Him so clearly, His profile- He has a dark, trimmed beard
and honey colored skin and eyes that are like amber and full of light and with
long eye lashes and largish nose with a long, arched bridge- I told Jesus that
He looked like a Byzantine painting- like those saints painted on stone with
the large, luminous almond shaped eyes. He has a tender mouth. He reminds me
very much of those paintings.
Every time
I saw Him and knew He was Jesus, I fell to His feet. It was overwhelming. I was
holding on to Him and remembering how I’d seen Him encased in that silken light
glowing and how He had been luminous as though made of light, hanging in the
light with wings of fire and how His light was life and how His life was my
life, so we were one life together.
Thinking
about this caused my knees to grow weak and my stomach to go up in fire and my
head to swim and the light was so bright in the meadow that I almost couldn’t
see anything and I heard a voice echo around me and in me and it said, this is My Son, in Whom I am well pleased and I fell to my feet and put my hands over
my face, because it was terrifying and I didn’t understand how or why anything like
that could be happening to me.
I kept
falling down and we hardly made any progress at all. We would end up
sitting in the long grass, laughing, because of this. Jesus was not in a hurry. He would sit down in the grass with me with perfect ease. Sometimes He would smile, His teeth white against His dark beard and honey skin, and the skin
at the corners of His eyes would crinkle up so delightfully; everything about Him is wonderfully attractive. Sometimes He looks as though He is deep in peaceful contemplation. That is His usual expression.
We reached
a slow moving stream through the meadow. The water was the warm brown of a peat stream in Scotland. Jesus stepped into the water. It shook me, to see
Him step into the water. It evoked so much about Jesus, somehow, with the heat
and the light and the water soaking into His robe- it reminded me of when He was baptized. His profile was quiet and full of peace. I hung back on the bank
of the stream just to watch Him and then He looked directly at me with His lucid and fearless gaze, smiling, and held out His hand. I went in with Him to the other side and there was a like a road or a
path there.
We went up
the path into the woods- it was a strip of woods that ran up the hill into
wooded hills and there was a house there, a mossy little house that was built over a spring. I fell asleep
there. (By this, I mean I physically fell asleep and saw no more.)
The next
night Jesus wanted me to go down into the meadow, so I followed Him there and
as we were going, I was practicing walking deliberately instead of passing effortlessly over distance. I wanted to walk normally- one step, the other step,
watching the ground move, feeling my weight. As I was doing this, Jesus did the same thing next to me, and
I looked up at Him swiftly, to see if He was making fun of me, but of course He
never, ever would, He was just being playful. So then we went in slow
deliberate steps together down across the lawn and sometimes, when I’m with
Him, the joy comes over me so deeply and so unexpectedly that I’m laughing and laughing and so is He and I don’t even know what is funny.
We went
through the strip of woods and beyond it was another meadow, only this was a
pasture running up into the hills and bordered by the woods and the cliff on
the lower side and at the farther side was another strip of woods and I looked
at Him, like, am I seeing this right?
Seeing a pasture beyond the meadow was like seeing a double image, and this threw me off for a moment or two, because I had expected to see something entirely different. But then I reminded myself not to be tripped up by my expectations, but to release them and be still and see it as it is. A stone wall was there, bordered
by pine woods, running down to the cliff and when we came out the other side of
this thin border, I could see the land all falling down and away to the distant
coast.
The land
was all like heather- bare, rolling hill sweeps. The coastline with the sea glittered and
moved below. There was an island. The coast line swept up
further and away to my right, beyond what I could see and to the right also the
land went up further into woods.
Jesus took
me to a lone pine tree, but I was not sure why or what was the purpose of being there or seeing it.
Later, I realized
that people might think I was lonely- my house was alone along in the woods, at
the edge of the cliff and I was the farthest thing from lonely.
We went
home, and there I had to think over and ponder everything, to adjust my
thoughts to the expansion of the landscape. We went swimming in the deep lake and came out at its source. This water falls into the lake over great, mossy slabs of rock set into a steep hillside. We followed it up the bank- there were stone steps set into the hillside, sometimes deep into
the hillside. The top of the mountain is a hollow cave, where
there the source of the stream forms a pool. There are stairs that go up to
the very top. At the top I could see the descending hillsides and the shore at the far edge of sight and woods in the other
direction and I fell asleep there.
I re-read
my little book by Amy Carmichael recently and she talks about this:
"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..."
-I Come
Quietly to Meet You, chapter 39
May 13,
2013 Journal
Jesus
pointed out that I’m really focused on seeing clearly lately and that is true
and He said that it’s work, my work. I’m not sure what He means by that, expect
that maybe it’s like a spiritual exercise and the thing that I’m supposed to be
doing, but from my perspective, it’s the thing I long to be doing.
Looking
back- as Jesus prompted me to do- I could see how, in the beginning, I did not
see Him clearly at all and I accepted that by faith and I did not feel texture sometimes at all
and I accepted that by faith and things were often messy and blurred and unfocused and I
accepted and moved through all that by faith, accepting simply that I was with Jesus regardless.
Which was
necessary. It was very necessary- I was learning to be trustfully present. Leaning to be trustfully quiet and still takes
time.
Now, I
want to be more clear. I want to be more fully present in each moment and I remembered Jesus saying to me, to clarify my request, He said, you want more presence.
And it seems that I’m able to receive more of that, visually and
texturally and audibly- with all my senses, in fact, I’m able to be more
present.
At first, Jesus
wore only a robe, but now sometimes I am aware that He has a kind of silken
sash that is wrapped around His ribs and an over robe that is embossed or
quilted- it has a soft, raised texture to it and it has no sleeves- but His
usual robe is underneath it.
I want to
spend more time with Him, and to see clearly and to be present, but I keep
falling asleep, which is frustrating. But I guess being with Him and being that
grounded and fully present is a deeply soothing thing!
Last night Jesus was serious and quiet, so I loved on Him a great deal. I was able to
touch His face and not have the seeing buckle. (I remember this moment. Until then, each time I had reached out to touch His face, I was suddenly unable to see anything at all clearly. I knew and can remember still that this was because I was unable to really accept that Jesus would let me. There was a great deal of love and awe in the moment when I was able to touch His cheekbone and see nothing but the expression on His face, which was one of unshakeable peace.)
May 14,
2013 Journal
What do I
want to remember?
I want to
remember being so miserably guilty about a burden I was carrying that I collapsed at His
feet and He said so tenderly, you feel
very strongly about this.
I said
yes and He said you are taking a great
deal on yourself.
I
leaned forward into Him and let the cares go into Him.
And how
easy it is to touch His face now and how the rabbit came out of the tall
grasses and its nose was cold and its fur soft and silky.
How Jesus
was resting in my arms, His head on my shoulder.
May 17, 2013 Journal
Last night, I wanted mostly just to be curled up close to Him. I kept nestling into His arms like a little bird and resting in His heartbeat, His breathing. This is a calming meditation.
However, I remembered the terrible scars. I know they don’t cause Jesus pain anymore and that they are glorified, but I wanted to do something for Him.
I thought about what I could offer Him, and I thought of something that seemed like a good idea mostly because by it, I could express some of the pity and gratitude that was overflowing in me, that was evoked by the scars. However, I also felt anxious that maybe what I was offering was too small a gift, or was of the wrong kind or was just silly. I was so afraid Jesus wouldn’t like the gesture of comfort as much as I hoped He might and I felt silly too, and almost ridiculous, so when I gave this to Him, I didn’t want to look at His face.
I moved through these emotions as I was with Him and then I looked at Him and was present and His face was so grave, which gave me pause. Then I saw that tears were streaming from His eyes.
Then I knew. I had not been expecting that, but I had moved Jesus to tears. I threw my arms around His neck and I said, “I love You, I love You, Jesus, You Beloved, You Only, You One.”
I kissed His cheek and burrowed in close and He held me tightly and I whispered, with loving delight, “You are the only Begotten Son of the Father." I felt Him smile and He whispered back to me, you are the only one, and I knew He meant, the only one of me, in particular.
So I said back to Him, You are the only One, feeling how that statement and the truth of it went through me in wonder and He said right back to me, you are the only one.
We said this back and forth, back and forth and saying it caused me to know it more and more and to be caught up in the wonder of belonging only to One, and that I belong wholly to Him.
Then I switched the statement and I dared to say, with joy, “You are mine.” I felt His answering delight and He replied, I am yours.
That made me laugh, and then I teasingly repeated it right back to Him, which reversed the meaning- “I am Yours,” I said.
You are Mine, He agreed.
We did this a long time as well, for the pleasure of it.
May 19, 2013 Journal
Last night I was burdened with so much agony, guilt over not being enough, loving enough, doing enough, and also, how I am always giving away too much of myself and of course, those two things cannot both be true, and yet I felt guilt over both.
I kept curling into Jesus and putting my head in His chest and holding onto His shoulders. I couldn’t bear to look at His face for a long time.
Jesus assured me that those things that I was meant to do, that the Father had planned for me to do, would be done through Him and also, that He loved me without reason, for no reason, for no doing of mine, except that He made me for Himself and so I need do nothing in order to have value to Him.
I told Jesus that I thought this was excessive grace and what about the rest of the world? What about their suffering? Why did God make me purely for Himself? How could being His help everyone else?
Jesus pointed out that, first of all, I was helping other people by being myself, most obviously, through my blog and my marriage and the adoption, so I was, in fact, having an impact on the world.
And furthermore, and deeper in, Jesus said that simply being His did also have an impact on the world in a spiritual way that I couldn’t grasp, but which was true and powerful in its own way.
I did not understand this, but I was willing to accept it. I let my angst go into Jesus and it was as though my hands were tingling because I had been holding on so tightly to my need to control, to define, to do. It was almost painful to let go.
Then I was able to relax into His presence and to look at Jesus. His face was tender and loving as usual, smiling a little- I touched the crinkles at the corners of His eyes. He gathered me up in His arms and carried me out to the grass and put me down there and it was healing, to lie on the grass, in the deep peace of that steady ground and the tender living green.
In the morning, I woke to Him. I seem to find myself already in His arms, most of the time, when I wake up. I was restful and at ease and I said to Jesus, tell me about before, by which I meant, tell me about my first conscious memory of You.
And I saw as though I came awake in His arms, in one gasp of air and how at first I knew nothing but Him, His face, His presence, His life and how it flooded through me and how the joy of this, the impact of this, would have been almost to the breaking point and how it would have taken me, it seems like, centuries just to feel all of it, just to let it pour through me, the gratitude and pleasure and wonder beyond words, beyond expression, just to know that one exists, exists for love, exists for Him, to know Him, to be held always in His heart.
I tried to absorb this memory or image as best I could and then I saw another room, a room of warm honey colored stone and I had the impression that the room was half sunk into the earth, so it would be cool but full of light and that it opened up to a courtyard but also a corridor further away and Jesus seemed to suggest that we could be in that room- that those were His rooms in another house- His house.
So we were in that room and it was as if we were from before- I was both in that room now, and feeling as though I were remembering it from some timeless memory, and I was also seeing the usual rooms, as though I were somehow either in all of them, or remembering all of them. This was dizzying if I focused on all of this at once, but mostly I was present with Jesus in the rooms of golden stone.
In that place, I was caught up in a richness of love, and the knowledge that I was made for Jesus was becoming much more real to me than before, that I exist just for His sake, I was His darling, something delicious and delightful to Him, and there was no other reason that I would ever want to exist. I wanted no other reason, no other purpose.
Into the elation of that knowledge came the jarring memory of what I would do in this life. I remembered that in this life, I would betray Jesus. I would fail Him, abandon Him and turn aside to other things, choosing deaf and dumb idols to be drawn toward, and to attempt to find beauty, meaning, purpose and satisfaction in things of the soul, instead of the One true and living God, who loved me and created me for Himself, and who was altogether lovely and altogether perfect.
The shame of this was too much to bear. I almost wanted to cease to exist so that I could escape the pain and the shame of my crushing betrayal of the One who loved me. I could not bear to be near Him, I turn away and curled up and I wished that I could curl up smaller and smaller and I did not know how I could go on living, knowing what I had done to Him and that it could not be undone.
The severity of my grief and shame had caused an immediate response in Jesus, which was one of overflowing mercy, compassion and concern. Even though I had turned my back to Him, Jesus pulled me close into His arms and He told me that He would not see those things again- would not remember those things. He had blotted them out, He had cast them away. He couldn’t remember them.
But I had been devastated by the knowledge of my betrayal of Him. In the light of His immediate presence, I couldn’t believe how I could have done it, and how could I bear that I had betrayed the One that I loved, the True One, the Living One, the most perfect Beloved? I could not look at Him, I did not know how I could ever look at Him.
But Jesus was continually, without words, pouring into me the knowledge that this kind of despairing anguish over my sin was actually hurtful to me and He did not require it and in fact, He urged me to turn toward Him and what He wanted was for me to accept His forgiveness and to believe Him and to find my comfort in it. And Jesus whispered to me that I would, in the end, be even more beautiful because of His redemptive work in my life- I would not be return to the prior way of being, but be transformed by Him to something better than I had been at first.
I understood this, and it did ease the pain, and I was beginning to grasp how much Jesus really did not want me to remain in anguish. It was hurting Him that I was remaining that way. So then I could turn to Jesus, and I clung to Him and I declared with such relief, “I am of Your own life, an off shoot of Your own life.” I knew that it was His life alone that could ever sustain mine, and that I was entirely defined by Him, and apart from Him I could not live.
But you are your own little self, your unique little irreplaceable self, Jesus reminded me. His voice was full of His joy and delight in this.
I understood how greatly this pleased Jesus, that I should be my own self, a little self that He created, but with my own perception and will and feelings and expression, but that my own self should not truly exist except in unity with Him. And I knew that this delight of Jesus was because my being my own little person was a small reflection of that perfect expression of personhood and unity that is expressed within the Trinity- that this is how He is within Himself- how He is One and yet also separate Persons having integrity of Their own selves, and yet finding Themselves in the Other, and being perfect in the fullness of Their joy, lacking nothing, altogether good and right and eternal.
