Friday, December 15, 2017

December 15th

The order of my blog posting will be changing after this. This is the last current journal entry that I'll be sharing every third week. I probably will share entries from my current journal in the future, but they may be quite short and at any point during the week or month. I will continue on sharing the back story each Friday until I have reached the end. I'm not sure where that is yet, but I'm sure I'll know when I get there.

In the meantime, I will be working on taking the words and ministry of Jesus in the Gospels and writing them out in novel form- that is, descriptively. I have been asking Jesus for a few years now to please let me write it, and the answer had been to wait. While I've waited, I've been reading the Gospels over and over again, partly because I hunger to see Him there, but also, to get the rhythm of His words and ministry worked into my understanding.  But now the answer is yes, so I have begun. I must steward my time very well. I might be sharing pieces from that work.

October 1, 2017

I’ve been seeing Jesus in Nazareth and Capernaum, and it’s something about the white stone dust smudged across the back of His thumb, the way the sunlight bakes the ground, the way the air is fresh and clear in the early morning and the chill of the water as it touches your face, and the way His smile creates dimples at the corners of His mouth, seen even under the beard. Or the heap of stiff and discarded sandals by the main door to the outside, and the feeling of putting them on again to go back outside and into the dirty street, and steaming cups of something hot to drink in the morning.

Standing, holding carefully the loose woven garment I had been hemming with a sliver of a bone needle, aware of how much work had gone into the getting of the wool from the raising of sheep, and the washing and carding and weaving of that wool, and aware of the care that had gone into the shaping and cutting of the garment, and therefore, hemming it carefully, with a needle that is bound to break sooner or later, but easing it through, because to make another or to get another was time taking work, as it all was. Holding all this in one hand, and holding the work roughed hand of Yeshua in the other, in the evening light, sounds echoing off the hills and rising from the narrow village streets with the high walls, neighbors on roofs nearby, the hills rosy, parts in shadow already.

All of these details and more, revealed in slow motion, under great light, in His presence- watching the way in which Yeshua moves- slowly and surely, with deliberate grace. He sits for long periods of time, listening and watching. The sound of His voice is marked, because only rarely does He speak. He is endowed with dignity and authority that is recognized by his family and community, but in an unspoken way. It's the way they watch Him and unconsciously defer to Him- before He had begun His ministry. 

October 2, 2017

But He Himself often withdrew into solitary (desert) places to pray,” I have been reading many times, as I pick up the Bible and begin again in the Gospels, in Luke.

But He Himself. That phrase is what captures me. “You. most Holy Lord,” I say to Jesus- the Lord Himself, visible, historical, tangible. That’s where He was, that’s what He was actually doing- in His historical life far from my reach. I cannot go back in time and search those hills and tracks and desert places to find Yeshua, the Prophet from Nazareth, the long awaited Messiah of God, in the places where He had gone to pray. Besides, He is holding such dignity and tangible holiness that, even if I had been born then, I wouldn’t dare try.

And then I remember that it is that same Jesus who makes His home in me. He is not far away. He is not unreachable. Then I turn to Him and I pour out worship and adoration and gratitude and Jesus says to me, you know Me and says all those sweet phrases that He always says.

Furthermore, I do see Jesus and not only that, but I may be enfolded into His presence in the same way in which a person is lowered down into water for baptism- that is, enveloped. He reminds me that He is the Good Shepherd who leads His own to the springs of the Living Waters, and He gives them to drink.

"I bind my wandering heart to Thee," I have said sometimes to Jesus lately, when my soul hungers and thirsts for something else, or is stirred up into a passion by some deeply moving, but essentially worldly image. Then I deliberately bring to mind Jesus. His ethnicity and His words are the two things that have the most immediate effect- that Jesus is Jewish by human birth through His mother Mary, and that He said, “Truly, truly I say to you, you seek Me not because you saw signs, but because you ate of the loaves and were filled. Do not work for the food which perishes, but for that food which endures to eternal life, which the Son of Man will give you. For God the Father has set His seal on Him.”

Then I see His clarion eyes as He looks up unexpectedly, the intelligence and determination in them striking, and His long, curling black lashes that partly shade them when He looks down, and His thick, strongly marked eyebrows, and I see the taut, sunburned skin of  His cheek bones and the curling texture of His thick beard, and I know that Jesus is a living person, a Hebrew, the son of David, and He lives now, and I know that He is the only One. I have only one longing, I have only one direction.

October 5, 2017

On Thursday, I pray with my aunt at nine o’clock in the morning, and so at twenty before nine, I began preparing for prayer. What I wanted to do was to pray over the house and to ask forgiveness and to be washed in the blood so that I could lift up others to Jesus and to do His work as He guides me in direction and words.

So I was praying in tongues heavily, and the fear of the Lord had come down over me. Jesus was making me entirely conscious of His reality, His glory and His authority. I was seeing in a spiritual way His throne, and I knew in a way that I can’t describe that He is God and God alone, that all power belongs to Him and that He is good in everything and righteous in all that He does.

This was taking away every scrap of pride, self-reliance and self-defense in me. What was left was only who the Lord made and then redeemed- a small but beloved, created self, entirely dependent upon God. I put my little self before the Lord Jesus in complete submission to Him, depending upon Him for His mercy, His goodness and His ability.

Jesus told me to put on the music that I usually listen to during my devotional time with Him. I swiftly obeyed Him in this request, as I had been doing in everything He had instructed. As soon as the melodious, well known sounds of that piece of music began playing, the atmosphere of tender, personal love infused effortlessly into the heavier atmosphere. It did not diffuse the fear of God, but it washed into and saturated it, so that both together were speaking in a harmony.

I knew immediately Jesus wanted this infusion of both together, and that is why He had told me to put that music on in that moment, because what it was doing was carrying away old thought structures in my mind, healing and renewing my mind.

I was in tears, physically on my face before Jesus, murmuring broken phrases in tongues, because even in that language, I could only begin to speak what I felt. I bowed myself down before Him and placed my cheek against His feet, which I could see in a spiritual way as though He were standing before me. An awareness of how close I am to Him and how much He had given Himself to me washed through my mind, carrying away doubt and shame and leaving in itself place nothing but worship in its most basic definition, which is to bow down, to prostrate oneself, and to give oneself as a sacrifice of obedience.

I could not understand why Jesus, the King of Heaven, holy and sovereign and perfect- the Son of the Living God, should give to me, a person of flesh and blood, imperfect, flawed, finite, such ineffable gifts of His presence, and pour into me so much of His intensely personal love.

This lasted for some time, until the music ended by my receiving the call from my aunt. The Holy Spirit had not given her anything to pray for, so after placing myself fin the hands of the Holy Spirit, I took the papers and read the prayer from them. In it, I had included Jesus' prayer of forgiveness from the cross. When I reached this point, Jesus opened His heart to me. It was not a seeing; it was a knowing. I was sobbing and it was a while before I could take up the prayer and continue with it.

October 10, 2017

Jesus just gave me a little glimpse of the beauty of the story that He has written in my life. He usually keeps the blinders on me like those that working horses use so they can only see straight ahead and not get distracted by what is going on around them. This a gift from Him, as there is usually a lot going on, and yet steady obedience is still required.

I saw how Jesus has been with me since the very beginning, and His delight in me, and how He has delighted to grow me up and to be with me, seeing the end from the beginning, and just liking me. I am full of flaws and I find myself very annoying, but Jesus likes me. He created me, so He must have created me to be attractive and enjoyable to Himself. If I think about it that way, I can believe it.

When I saw His enjoyment of walking me through this journey of learning to see Him and to love Him and to trust Him, my eyes opened wide, and Jesus burst into laughter. It's like sunlight breaking out from a cloud- light hearted and pure joy and all good.

In heaven, there is nothing but what is holy and uncorrupted.The original intent, the original goodness at the beginning with God, is kept there, and the glorious goodness of the end in God is there, and in between in heaven, nothing but God, and to God, all things given in the gratitude of faith. In heaven, it is safe to be seen for what one really is, because God has ordained that in the first place.

October 19, 2017

Sat down, immediately lost in meditation on how Jesus is close to me, right within spiritual reach. I can reach Him and be with Him. Saw a swift glimpse of His face, saw the golden nest, saw a large green leaf held over my head- big as an umbrella. I thought about how I used to have the stone house and now there is the golden nest. Saw the view of the mountainsides far below me as I wafted on air currents lifting up, gliding upward and across, seeing with detail the landscape below. But I withdrew from that seeing, because along with the joy was something like pride. So I pushed it away.

“With the seeing, I want to stay in the straight and narrow,” I said to Jesus, meaning, there might not be any harm in seeing that and it may well be spiritually true in some sense, but it doesn’t do any good to see it either, and it’s not necessary to know or to see oneself like that. All that is necessary is to see the Lord Jesus and never look away from Him.

It’s similar to knowing that one must have spiritual beauty because the Lord Jesus has said that one is very beautiful, but never does one ever want to look in the mirror to see this- His face must be the only mirror. Anotherward, take heed if you think you stand, lest you fall, and the best way to take heed is to look at Jesus all the time and never at oneself.

It is extremely important not to care about one’s own potential or actual beauty. There are severe and sobering passages of Scripture that make clear that Israel’s downfall was partly the fact that their beauty, given to them by Yahweh, their Husband by covenant- that beauty which was a gift, caused them to turn vain and turn to others, which is a desecration and a horrible thing.

Besides which, Jesus, Who was and is the most beautiful of all, the Glory of God and flawless in loveliness, left all His glory behind and humbled Himself to become like humankind, and came down even farther to serve and not to be served, was a Man of sorrows and afflicted and not esteemed and had no beauty and was counted a sinner and made sin that we might be the righteousness of God, so that He might present us to Abba as sons and daughters of the Living God. That is devotion, that is holiness- to be so open handed with one's own beauty that you are willing to lose it all to lift others up. That is the perfect beauty, that is the glory of the Lamb of God, who has no equal and is given all dominion and authority and power and glory, and is the glorious Head of His church.

So I returned to Jesus and settled in. Saw His hand, work roughened, saw the rough stones of Galilea. Took His heavy hand in both of mine. Thought about the demanding life He had to lead in the time of history that He lived. Thought with joy of how, when I die, I will know Him. Jesus will not a stranger- I will already have a long, long history of loving and obeying and trusting Him. I will finally see fully the One I love and know now. Thinking on that always makes my love for Him spring up like a fountain.

“Lord Jesus, I give You the glory, I give You the praise,” I was saying almost sleepily, as He was drawing me into the heart of His presence, every anxiety and hindrance ebbing away in His peace. “Any wisdom that I might have is really Yours and came from You. Apart from You, I know nothing good and have nothing good.”

“I will make my boast only in the Lord, I will boast in the Lord,” is the phrase that often I have been using lately, because I never want to be arrogant in my fearlessness. Apart from the Lord, I am a sitting duck. But I am never apart from Him, and within Jesus, I am sheltered and provided for and guided and I must have no fear.

That’s what I say often when I think back to some of my prayers and am tempted to think well of myself because of my fearless stance in some of those situations, which I have not written down, for various good reasons, but when I start to think about them, almost immediately, my thoughts begin to veer off in an unbalanced manner toward pride, and Jesus caused me to see something that humbled me immediately and gave me a more sober point of view.

One can never, ever be arrogant in spiritual warfare. On the other hand, one cannot be timid or fearful either. So the best way forward is to say always, “I will make my boast in the Lord,” and be fearless for His sake and be fierce hearted and unrelenting because of His name and the truth and power of His word.

November 9, 2017

Again, or as usual, struggling with doubt. There are two ways I can go with this now, after all this time, after all the confirmations and countless comforting statements that Jesus has made to me and given me. The first and most obvious is to condemn myself as hopeless, never to overcome this struggle. I am tempted sometimes to go this way, and even begin heading down this road, but the kindness of Jesus stops me.

The other way that is beginning to take shape, is to realize that Jesus is using this particular weakness to His glory, and through the weakness, He is making perfect His strength, and that His grace is sufficient for me with this, to carry me through time and time again. This requires a great deal of trust, but it also makes possible a great deal of triumphant thanksgiving.

The important thing to remember about that passage in II Corinthians, was that Paul was given a thorn in his side to keep him from excessive pride. So whatever was constantly bothering him, humility was the outcome. And that is the outcome also here. I cannot become carelessly overconfident, or take what I've been given for granted, or use it for myself, because the doubt forces me look intently and expectantly and urgently to the Lord and His word to overcome it. The end result is that I am constantly depending on the faithfulness of the Lord and His word, and not myself.

Even so, I must still consciously choose belief over doubt. I cannot reach the presence of Jesus with doubt. Trying to do that would be like getting into the car, turning on the ignition, getting my directions, and then pressing down on the brake. The car will not leave the driveway. I might have a full tank of gas, I might know exactly where I’m trying to go, I might have driven there a hundred times. But if I don’t take my foot of the brake, I’m not going anywhere.

And Jesus is meltingly merciful with me, merciful because He sees all the way down through the layers of my heart and soul, the way in which my understanding has been built up, because He created me and built that up in me. Jesus knows a lot of my doubt comes from a high estimation of Him and a low estimation of me.

Jesus made it very clear that I must think of Him, and relate to Him, as a husband, in a spiritual way symbolic of His love and commitment for His Church, in order that others might be drawn to Him, to come to Him at a similar depth of commitment and surrender. This is not an easy or light understanding to receive. Jesus told me that He would not have given it to someone who would not tremble in the light of it.

It's often difficult for me to see how someone as holy and real as the Lord Jesus could possibly want to be that closely associated with someone like myself, who is also real, but embarrassingly real, and not even close to being holy, as each day, I fail to love Him with all of my strength, all of my breath, all of my heart and I fail each day to love my neighbor as myself, and often before entering His presence, I must confess a whole welter of embarrassing sins, like selfish thoughts, motives and even actions.

This would be crushingly discouraging, except that I have read that the closer one gets to the Lord in communion, even small sins and imperfections become awful to one's perception. This is not at all because Jesus is exacting or unmerciful, He is not- Jesus is altogether lovely, He is brimming over with tender hearted mercy and loving kindness.

But Jesus is perfect in holiness, in love, and in obedience, and in His light, even small imperfections are revealed- and of course, forgiven, and hurts are revealed, and healed, and wrong burdens are revealed, and removed.

In any case, I am a real person, with flaws and faults and not close to the beautiful perfection of the Lord Jesus Christ, and yet I am made His garden, where He lives and where a harvest is always being tended. Week after week, He tends this garden growing in my heart, day after day I am invited and drawn up past my doubts to where the Lord waits for me to abandon all that hinders and to curl up close to His heart, and to trust in His mercy and to trust in His goodness and to trust in His faithfulness.

I lay my head down on the desk to go to Jesus, the way immediately opened, and I was surrounded by His love like falling into water and having the water close gently over your head and now one is submerged in living water and there I remembered Jacob and his limp. It’s easy to think about that only as a metaphor, but in reality, he limped.

A limp is not a graceful thing, and it does in fact slow a person down considerably. Each day, Israel had to take a step, pause, step, step, pause, step, as he went about his daily work. The Lord declared he had wrestled with God and man and had won, and given him a new name, but he went limping.

And there is that verse, "Who is this, coming up from the wilderness, leaning on her beloved?" (Songs 8:5) It’s romantic, but she also was limping. In the wilderness, she wrestled with the Beloved and she wanted nothing but to be as close to Him as possible always, and He granted it. But now she cannot walk without leaning on Him. It is lovely and full of romance, but it’s real- it means that she is reaching for Him at every moment- please help me out of this chair, help me across the room, help me to this person’s house. Her eyes are full of apology, and she is often tired, but she cannot live without Him and she certainly cannot walk without Him. She hardly takes a breath of air that is not scented with His robes; her head is always against His shoulder as He carries her weight.

November 21, 2017

“Here is Your servant,” I say, setting the coffee down and making myself quiet, and for a moment, I wonder who I am talking to.

Then I remember- I am talking to the One who received the following crowds with compassion even though He and His disciples were exhausted with grief and had just sailed across the lake to get some quiet.

I need only think of Jesus in the Gospels, at any point in the Gospels, and love for me wells up afresh for Him. As soon as I feel this, I thank Him. I know I cannot take credit for this, Jesus built it into me.

If Jesus were on the earth today, I would be saving up all my money to fly to where He was and then I would do nothing but be as close and as helpful as possible and hope that each day I might see a glimpse of Him and I would cherish that glimpse all day and night and record it shamelessly in my diary so that I would never forget- “Today, in the morning, Jesus smiled at me! I think He knows who I am!”

Of course, that’s a silly example, but it conveys the feeling that I have for Him. That’s why, when I can come close to Him, I am sometimes transported to heights of ecstatic joy.

It's the kind of love that contains longing, acclamation, and adoration. People direct this kind of longing, desperately and sadly, onto singers and actors and made up characters and then they spend all their spare time thinking about them or saving up for tickets or reading stuff on line about them, or collecting things.

I put my head down to rest in Jesus, “I just come to You,” I said, “I’ve been writing so much, I’m just coming to You,” and I nestled in and threw my arm around Him. Jesus welcomed me into His presence with ease and comfort, and then my thoughts drifted again to those people who turn to other things to long for and aspire to, and how it is even called, “idol worship,” and how it is truly that and how awful it was. Mostly because it’s tawdry and empty; it’s pouring out all your treasure and receiving an empty plastic cup in return.

Especially when you compare this to true worship of the living God. Why worship empty vanity, when you can worship the very Son of God? Here is a Person who is breathing and real and flesh and blood and made of living light, who is living glory, who is flawless beauty and yet scarred and with muscles and callouses from heavy labor. Here is One who is brilliant and has all authority and is the source of all creative expression, a perfect living poem, song personified, worshiped endlessly by countless singing angels, songs that would shake the foundation of the earth if we could hear them, who is enthroned on praise and rides the clouds and He is as tender as a Lamb, and has eyes of fire, and spoke Aramaic and Hebrew and grew up on this earth in northern Israel in the first century, and tasted the water of wells, and the wine of pressed grapes, ate broken bread. Here is the Captain of the countless hosts of Heaven, the Dread Champion of heaven, who trampled down death by death and raided hell and took the keys and holds them forever in His hand, who sits on His throne with perfect ease, without one shade of doubt or arrogance or anxiety, who is as settled and calm as the morning sky.

What if you could know Him! What if you were a close friend of His! What if you knew where He lived and could enter His house, could walk right into a room where this glorious, living Person is, and He turns to see you and His eyes light up and He holds out His hand.

This is actually possible. As this is possible, as it is possible to come close to the only begotten Son of God, to come into His presence with joy, to be welcomed even into His arms, why ever go anywhere else or look anywhere else? What else is there?

Everything else reflects Him, anything good is a reflection of Him. The Lord is the Reality at the very center, the perfect image of God, the source of all Life. You don’t want to worship the reflection, you want to worship Jesus Himself.

December 4, 2017

Soon it will be time to wrap up this year’s journal and begin a new one. These last few days I have been quite drunk on love. I had been, as usual, begging the Lord to let me see Him more clearly and to understand Him better, and He has been answering that through the Passion translation. This is not the first time He has answered that request with a version of the Bible- the last time, it was the Voice translation, which taught me so much that I wanted to know.

I sometimes expect Jesus to dramatically peel back the heavens or to show me some glorious vision in order to teach me about Him, but I am used to this way He answers- through the Scriptures and because of my brothers and sisters in Christ who know more about Him than I do. I am learning wonderful things about Jesus in the footnotes. Just one phrase- "if one brings a hearing ear for himself, he will hear," filled me with wonder and love. Because that is how Jesus spoke that phrase, the order of the words. Sometimes there are the actual Aramaic words, and I do not know what I love more- the literal translation, or the words of the language itself. To know that those were the actual syllables He spoke, and that is the way the words were arranged, this shines so much light onto Jesus, and I have seen glimpses of Him that almost gave me chills, they were that powerful and clear.

"You know," I said, melting into His arms with laughter.

They’re your treasures, He said, smiling.

I have heaps of treasure that are beyond price. My treasures to Him are how I love and serve others here, giving away my time and talents and words, but His treasures to me are abounding and always kept with Him.

If you were asked, Would you like to love on the Lord Jesus and delight Him and fill His heart with joy unspeakable?, how could you say anything but yes and how is it possible?

And if they said, No but this is the Lord Jesus Christ, the Son of Man, who was crucified and who rose again, and you may love Him and delight Him and please Him and give back to Him comfort and joy for all He suffered, what could a person say in response, but I am not worthy even to be His servant taking care of His shoes?

And that would be true, speaking for myself, but what if that was no objection, no obstacle? Then you would surely give your life to doing that, only you would find that your strength is miserably small and you fail Him in so many ways, and yet you find that His grace is never ending, and carries you along, and His faithfulness is like a rock, and establishes you on His goodness, and He keeps on working patiently in you to bring you to maturity. But there is never a moment where you are not carried  by grace like a cloud, or settled on the rock of His ability and faithfulness. You are as frail as a paper lantern, but lit inside with the fire of God.

*

Post Script:

December 13, 2017

“This blog post is repetitious. Maybe I should cut out a lot...”

No, keep it all.

"Thank You for dinner," I said humbly, which was off topic, but I had to thank Jesus for His care, being, in His presence, reminded of His goodness.

I look forward to this new adventure with you, Jesus replied. Now you should record this.


















Friday, December 8, 2017

When I Saw You

May 24, 2013 Journal

Last night, when I was with Jesus, my spirit was still warm from the time before, like coals that are alive and glowing after a bonfire, resonating with His presence like the bow strings of an instrument just after it has played a concerto with great energy and then been swiftly lifted. I was clinging close to Him, the One who is the source of the music, the One who is the Light that sets to fire. But all was at rest, because the music He was playing was like something that is hummed quietly before sleep. I was close enough to hear this sound. I touched His closed eyes, feeling how tender the skin was, how soft. I closed my eyes, and I could feel fingertips of God touch my face, the One who knit me together in my mother’s womb, the One who holds all power and authority, Whose hands can trace out constellations and call down mountains. He could breathe on me too strongly and I would wither, but the touch of His fingers on my face was as soft as snowfall, as careful as a fine calligraphy brush. It was the first time I’d ever been able to be that perceptive, that trusting.

May 25, 2013 Journal

You are the one that sees Me, Jesus said to me today, as though naming me.

And I remembered how He had said once that seeing clearly in that place was almost like my work- the thing that I practice or invest myself in.

I stifled the first impulse to deny this and instead considered it. I thought about how many times I had begged Jesus to let me see Him- how He had summed it up for me, you want to see Me, He had said, so quietly.

I considered how I was seeing Him much more clearly. In fact, today I saw His hand almost with so much texture- and I realized again that Jesus is as much human as He is divine- His hands and face show some signs of wear and tear- weather beaten, Jesus said to me once, recently, with amiable humor- and I remembered that He must have spent nights outside and His days outside as well.

May 27, 2013 Journal

“But I make account of none of these, neither do I count my life precious to myself, so that I finish my course with joy, and the ministration that I received from the Lord Jesus, to testify fully the good news of the grace of God.” Acts 20:24 YLT

I had a dream. Well, not a dream. I was with Jesus and we went up into the sky and there were storm clouds there and we passed up through and into them, and I kept thinking or hearing those Scriptures that say He makes the storm His messenger, He rides the clouds, the clouds go before Him, and so I said, "Okay, okay, I understand it."

The wind was whipping our hair around our faces and the lightening was striking within the cloud, with all the superheated energy, but I wasn’t afraid because I was in His arms. Then we began to sink down and down and I saw below me the roofs of our new housing development. (Keith and I had recently contracted to build a new house instead of signing up for another year with in the rental house.)

That confused me; I’ve never been with Jesus and seen a physical place that I could recognize from my present life, so I held back out of fear and then I accepted and we went down and down until we stood on the sidewalk across from our building lot.

And again I was afraid and again I submitted to being there and I saw our house completed but rising up behind it was this massive wooden structure.

I realized it was the prow of a boat- it was an ark, so massive it seemed almost to block out the sky and it seemed to be made of cedar wood burnished or varnished a deep red color and again I was afraid and again I made myself present.

And the ark crushed the new house to bits and pieces, filling the sky as it did so. I mean, it was massive and we rose up into the sky and I saw our tiny figures against the massive prow of this ark as we rose up, and then we were on the deck, but the deck was full of holes so that I could see down in, or else the deck itself was dissolving before my eyes, I couldn’t tell which.

The interior of the ark was sloshing with water- it was full to the brim with water, a great depth and a great weight of water, and again, fear gripped me. I felt a lot of fear, looking down into that water and I remembered a nightmare I had had as a child, that the floor of the gym was opening up beneath my feet and people were falling into the chasm that was revealed.

But I moved through and past this fear and as I did, the entire ark burst and the water burst out and flooded the entire housing development, sweeping all the houses away, leaving pools of water and water soaked ground behind, a deep brown, rich color, glistening in the sun.

Then it was over, and I asked Jesus, "What does it mean?"

And He said that the new house symbolized this life, security in this life and that my nightmare was about the fear of death, and I had associated the dream with the seeing holes in the deck and the water below, but that such an association was not the meaning.

So then I thought about it from many angles. I know the ark is Christ, who is the source of the living water, the living water that overwhelms the present life, the small present life.

It was strange that the ark held the flood, whereas before, the ark rode on the flood. What does this reversal mean?

Does this mean like a flood of pure life, as opposed to a flood of death? If the ark is Christ, then He is come bringing pure life. It’s a reversal of life over death. The fear of death is absorbed into Him, broken open, His life sweeps away the smallness of our present preoccupation.

*

Last night I was hurting so deeply from the anxiety of posting my last blog; I was regretting it so much and feeling as though I had failed Jesus terribly and that I must be the most blasphemous, ridiculous joke of a person and He leaned over me and pulled me in and said, Jenny.

He said it with tender, quiet authority. Immediately I stopped everything I was doing and looked at Him, like oh my goodness, Jesus just said my name. Then I had to withdraw from the experience to consider it from all angles (because I could either spend my whole attention receiving the spiritual experience, or my whole attention pondering what I had seen. Both are necessary, but I could not do both very well at the same time) and then I returned to being with Jesus and focused on His face and I said tentatively, "What?  What did You want to say to me?"

And He said, gently, just stop. By which Jesus meant, stop hurting yourself. Stop doing this to yourself. Just stop.

And I tried.

This morning, Jesus patient coaxed me to Him, first taking the time to reassure me, again, that He told me to write that blog, that He gave me His words, those were His words, that He was using them and I was meant to speak them, to write them. You’re a messenger, He said. I whispered, “Yes. I know. You have told me. It must be true. It is true.”

I took His hand and was leading Jesus through the house and then I realized who I was leading. I turned and looked at Jesus and delight washed over me and left me shy and in awe. I paused and leaned against the door frame, and then ran to Him and got caught up in His arms.

And I realized that Jesus had longed for me and so He had coaxed me, reassured me, set me at ease, and brought me to where He was. Jesus had done this because He wanted me with Him.

We were walking back to the house after swimming in the lake and we paused in the bushes with the dark green foliage, like rhododendrons that grow so thickly between the lake and the koi pond. I hung back as we were passing though there to the house. There are times when I suddenly remember Who I am with, and the only response possible is to stop everything in wonder and look at Him. When I stopped, Jesus paused.

When we walk through there, often He bends down to lift a branch out of the way, but He was at that time standing straight amid the profusion of leafy branches, still wet with water from the lake. There is a lucidity about Jesus that is both tranquil and beautiful. Jesus looks as calm and immoveable as an oak tree, and He is as serene and full of light as the cloudless sky. He doesn’t have to try and do to anything to be this way, He just is this way. I was looking at Jesus with the natural deference and stillness that seeing Him evokes, and He smiled, the expression on His face and in His eyes showing a warm affection and happiness that is very human. I remembered how He is the second Adam and we are His Eve, His gift.

I stepped close to Him. “I want to be wholly with You,” I whispered, longingly. “I want to be with You and see You.” By which I meant, I wanted the wholeness of heaven, how He is there, as He lives there now, and no longer with this incomplete spiritual sight with its coming and going- no more veil at all, completely to be in His presence, as completely as I am in my physical room when I wake in the morning, and there it all is, right there, going nowhere and in all directions fixed and yet fluid in all the motions of life.

What do you want Me to do? Jesus seemed to ask, with His compassionate regard- this feeling of tenderness that takes into loving consideration all that I am, and places a value on what I say that I can't understand. I can’t explain how Jesus put it; it was as if He was coaxing me to say something out loud and I was shy to say it, because I didn’t know everything that it meant, or what it would require, but it was the thing I was longing for, and the thing Jesus was wanting me to say, so I said it. I stepped close to Jesus and I whispered.

“Come,” I whispered, urgently. “Come quickly.” I meant, here, to this time and place- to return, to come back and take His place and to rule and reign here on earth and to make everything right.

I hung on His neck and longed for this, longed for Jesus to bring things to a conclusion, so there would be no more suffering, so I and all in Him and this world would be completely with Him. I knew Jesus heard and received my words. When Jesus hears something, it is not in a passing way. He keeps the words with Him.

May 28, 2013 Journal

From a blog I didn’t post:

I understood something differently recently, but it's difficult to explain. Jesus often called the religious leaders hypocrites or actors.

I'm beginning to think that this is because they had a false sense of self and ignoring it is like having a beam in their eye. So they dressed up their outer behavior, their outer appearance- like a white washed tomb- and went about pretending- living a lie. This lie imprisons them. They are a slave to this lie.

I can't help but think that this false self is like an idol- an idol of self. They must polish this idol and appease this idol and tend this idol of their outer self, ignoring the inward man.

Because they are judging themselves, they are constantly judging others. They are guarding their idol- their image, their status, their poofed up dignity- and looking down at or adoring and giving praise to others that live the same way, but with an even more polished appearance- they are extending praise amid themselves, coming in their own name, praising each other, a little circle of outer persons, apparently godly idol worshipers who are slaves to their sin.

They create and sustain systems of power and they will commit murder to protect their power, their place. They will throw others who are weaker away to protect their idol of outer self. Nothing can touch or tarnish their idol- they are polishing the outside of those cups all the time.

Recently, I connected this understanding to the image of God shattering something with a rod of iron- smashing something brittle- like pottery- something like an idol.

The real person inside is not smashed- the outer, false self, the brittle lie- the idol- that is smashed.

Or, to use another metaphor, it's like a house built on the sands of religious performance. When the torrent of water comes, the house is ruined and the destruction of the house is great- the man himself is not lost.

Why? Because he's loved, that why. Because he's us- we have all been through or are going through or will go through this process. When two blind people, certain they can see clearly, fall into a ditch, that ditch is the mercy of God. By it, they realize that there is something wrong with their sight. Jesus does not want them to remain in the ditch, in a watery mess of all they had wrongly built; He wants them to come to themselves, repent and run to Him for mercy, healing, and balm for sight.

I know, because I had an idol of outer, religious performance. I tended this idol every day, very carefully. It was very brittle. I was a slave to this idol. I judged others on how well they tended their appearance. I prided myself on the religious leader that I was following. (This was the person who had begun the church in which I grew up. He had passed away before I was born, but in that church, we attempted to follow closely his teachings and felt that we were elevated from all other churches because of it.)

One day- I have no idea why- I became aware of this. It was as if I felt myself to be caged in a rusted suit of painful armor- armor that wouldn't move right, that blinded me, imprisoned me, stuffed with religious pride like rotten fruit cake. I must have been sixteen or seventeen years old.

I was so horrified- horror suffused my entire being. I cried out to God, in that moment, to smash that pride apart- to break it apart. He did, but it took years. It's on-going.

Recently, I was with Jesus and I was thinking about something that truly is horrible, and it was making me angry that was happening, and I found myself wanting Him to do something about it- to bring that situation to an end.

Then I was horrified! I was horrified that I wanted my anger to move God. Without words, I poured this entire thought process to Jesus, as though revealing my heart- here is what I thought, here is what I feel; I don’t know how to sort through all this, please help me.

Jesus took my hand and pressed it against His chest and I could see and feel that there was something like a furnace inside Him- a consuming fire.

And I thought, in awe, that's wrath- only the wrath was not anger, like when a person loses their temper. It was love. But not like any love I had ever known before. It was a consuming zealous fire of holy, unstoppable love, capable of cleansing everything in His flames. It was a burning desire to smash the prison, to set the prisoner's free, to heal the broken hearted, to give sight to the blind.

This love will not stop or go out until it has accomplished His purpose- until everything is set right by love. It’s a fiery, righteous zeal, which means that He knows what is life and what is death, and He wants life for us and restoration for His creation.

When I understood this, I was freed from my anxiety. I threw my arms around Him- I threw my own love and longing into His greater, consuming love, and I cried out to Jesus with fierce longing, "Break it! Break it open! Break open that prison- let the real persons within, weak and blinking their eyes from living inside the idol of their outward appearance, come out into the light of day. Let the victims come free of their oppression. Break open that circle of self-praise, smash it open and let the prisoners go free."

(This is a strong message, and I want to make clear that there is an honor that is godly that we give to those who labor on our behalf, and that there is godly joy in meeting together to encourage one another in God, to share His word and to grow in the Lord.)

May 28, 2013 Journal

Last night, I was with Jesus and His sorrow was so great that He was the one that ended up on the floor. He fell to His knees in pain.

I didn't know what to do; I was overwhelmed. I threw my arms around His shoulders and held Him close.

"This is cruel," I whispered. "This is so cruel. This is so wrong. How can this be? Haven't You suffered enough? How can it be that You should continue to suffer? Someone should put a stop to this immediately! Why is this allowed to continue? After all, You are in Heaven! How can the Father allow this, even now? Where are the angels to minister to You? Why are You alone?”

Over and over again, a deeper meaning, a new emotional understanding of what it means to endure all things, hope all things, believe all things, was being carved into me by this grief and pain.

To feel all the horrific acts that are committed, the travesties, the loss, and yet!

To never give up hope- to feel the worst and yet to believe the best and to love completely, absolutely, to be given over in love- how could a heart other than God suffering this rending?

In fact, the experience was so overwhelming that I wanted to stop experiencing it. I wanted to escape the emotional knowledge. I thought it was unbelievable. I wanted to refuse to believe it, and I almost left, but I couldn't leave Him.

Then I remembered, with incredible relief, the last line, and I whispered it to Him, over and over again:

"Love never fails," I whispered. "Love never fails. All will be made new and You shall do this. You have done it. It is done."

The truth of this comforted us both. It's not that Jesus ever forgets this, it's that He feels everything! It's so terrible.

Later, I came back to Him. I was there; I knew I could be there with Jesus in any place. So I said, "How would You like me to come?"

And I remembered that Jesus is the air that I breathe and the flesh and blood that I wear and the place that I rest and I was in the room, breathing in and breathing out and I put my face to His robe and I breathed in and breathed out through the soft fabric and I pulled away from Jesus and saw Him.

He whispered you’re Mine, a cherished, a treasured gift. And I assented, because to assent and to accept gives Him pleasure.

He whispered, you’re My own, My bride, and I assented and thought about how I was created by Him for Him, just to be that way and how I woke to Jesus. I turned my face to see Jesus; I looked at His face, with His eyes, weather beaten at the corners and the scars across His forehead from the crown of thorns, and as I looked, they seemed to open, and I said, no, no don’t open, don’t, and kissed them- I kissed all across His forehead and they did not.

I saw again His face, the roughness of His beard and His arched nose and dark eye lashes and luminous eyes, and I said His name, again and again, “Jesus,” I whispered. “Jesus, I love You. I love You, You Son of God.”

I was so deep into trust that that I was drowning in love. I was crying, at one point I wiped tears from my eyes and He was crying, I saw the tears running down His face.

I whispered, “Rest. Rest here. I love You. I love You so much.”

I said, "I love all that You are," and it was as if Jesus began to lay out all His most vulnerable aspects, as if He were laying His heart wide open for me and He said, even this? And He meant His vulnerability and I said, "Yes, yes, I love You for that; I love You with that." I said, "I love Your vulnerability, Your meekness." He said, do you love My childlike trust, faith and obedience? And I said, “Yes, yes, I love that about You, I love Your childlikeness. I love all that You are, every scar, every mark, Your heart and every part of Your heart and every aspect of Who You are and I want to welcome You and recognize You and see You more clearly.”

And we were whispering together. I called Him by name. Each time I did, my love and joy in Jesus increased, because of knowing I was with Him, and how wonderful He is and how beautiful, with His pure heart and humility and long suffering love and obedience. My love for Jesus was pouring out of me as though I were radiating it in all directions, I was drenched in love.

Speak, you words, speak! Be spoken!
Come out. I will draw you up from the depths that hide you-

I went to the well

I was sitting by my window at night

I opened my window

I opened the glass

I swung the glass open

I stood on the threshold.

Some lit cotton gauze moving

I waited on the windowsill.

Lost, my breath goes through
First and following after my
Fingertips resting, breathing
Lighter than air falling warm
Though the fabric. Life knit
Into life, stitched by breath,
Each layer air, flesh and blood and
Soil- this life shot through
With roots and tendrils curling,
And You.

So genuine you’re weather beaten
by dusty wind and sea salt-
finished by that suffering,
by which I know You.

In this present life I grew to sleep and
everything most real became wrapped up
in something too much for dreams.

Those dreams, slipping into my days
Were stolen away. One by one
I watched them shiver, shower
Into glittering air and lose the light
That lit them from below, too
Temporary to bear the weight
Of Your step
Which I could feel trembling
All through me.

My hopes, too small to contain
You, were turned inside out

When I saw You, I remembered.