Category Archives: Vision

A Recaptured Vision

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Two opposing viewpoints are helpful, like two legs supporting a torso. It’s not always about balance. Sometimes it’s about shifting your weight between the two viewpoints in order to make progress in a particular direction. But there still must be a united vision of one who can see above, between, and in sympathy with the two views the direction in which this whole group of members called a body must move.

I see an altar for sacrifice. The Lamb was slain upon it, and by his being slain willingly in submission to his master was enthroned as King of not just the spiritual realm, but also the earthly realm coming back to life spiritually and physically. The Lamb does not see corruption.I look and behold a group of spectators whose eyes once hardened in vehemence now moisten and soften with tears, as that which is in them, that compassion at the center of the LORD Himself melts their proud hearts. The more they stare, the more they shed their weapons and shrink down to become more and more a lamb themselves, made innocent by forgiveness. They bleat the simple cry “I will give my life for my enemies, for thus my Savior did for me.” Their persecutors, like blind puppets with the shape-shifting serpent venemous and hateful animating behind them, draw back their sword to strike. The Lamb does not move, but the bleating song of this lamb is sung as an echo of the Lamb enthroned. Struck deep in the throat, the lamb bows its head, blood staining the white wool of spotlessness. Such obedience is the sacrifice pleasing in God’s sight. The fragrant aroma of the smoke of the altar changes to an animal roasting. The lamb does not see corruption. Though his body decomposes there on the flame, his spirit goes to be with the Lamb, awaiting the day when his body will be reanimated and the blood-stained wool will be washed whiter than ever before. Thus the lamb shared the altar-throne, and thus the lamb will share with the exalted throne.

More and more the lambs following the Lamb are drawn to walk this simple path, and more and more the blind puppets are more clearly animated to look like their master. Until the day when all is revealed, and that which is true, right, and good, and full of life shall remain forever, and all that is false, wrong, evil, and full of death shall be judged forever with damnation. And all peoples, tribes, and nations will sing, “Salvation belong to our God who is seated on the throne and to the Lamb.”

Where Doom and Hope Cross–A Message for the Church in America

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Christian Church in U.S.A. is not thriving. It’s dying, and for many churches the life they continue to live is not worth living. If a group of people who are called to carry a cross for the salvation of their communities like Jesus did have settled for inactivity and living for this age not the age to come, they are wasting their time and the grace given them.

Let me explain: Christianity’s root system of the biblical story leading to Christ crucified is still in tact, but the current modern manifestations of what the branches look like above does not parallel the root system below the way a tree should. One does not need to look far to find Churches bearing the name, and claiming the aim of Christ who capitulate and compromise, or who build buildings to make their own names great, who try to maintain relevance, while many leave the shallow faith of their childhood, and the older grow proud and belligerent or indolent and fruitless. In order for the Church in the U.S.A. to thrive again it must go through the same gate through which Jesus passed: the Cross. Christianity without the cross isn’t Christianity at all, and the Cross applied to every financial, cultural, social, spiritual, physical, traditional, and national aspect of the church ensures its life as “The unseen growth that is caused by God.” No other growth can sustain the church, because a church cannot merely be a community club: she is a supernatural organism powered by prayer, if any activity of man can power such a thing.

The Church needs a renewed vision of what Christian is: a life lived by the Cross. A Cross for self-denial, a cross for luxury, a cross for security, a cross for family, a cross for wealth, a cross for power, a cross for injustice, a cross for justice, a cross for service, a cross for celebration, a cross for every precious thing in our lives, a cross for every relationship. Jesus did not love only love people on the cross, he loved people by carrying his cross. Not counting his self-denial as his own, but committing it to the righteous judiciousness of His Father. Not counting his own life something worthy to be saved, but rather, as a precious gift worth giving so that someone else could be saved, and this brought glory to the Father, as “the perfect representation of His nature.” As God’s image, out not we do the same?

This is both a message of doom and joyous hope. Because while every institution of man–even the ones originated with God but have been kept beyond their use to Him–will be overturned, overturned, overturned, the Church who is Christ’s body will merely be changing clothes. The Robes of Righteousness of the saints must remain white, washed regularly in the blood of the Lamb who leads the way to life through his own sacrificial death. If the robes will not be cleansed, they must be changed to what God intends. Again here prayer is the answer, confession of sin which stupefies the body with sin-selfish sleep and repentance–the changing of the inner being and outer doing by the renewing of the mind.

The Kingdom of Christ is a Rock made without hands and therefore no chisel in a man’s hand can harm it; only that which is added onto it by man’s hands will slide off this ever-growing mountain of Daniel’s Vision which shall fill the whole earth! So pick your side: will you carry your ross with Jesus in prayer, and repentance laying down all of your life, thereby saving it, or will you seek to save your life by staying with man’s kingdom and lose it all? For those who leave anything un-crucified in their life, this is a message of doom, for those who surrender all their life to the cross, this a message of hope.

A Cleansing Dive into a Garden in Eden

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 I offer to you, dear reader, a personal journey of subjective relationship with the Lord. It’s a multifaceted journey that is meant to show the evidence of Christ working in me utilizing imagination and my spirit as the lamp of the Lord. May you be encouraged by any insights herein derived for your edification. 

July 8, 2023

This is a “Spirit Searching the Depths” kind of imagination, in which I sorted through my life and came out the other side, with a greater understanding of priorities in life and how to enjoy life to the fullest.

I wrestle my scattered thoughts beneath my control.
I am seeking the truth at Your hand.
[I picture a cat with a toy.] No cat’s paw can seize with a more strenuous and precise pounce. The cat eyes his pray with focus, just as I eye the imaginary sight and carefully lay hold of it, like a jeweled egg.
Light flashes from within it. Pink like a flame. It bursts forth and soars up ahead, and I fly after it. The world around me rushes past, and much is a blur. I settle on two feet.

[Interruption]

The ground is not there anymore, I am floating in the white construct.[1] I have boots. I find the ground loaded beneath again.

Ahn whishkeh mau oon.
Rahleigh westoon wayess.[2]

Can I go into a place where I am welcome and find there treasures of hidden gold?
[Though another is nearby]
I have sought and found much here, and will not be deterred by a quailing heart.
Father in Heaven, in Jesus name, let me enter.

[1] From the matrix

[2] Writing whatever words seem to represent what I am speaking in my spirit.

Entering into Vivid Imagination

I enter the gate into a grand and green countryside. The sky is blue over rolling hills bright with summertime. The warmth in the air is verdant and famous with life. The waters of the stream are the same waters I found after my time in the cave long ago.[1] I ran in the cool waters and the light was shining then. I found a way forward out of darkness and under the open sky.

O Lord, is heaven open to me? O let me see into the expanse the knowledge that is too wonderful for me.

The sky is frighteningly vast. I am in search of . . . no . . . more like caught up in it overwhelmed by its enormity. I have often been frightened by the night sky in the real world, and here I am finding greater eights and I am emboldened with pleasurable confidence to probe more deeply inot the heavens and see who is there. I am here.

Can I see the planets as you see them?

They spin with light, dancing and whirling in their courses. A Great dance it is.[2] Rings within rings, but on every possible axis and angle. Smatterings of broken rocks from collisions long since collided. It is more than my breath for I do not need to breathe here.

I falter, or at least I slow. What am I doing here? Is this the eye of “The Dig,”[3] which is where “all living minds communicate perfectly” in imagination to create stories and can easily get lost from the importance of reality? Perhaps. The real world possesses enough perils and intrigues and importances which I happily engage in. Lord, I give you my imagination as a tool for discovering more of what the Spirit sees. The deep things of God, or perhaps only the deep well of understanding in my own spirit which You have dug and sprung up from yourself there. I am not a source of wisdom, but enjoy it when I find it, and give it as freely as I have received it.

How will all of this mean something in the end? Creative writing is best done unimpeded, but O for the powerful heat of flow. Is it creative or destructive? My own volcano can and should be utilized to bring forth new heat into cold areas of life long left dormant and unexplored.

Will you show me what You want me to see? I enjoy the heat of heart as the mind takes flight in the forming and engaging with, writing and erasing of thoughts, but I want to see what You see Lord? Lord, I am not here to seek anything at all, save You, the true prize of this venture.

[1] See The Cave on Wondercano

[2] C.S. Lewis’s Space Trilogy, Perelandra.

[3] The Dig, computer game by Lucas Arts. Steven Spielberg was a writer for it.

Conversing in the Spirit with the Lord

I am here.[1]
______Then why do I feel so aloof, so limited in the amount of access I have to You.
Not limited by Me.
______Am I limited by anything else?
Your choices. What choices? Age of Empires? Harris Teeter? Yes to both. The part time in your mind?[2] Of course it is of me. So it is not a banishment [from closeness with You] but a season. Yes, only. And ______Age of Empires?
*Smiles*”What do you hope to receive from this game?”
______To merely enjoy a part of your good creation that will enhance my thought, and grant feelings of pleasure.

Then go for it. I put no hinderance upon you.

______Do I do it at the expense of something you would rather me do?

Not exactly.

______Is it at the expense of something that I would rather do?

“Only you can answer that.”

What do I want? I do long for the heart stirring flourish of creative thought again. Stories well written evoke in me the desire for more creative outlets. Ways to express the beauty and truth of what You show me, and to share the delight of what I learn. Will Age of Empires, a strategy war game, give me that? It is a lesser desire, but I find my heart is often weary of pursuing my greater desires.

I long for an apprehension of the Christ in personal transformative way by which You may execute the effect in the world You would seek to have through me. This is wearisome to the flesh, but invigorating in the spirit. And I live in both worlds of flesh and spirit. In Flesh, I need money to cover my procedures, and in the Spirit I wish to simply sit at Your feet. Although, I confess, times before You have often felt like catchup of late. Just to go beyond and sit at Your feet and enjoy the refreshment of my heart’s every desire satisfied in you. Angels attend, and hurts mend, thoughts transcend, and Your face commends. The World bends to that eternal space where goodness and truth never, ever end. Just to simply be Your friend.

What has kept me from this? Is it marriage? Work? Play? Possessions? Each in their own way will fill the space at the center as I allow. You are within each, but any of these at the center is the detriment of itself and all the others.

The heart has room to moan here. It has room to let tears slide down. For laughter to scoop out the soot of repressed hurts, and cast up a happy and relaxed sigh of contentment. “Dark have been my dreams of late.”[3] I wish I could find the way back home, but in translation, and in the beauty of music, and in the love of my beautiful wife, and the joy of unobstructed play, time has healed this wound, and beauty has returned, as I imagine angels leaning in close to hear the song of my play. When my heart smelled putrid from the desires granted audience before it and imbibed in, no messenger of heaven would stand so close. The cold shiver I felt of the wind rushing away would remain a hollow space where the glory once abode upon me. This may seem this way of course not withstanding the truth that You will never leave me nor forsake me.[4]

But I am still rather adrift in this place in Raleigh. My friends are far or new, my church getting used to me but rightly handling things, my wife 50% full, my work fulfilling, and space still being made. New bold things are attempted. Old things are tried and found wanting.[5] Music grows slippery in my hand, and considerations are given to the elderly, who hear what my journey has so far revealed.

What is revealed so far? I am anointed by the Spirit of God, for the revealing of Jesus Christ, interested in walls. But what of city walls being more about the gates than the walls? What about God’s security being in relationships between humans rather than fences that supposedly make good neighbors? What about my desire to open doors for people, and my aversion to them being closed to me? How can one so unsocialized be a friend to the hearts of men? “How will I find food in the wilderness Lord?”[6] Just keep following Me. Confess it? Jesus Christ is come in the flesh. [1 John 4:4] Just keep talking with Me.

Your love which welcomes me into this intimacy is the sweetest treasure that glistens in the tears that collect in the corners of my eyes. I do love the freshness of the words You speak in the heart. You find a young man now, who while he enjoys the sound of your voice, still has an easy tendency to let other things push him around.

[1] Italics are usually what I hear from the Spirit speaking. If it’s in “quotes” it’s from some thing other than Him, or I’m not sure who or what is the source of it.

[2] The Lord let me know that working part time at Harris Teeter was His direction.

[3] King Theoden The Two Towers, Lord of the Rings.

[4] Joshua 1, Matthew 28:20.

[5]  Shane Shaddix shared feedback on the 10 stages, and Devin took my insights for a schooling in Joshua.

[6] Ten Commandments, Moses.

Insight and Spiritual Cleansing

To work and to keep the garden.[1] To guard it. To take this Eden place, where I may eat of any tree, and let nothing in this garden, this fountain of rivers of life, in my heart that would be unworthy of You. Have I done so?

I stand amidst the trees, and look around. The serpent is in the black shadow of the tree.[2] His voice seems slithery, ready to speak.

“Do you not find your pleasure in other things besides the tree of life?”

I find pleasure in all the trees of the garden, which the Lord has given me. Behold, the Raleigh tree, the Rebekah Tree, the Games Tree, the Running Tree, the Organization Tree, the Meeting people Tree, ah but the jewel the best of all, is the Tree of Life, of which you may not partake.

“What more could a son of God want?”

He gives me every desire, but the creeping things which have entered the garden, like other sexual desires, or interests, are slitherings which you have whispered in my ear. BLOW AWAY YOU FOUL FIEND!! YOU ARE CAST OUT BY THE SOUND OF THE VOICE OF ONE WHO IS AUTHORIZED, PROTECTED, VICTORIOUS, and POSITIONED in CHRIST JESUS MY LORD. YOU WILL NOT HAVE ANY SAY IN THIS GARDEN OF MY HEART. YOU ARE A DECEIVER, AND NOTHING, NO PERSON, NO FRUIT I COULD TAKE INTO THIS GARDEN IS WORTH THE COST. I REBUKE, No, the LORD REBUKE YOU, BY THE GLORIOUS POWER OF THE CROSS OF JESUS CHRIST! NO FEAR OF MAN CAN PLUCK ME FROM HIS HAND.[3] YOU ARE VANQUISHED AND BANISHED FROM THIS GARDEN. YOU AND ALL OTHER OF YOUR MINIONS! FARE POORLY, YOU SPAWN of LIES, DARK-MONGERER, DEATH SLAVE-DRIVER! OUT! GET OUT!!!!!!!!

Father, forgive me. I have suffered the world, the flesh, and the devil to draw me toward the tree of knowledge of good and evil in this garden of my heart. Drawn toward an individual. I nail it to the cross! Drawn to lustful thoughts. I nail it to the cross. The Cross is become my tree of Life! For by it, I am crucified to the world, and the world to me, and on the other side, I lay hold of resurrection by which I will see You, my Savior’s face!

Thank You for this garden of delights! Thank you for Your glorious tree of life, of knowing and trusting You! Thank you for Your provision, and for the battles that I have fought and won, by the blood of Jesus Christ. Thank you for a church home for now. Thank you for my wife. Thank you for bringing me through many dangers toils and snares. Forgive me for how I have turned away from simply loving and serving You and others. Sin is ever present crouching, desiring to have me. Help me by Your Spirit to not grant it any access to destroy what You wish to create.

And so, gathering thoughts, sowing seeds of spirit, entering imagination, leaving the open heaven, exploring far, and seeking You, a refreshment of my spirit with the sweetness of relationship, and a showdown in my heart, my own personal garden of Eden, in which the answers come together.

All of these things I am free to enjoy. Adam and Eve did not eat of every tree in the garden all the time, there was always more than they could ever try in one day. But when the Tree in the middle of the garden, the tree of Life, is imbibed, then life is forever with You, and all these other trees are delicious: Rebekah, work, children, games, etc.

Final Word to Self

[4]But none of them are the tree of Life. And you know where to find it.

It is a garden that needs tending, and guarding, because the evil one is deceitful, more crafty than any living thing. If he can get you super focused on any other tree as your tree of life, you will become more and more dissatisfied, and you will start to think that the tree which lets you determine your own way of good and evil, denying faith in God will be the right answer. So, by all means enjoy games, and whatever He has given you to enjoy. They are His gifts, but sleep every night under His tree, and wake every morning beginning with that which is food indeed.

[1] Bible Project podcast was instrumental to the following insight. The application is my own.

[2] I remember this image from a children’s picture bible.

[3] In Christ Alone Keith and Krystin Getty

[4] Here I begin to speak to myself.

A “Pilgrim’s Progress” Dream: Christian Retirement

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I slept, and in the morning time before waking, I recall I had this part of my dream.

I was on the way with a bunch of Pilgrims to the Celestial City. I was walking down the road after Vanity Fair right before Doubting Castle. The later afternoon sun was to my left and there was a cornfield all around me. The path emptied out into this lane 20-feet wide each direction which was made of mowed-down corn stalks and mud. It reminded me of walking the Disney Marathon. The cornfield path was mowed down along the narrow path to the Celestial city, but the wide path gently swerved off to the right as it came to a tall hedge. There was a gap in the hedge with an old rancher’s gateposts (One post on either side, and a wooden beam across the top) The hedge was too thick to see through but through the gate, I could recognize from my reading of Pilgrim’s Progress, the rocky, difficult path that Christian and Faithful had to travel, and the lush green grass beyond it, and further the clump of trees in which Christian and Faithful got lost by following Vain Confidence. I looked through the gate narrow so that two people could walk side-by-side, but kept on going down the wide corn-mowed path. I did not know that it was leading me out of the way. I thought that the gate was like the stile over which Christian and Faithful got out of the way, so I went along with everyone.

We walked a little further to a beautiful oak tree covered hilly landscape. Through the oak trees was a huge brick home with white trim and a black shingle roof that stretched longwise in both directions. It was a Christian Retirement home. People stayed there to wait their turn to be called to finish. New arrivals, according to the one in charge of the mansion, would be good for another year. I went inside, and witnessed a conversation between two caucasian ladies and an African-American lady. The two Caucasian ladies politely suggested the African-American lady that she had to find another place to live. I was shocked. This was a demonstration of selfish, petty, racism. I knew I had to go back to find the narrow gate.

After this, I awoke and told my wife my dream. She saw in the dream a warning: that Christian Retirement is not a thing. Instead, we have to keep going on the path to the Celestial City, which will mean difficulty and hardship, and we will be tempted by doubt and despair and vain confidence, but we must be faithful.

The Enemy’s Scheme

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In the spirit, I presume, of the Screwtape Letters by C.S. Lewis, let me share what I think is a glimpse into one of the schemes of the Evil One of which we should not be ignorant:

“Let the nation burn with the fires of sex. As it leaves the fireplace of marriage, that which He meant for light and comfort will destroy their homes, and their shelter will be lost. Then people will consume each other for fuel to keep warm.” laughed the Evil One, “And all the while their hearts grow more unfeeling; and they quickly forget His likeness found in sexual union, and those ‘images of Him’ born from these unions will be brought up in a place where, in His very blessedness that bore them, He is completely unrecognizable.”

His Face

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Someone on Facebook asked the question: “What made Jesus compelling to you?” My answer was, “His Face.” He said that he was “interested to hear more!” I asked him if I could give him a long answer as to why. This is my long answer as to why I find His face compelling.

How do I know Jesus’ face? I’ve been collecting a kind of mosaic.

  1. In the Scriptures in the original languages. My Dad wrote this for me in my first Greek New Testament. It’s from A.T.R. “A Grammar of the Greek New Testament” pg xix. “There is nothing like the Greek New Testament to rejuvenate the world which came out of the Dark ages with the Greek Testament in its hand. Erasmus wrote in the Preface to his Greek Testament about his own thrall of delight: ‘These holy pages will summon up the living image of His mind. They will give you Christ Himself, talking, healing, dying, rising, the whole Christ in a word; they will give Him to you in an intimacy so close that He could be less visible to you if He stood before your eyes.’” I personally have found this to be true not only in the New Testament, but also in the Old. The Face of Yahweh, is revealed at last in the divine human face of Jesus. “He who has seen [Jesus] has seen the Father.” (John 14:9)
  2. Visions. He has let me see something of Him, which of course is appropriated to my being enabled to receive, and the purpose He has for me according to which any revelation is designed to conform me to Him. This is submitted to Scripture. Also, all of this is in relationship with God, as I seek to engage with God with a “pure in heart” (they will see God) and “clear conscience.” (1 Tim 1:5)
  3. Scripturally exemplified relationships. When I see Jacob’s story of wrestling with the “man” I see how he engaged with Him, and afterward went to see Esau. When he saw Esau, Jacob says, “. . . I see your face as one sees the face of God, and you have received me favorably.” Gen 33:10 This is translatable as “I have seen your face like seeing the face of God, and you have favored me.” How did he know what seeing the face of God was? He recognized the favor in Esau’s face according to God’s face. So, I recognize Jesus’ face in love and relationships. As the musical Les Miserables ends, “To love another person is to see the face of God.”
  4. Interest. I am a very interested person, because I know that through Jesus everything was made, which means everything that exists has come through Jesus, and I like tracing it back to him. As G.K. Chesterton says, “There is no such thing on earth as an uninteresting subject; the only thing that can exist is an uninterested person.” I have an open face to see the world, to know what it all means as coming from Him. This open face is what I love about children (I’m a school teacher) because their hearts are so full of wonder. And when I welcome them in His name I welcome Him, and I recognize Him. (Mark 9:37)
  5. Art. When I see a painting that answers what He has revealed to me through His word, through the Holy Spirit, through relationship, and the world around me, I do not worship that “image” or “idea,” I take it to God as I seek to know Him face-to-face personally not eidetically or un-livingly. Examples: The famous picture by Akiane Kramarik, the Nathaniel Hawthorn Story: “The Great Stone Face,” Michael Card’s Song “His Gaze” are all parts of the mosaic, which bear some likeness to the One I know personally!
  6. Glory. Not the glory of man, but as I worship Him, I know His glory, and that glory is the revelation of Christ. As Paul writes in 2 Corinthians 4:6, “For God, who said, ‘Light shall shine out of darkness,’ is the One who has shone in our hearts to give the Light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Christ.” And the more time we spend “seeking His face” in worship, the more the light of His face will shine through us.

So, I know His face by pure heart, clear conscience, and sincere faith in His Word, by His Spirit, with love, throughout creation, from his revelations, and as worship. And it is beyond compelling. It is beyond compare. It is . . . altogether lovely.

The Captain’s Voyage

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In this story, the earth was flat, and the edge was terrible! The land was on the edge of the plate, with waters in the middle and below it cascading waterfalls over the edge into the abyss below. In from the rim, there was a great and vast sea that spread over the whole area within the Rim World, and in the center of the Sea was rumored a dark hole, ever enshrouded in cloud and rain. The waters flowed in the sea out from the center, onto the beaches of the Rim World, and underneath eroding the underside. The inhabitants of the Rim World knew or chose not to know that they and the land were doomed to destruction, should no way of escape be found. Many lived inland as far from either shore they could to feel the security of land everywhere their eyes looked, still others sought to turn away from the waters of judgment flowing from the Center, and stared off the terrible edge into the black seeking false promises of salvation in the Abyss itself. But from this abyss, no salvation could be found.

Still others looked from the shore of the Rim World to the inner Sea, and in this world, sooner or later, most people came to take up the profession of Sailing. Ships sailed around and around the Rim and the Center. Every once in a while, the Column of cloud and swirl of rain in the distance at the center lit up with a golden flash like a lantern. One time this happened, a Captain in port of the Rim met a man who told of one who had fallen into the Center Abyss and had returned. He said, for those who have the courage, the center is the doorway to a New Heavenly World. There was also a story that the waters near the centered flowed down from the Heavens, and that the Center let anyone whose ship belonged to the Master of the Seas to sail among the Heavens with Him. And so the flashes of gold would light up the dismal hopeless lands as reportedly, a ship would rise from the Center up to the Heaven World.

This Captain believed, and started preparing his vessel, setting off from port. Many had attempted this journey, but few completed it. The Water flowed contrary to the Vessel out from the Center, but the Wind blew ever toward the Center. But people would go so far and roll up their sails, or suffer themselves to be driven back to the Rim. But the Heaven World was for those whose sails were open on their journey to the Center.

The Captain settled in his heart he and his crew were going to the Center. He knew the Rim world was doomed to fall into the nothingness over the edge, so being pulled out to sea, he opened his sails and waited. The Holy Wind filled his sails and carried him along. At first, he rode around staying near the shore empowered by this new wind, but he soon learned that the wind bore a voice that spoke to him in the rattling and flapping of the sails calling him to remember his quest, and the One who went before. So with his crew, he and a fleet of sailing ships made for the ominous cloud round the hole that was hastening the rim’s demise with its downpour.

In a fearsome fog and storm, the Captain had to learn to follow the Voice on the Wind alone and soon came through the fog, along with a handful of boats. The rest stayed in the fog or turned back.

As they sailed, they came upon a Cruise ship which had dropped anchor part way between the center and the land at a little floating dock in the water. People were celebrating the Wind’s cool breeze and their avoidance of the Rim world’s destruction, and they powered their docks with windmills. Being content with company and this world, often they would sail back and forth between the Rim and the floating town, to repeat the simulation of their journey to the center. But often such docks lasted only a short while in these turbulent seas, and people left floating would either go back to the Rim world, or struggle to build another wharf. Still others would return to their original quest. This last group was very few.

The Captain moored in this floating harbor called “Near Gathering” and when he saw that it would one day fall, sinking daily despite the efforts of the cruise ship captain, he listened for the wind, which spoke of a specific path to the Center he must take. He announced to his fellow captains, whose boats were all moored there like cars in a parking lot, and said to them, “The Wind has spoken to me, if I am to reach the Center, this is my path to take. What say you? Will anyone go with me?” Many counseled him to stay and help keep their floating wharf afloat, but some who knew the true aim of any Sailor’s quest committed them to the Voice on the Wind they all heard, and the Captain moved beyond, now with a couple of ships following him.

The Next journey’s stage was choppy but wind-swept. Wreckages of ships sailing for the Center nearly lost, with flotsam and jetsam and men and women overboard. The Captain and his crew had been charged with the task of rescue and recovery; but many they rescued wished only to return to land, some wanted to return to the floating wharf, and the Captain sailed to and from the Wharf to drop people off. Eventually, he saw that there was too much work for him alone to accomplish for those shipwrecked between the Center and the Rim world. He knew two causes of the ship-wrecks: a sea serpent beneath the surface and jagged rocks upon which other former captains now stood to raid and commandeer other ships in waters choppy and churning not only with the downpour of water not far away, but the swirling sea monster they had been un-shipped to serve. Each was the King of his own island, and they fought each other, except when it came to preventing other captains from reaching the Center. Then they worked together.

The Captain kept his sails open as he steered past these jagged rocks, ever listening to the Voice on the Wind and being vigilant for the attacks, persuasions, or feigned friendship of the other Entrapping Captains seeking to plunder the treasure his vessel had gathered with the flotsam and jetsam and to rule yet another minion of their own dark corners of the world. The flow of water was against, the comfort of land behind drew them back, the encouragement of the floating wharf seemed more palatable, and the work of rescuing shipwrecked was so necessary. Perhaps this Captain should turn back, he wondered.

But no. He had set out for the New Country. The Heaven World. These who blocked the way were preventing many from entering and were themselves not entering. Woe to them! They had taken their stand in opposition to the Master of the Sea’s intention to let all who wish, come and enter in. He denounced them on their threatening Spires and bade them repent and stop oppressing the poor, and instead leave their tiny Rim-worlds and get onto his ship as he made for the Heaven world. None heeded his call, and now, a fear of the Master of the Seas constrained them, from their attack. Sailing wind-swept and voice-led, he passed the row of jagged rocks that were all that remained from here to the whirlpool at the center or so he thought.

The Sea Serpent ruled these lands directly, and began battering the Ship. The Captain quailed at first wondering if it was too late to turn back for the Rim world, but then he remembered the Joy of the Heaven world and he turned his wheel to tack full force on the Wind. He was so near the edge of the whirlpool now. At the very last, as the keel of his ship broke the wall of the Swirl, the sea serpent charged its head straight through the heart of the ship, and reared its ugly dragonhead at him. Many of his men went overboard as the ship lifted up out of the water, but the Captain held his wheel fast. “You have failed,” he cried, “For I am still kept by the Wind, and He will carry me to His everlasting Kingdom.” And so the Dragon could not withstand the wind and the rain here so near to the Center, and falling backwards he descended down the black pit being cast cast down until he was seen no more. The Ship settled back in the water now began to founder and was caught in the swell of the Sea’s whirlpool, spinning downward, downward toward the dark into which the serpent had fallen. All grew dark around the Captain and his men.

Then, suddenly, the torrent of black and water around him turned to golden light caught in the now illuminated water swirling like blown glass windows gleaming with the light of the sun. The Ship once descending was now ascending and or a moment the swirl of water pulsing out from the center ceased as the whirlpool’s polarity reversed. The clouds broke, the rain stopped, and all around the world from the jagged rocks to the shipwrecked peoples, to the floating wharf, to the fog enshrouded to the newly sailing, to the Rim world inhabitants, to those on the edge of oblivion, all of them saw that familiar glow at the Center of the flat earth. They saw someone had made it. The water’s outflow was stilled, and it was easier to sail toward this beacon of light again; so like many moths to a flame, the sea was filled with white sails all endeavoring to make the same journey to the New Heaven World.

For the Captain and the few of his crew who clung to the Ship, their rising up was a joy and a celebration. They praised the Maker of this way, and eagerly awaited their new home to which they neared moment by moment. Beyond the clouds and rain and out of sight of the jagged rocks, and treacherous waters, they came to a fair mild water way above the one they had just left. The Ship with its breached hull was changed to now be made of wood that would never sink. It bore the scars of its battles, and its treasures that were fit for this new world, and the Captain felt the Wind not only in the Sails, but all around him.

He lifted his eyes and saw a Heavenly Kingdom: a great golden city on land, and the waters were not flat, but rather they continued perpetually in a sphere and the Kingdom was alight all around as if the Blue sky above and the land all about glowed as with a light within and without. A Small sea round the portal flowed down in a waterfall, but the further away the ship sailed, it narrowed to a river which the Captain steered no longer to navigate. Rather, the wind carried him up the River of life; on either side of the River grew trees of different fruit and the city of Gold rose up on either side; the River ended at a great throne, and the One who sat upon it was the one whose Wind had carried His voice. He said, “Welcome home, Captain.”

And there was great celebration as the one who sat enthroned was praised for the Rescue of another, and the Captain was given the Rank of Commodore, and given charge of ten cities in this new world. And he ruled at the side of His Master for the rest of forever.

The Cave and the River

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Toes stubbing on uneven wet shale
The weight of rock dampening overhead
The horizon was a distant ribbon of blue and white sky
Here in the cold I trudge comfortless

Each step feels like moving backwards
The flow of time is a stopped train restarting
Futility I breathe in, Hopelessness I breathe out
How do invisible thorns grow where there is no sun?

Above, all is dirty, burdensome black
I remember when the heaven’s used to sing my name
When the life growing with me danced in rhythm
And the others did not fear my face

But here, a gloom has shaded my eyes.
The fire within once lit my way inside
Then I quenched the flame from the giver,
And gave myself over to the tangles of the dark.

O to soothe my tear-smudged face
With the crystals offering pale ghost light
Just some digging in the dirt
And my strength can feel real again for a moment.

No! Like Puddleglum in the Underworld,
I remember to myself reminded
That the sky is not made of ore
Nor is there any thing of life to be found in here.

My Beloved is near. He never leaves me.
He bids me lift my eyes to the hills.
Where does my help come from?
My help comes from the Lord, Maker of Heaven and Earth.

With time, my strength regathers,
And I keep on toward that blue ribbon
Fattening on the assurance of hope undeserved
Until I step over the lip of this dreadful dungeon.

The stiff blades of grass spring beneath my feet
Light and lightness as the open air descends
The dome touches my heart with longing
As the warm sun stings my eyes with tears of joy

I spring off the edge into the river
Sweeping me away as if it never stopped
Fresh grace I breathe in, fresh thanks I breathe out.
How can the cut of cold make me more alive as I shiver?

What fire cannot be quenched by any water?
What Symphony of light knows no drowning out?
I ride the current, yea, I lead it in dance
Unashamed of the strong Truth Creation gently whispers

My eyes are glowing like embers
My heart is melted in his heat
Like a wicked candle consumed with holy flame
I can feel once again that I, though unworthy, am His.

I am new! The day is new!
I am warm from within and without all is glad.
The music sings it’s melody in me again
A glorious noon of Springtide made young.

All stains of the dark are washed away
The Sun has disgraced the moon’s facade
I kneel gratefully in the dirt
Raising my arms to receive their nourishment

Yes! I am returned to Your country, O Lord
The dark memory of the past instructs
This is the place for which my heart was designed
Where life’s eternity cannot fence in the roaming of my soul.

My Beloved is near. He never leaves me.
He bids me lift my eyes to the hills.
Where does my help come from?
My help comes from the Lord, Maker of Heaven and Earth.

With time my strength regathers,
And I face the rolling countryside windswept and free
Faith settles simple within me,
As I lift my foot to run the length of it.

Sacred

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I stood in a room of lilac walls with three doors. I opened the golden door on the right and the light inside was glowing red. The walls were red. The man inside the door shouted, “It is horrendous to kill an unborn baby, to rip it apart in the womb!”

I closed the door and walked over to the other golden door. I opened it up and inside it glowed blue. The woman inside cried out, “It is insupportable to deny a woman’s right to get an abortion, because what she does to her own body is her constitutional right!”

I closed the door and walked to the third door. This door was wood and white but smeared with dirt and green vines crept along the wall branching out around it. I moved slowly, silently toward it. I reached out my hand and opened the door.

Inside there was no light, but the vines were very green and thick trailing back into the black within. I crept forward and was instantly struck by how silent the place was– as if 1000 ears were listening and none dared to utter a peep to disturb what was being heard. I entered in further away from the lilac-walled room and my eyes began adjusting to the black. The walls were green, but by no paint, purely made up of the things living in this room. Where do they get their sunlight? I wondered. This room looked long-forgotten.

I stepped on a small, leafy sapling twig, which broke making a tiny keek. The effect rippled through the vines of the room and myself concurrently. Both shuddered, calamity filled my heart with ache, and the vines gently pulsed.

But then it returned to the quiet. Something was different. I knelt down to examine my offense. The little leaf was dangling. There was nothing I could do. I shed a tear from my eye which I dribbled with my finger down the stem. It seemed to accept my contrite offering with an unassuming nod.

I looked around the room again. The vine below me was as thick as a sledgehammer-head and ran along the ground to the far wall. And as I looked I saw that a shoot came off from it and increased in length, though much thinner. As I looked, it was clear where the thick vine stopped and where the thin vine began, and yet both were the same vine.

But the answer to the riddle in my heart was not to be found here. My eyes followed the thick vine back into a dark corner of the room. Then, for the first time since entering the room, I started to see traces of light through the thickly-packed growth of the vines clogging every wall. I stepped carefully, and with gentle hands pried close woven vines apart, until I could see: there was a window! And not merely a window but a corner of two glass walls! It had been growing so long that the inner part of the room was deprived of sunlight, but it was still very much alive!

Then I knew where I was. Here was a room with no floor; it was planted in the earth. And all around there was life and beauty and expansion even into the lilac colored room. Here was a room that needed more sunlight to see its beauty.

Then I understood: this vine is living and filling the whole space with its stalks and off-shoots. And yet, it needed care, cultivation and someone to stay here and make it beautiful. Someone who loved the plant could decide how it was best to be kept. It was rightly owed to the root, to the planter of the seed, and the owner of this multi-directional sunroom, for his plant to succeed in its design: full growth. The root decides what will grow, and the wise caretaker must decide once the sapling has had a chance to grow how it will aid the master plan.

I stayed there and received instruction. And I asked my Friend who was with me:

“What do You think?”

“There is more.”

I worked gingerly, painstakingly, and boldly to make room for more sunlight. The effect was unimaginable. The light peered in an ever-widening beam through that dark jungle like a sudden brass solo out of a silent orchestra pit. The vines all reached their tendrils in the direction of the light. The light peered past me into the lilac room, and the vines followed. I kept directing, braiding, organizing, and feeding the stalks around to allow light to shine through. The doorway to the lilac room soon became so overgrown I did not know if I could enter back the way I came again. This however was indeed where I had come to fight the battle for life, and I could see that life was winning again.

Soon, the vines which had sought to wrap around me many times suddenly started popping with life. I turned and looked and saw the lilac room floor, wall, and ceiling was well-lit and now beautified with jasmine, and the fragrance filled the whole room with the sweetness of new life.

All except for the Red and Blue rooms. Their golden doors did not open to let the plant nor its fragrance enter in.

I stepped carefully back out of the room now swarming with life, and as I wiggled my way back into the lilac-colored, now flower-covered room, I turned to the door and started to clean away the dirt smudges on the front of it. As I did a word became clear, one letter at a time.

“Sacred.”

I have seen Enough–Part 3

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Suddenly, countless gleaming jewels of all different colors covered the surface of the earth. Each one in turn told the Story in a different way. Their multi-colored glow grows brighter and brighter.

The one who stood to the East said:

-I see the tree a bounty of seeds has born.
-The fruit is sweet yet hemmed about with thorns.
-Broken o’er creation again is the new light of day.
-Brightening more brilliantly, chasing night away.
-The Man also, he is reborn
-With joy he bears suffering and scorn.
-His re-creation has made him play and sing
-To his Creator for all things new making.
I . . .

The one who stood to the South said:

-I see the world still fallen down so steep.
-Injustice’s wounds have run so deep.
-Still there is something which smacks of injustice
-To self, so that others may become rich.
-The Man also, is failing and broken.
-He toils to heal deep wounds unspoken.
-He chooses to make himself nothing
-That through his poverty others might have life abounding.
I have . . .

The one who stood to the West said:

-I see death here still takes its toll.
-Like a great tide it’s waters still roll.
-And yet each death like a crushed leaf.
-Bears the promise of life that spells death’s defeat.
-The Man also, his days are few.
-His death is like to the Man who knew.
-Yet, in his end, he bears witness
-Of the life beyond which he meets with bliss.
I have seen . . .

The one who stood to the North said:

-I see the powers of the world are crumbling
-They thrash and clamber to scramble out from tumbling
-Into the chasm opening beneath to finish him off
-As a new kingdom eternally takes its place built on solid rock.
-The Man also, rejects power as futile.
-He takes his stand while the earth sinks around him.
-He opens his arms to receive the penitent
-And the power and riches of the new Kingdom, he shares
. . . enough!

And The Voice came from the throne above:

“Have you seen enough?”