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.

The Rose No One Noticed on the Tree

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The rose no one noticed on the tree
No writer penned its irony
Twas outshined by the the true Rose of Sharon,
Whose blood stained white its petals red

The rod that budded lifeless but for the miracle of Choice
The culminating bloom of fruit bearing the seed of a New Humanity
To be sown into the ground and die and to abide alone
The picturesque in a Person more real than sign of stem

But no one noticed that rose,
Only an artist who wasn’t even there
Who knows too many roses he has missed in his lifetime
Who sings now the unsung song
Of the rose upon the tree which no eye could see.

Sabbath

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Out the window, I see the sky and remember
Your sun brightens eyes like no electric ember
Even in the night’s canopy I ponder
The stories You tell in the stars beyond.

Caves, roofs, and trees all shelter
Me from the rains of inconvenience and disaster
But once a week, O just to seek
The sky to remind my eyes so weak
That though life’s shadows may be bleak
There is rest for those who shirk pride; who are meek

To shoulder no burden save the air
To bear no care but the sunrise
To soak in the cool spring of all that’s fair
And be drawn deeper into Your eyes.

Parable: Two Temples

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Once upon a time in a great kingdom far away, there was at the center of the realm, a Temple. This temple was immense, and it was also a garden. Fruit trees, cherry blossoms–a self-sustaining eco-system where the animals and plants all produced and flourished with life. It was tended and kept by watchful guardians, and it was perfect.

Then one day, someone came and dumped a ton of trash in the center of the garden. The keepers of the garden were devastated and since they didn’t know how to deal with the trash, they left it there. And the trash started to mess with the ecosystem and make it fester. It started to pollute the whole garden until it overran it. People abandoned their care of the garden, and they abandoned visiting the temple, but their hearts still hungered for the beauty of the temple.

So they started building temples of dead things, and started to put up artificial fruit trees. The people there were all very friendly, but they had only one rule: you had to call the artificial trees, “real fruit trees.”

One day a visitor from a neighboring kingdom came and visited the realm, and went to the temple they had constructed, and he remarked to them all, “What is with all the fake trees?” The people politely corrected him since he was a stranger, “They aren’t fake, they are real.” And he said, “No they’re not. In my kingdom, our fruit trees bear real fruit and you can eat them. This is not a real fruit tree.” Impatiently, they said, “Well, when you are in our kingdom, you will call these real fruit trees. If you don’t like it you can leave.” And he said, “What about the garden at the center of your kingdom? Don’t you have real fruit trees there?” At this they grabbed him and kicked him out of their temple and said, “Don’t come back here again, if you’re going to treat us so disrespectfully!”

Scratching his head, the visitor went to the center and saw all the trash littered there, and he started to call people in the kingdom to help him clean it up. A handful of them worked together until at least a small part of the Garden looked like it did before. Then he brought to them the fruit from the center of the Kingdom, and offered it to the people in the “Artificial Temple.” Of course they had some type of fruit, but it was imported and borrowed and as artificial as the trees, but not nutritious. He offered the fruit to anyone who would take it, and when he handed the fruit to someone who accepted it, he called the fruit a word which they did not understand at first.

Sacred.

The Center of the Holy

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I wish that words could capture what it is I’m trying to say
It can’t but that’s okay, it gives access in the moment:
Plaguing anxiety, weight deadening and chilled
A cool grip of loneliness, lit only by a dim fear light
The ugliness ‘gainst which I toil to scratch a living for others
Nay! My lack, my loss, my wasted time, futility my only fruit.

To the end, I press until I break. I break from this frightful trap
I sink ‘neath billows of sorrow sharp and painful, doleful, woeful, wailing
I cry unto the Savior who hears my cry and answers.
He shows himself beautiful in promised truths that break through the clouds.
My fearful flame is cast off with disdain as I blaze with a new flash of hope.
Th’eternal gospel kingdom fully accomplished in Jesus’ name.

That same name by which I am sealed, and whose glory is my only aim.
No weight of ugly sorrow can be matched with such a radiance.
Nor does it lose its value in the bright rays of joy at the recognition of His face.
Rather, recognizing how much more glorious He is than every sorrow,
Makes even this storm in which I am tossed, a beautiful golden display of His light.
Blessed be He, that not that for which I suffer loss, but He is the center.

I wish that words could capture what it is I’m trying to say
But it can’t and that’s okay.
It’s the center of the Holy
And only those touched by the Holy may enter.
Ask and it will be given to you.
Seek and you will find.

Parable: The Well

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The Kingdom of Heaven is like a man who dug a well in search of water. He dug a short ways and found no water. He knew of wells nearby which had run dry and were now muddy because people kept filling them from the water of the lake, but the water was stagnant and stale, and bacteria grew in the well which poisoned the water. So, he dug and dug, and dug some more until at last he struck a deep underground river of pure water. He and his family never went thirsty again.

He who has ears to hear, let him hear.

Hear the Words of Jeremiah the Prophet through whom the Lord said, “If you look for me wholeheartedly, you will find Me.”

To One who Hates God

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When he started channelling his hatred veiled toward me. I know it was not me he was hating, but the one revealed through me. With the filling of the Holy Spirit, I knew the One in me needed to meet the one in him.

Who are you?

I am Jesus whom you are persecuting.

I hate you.

If you hate my Father, you are indeed deceived. He loves you.

If God loves me, then why did He make me gay? Why did he never rescue me from the evil things that happened to me at the hands of your own people.

The answers are too big for you, but if you will follow me, I will show you the pieces that you need to know. I gave my life for you 2000 years ago. What more will it take? Do you need to see my followers suffering the same as me?

All Christians I have met are evil.

Here is a way you can tell if someone is a follower of me. If he’s not taking up his cross, living a life of sacrificial love and service for others, he is not following me. I had to give my life to prove how much I love you. My followers are those who are willing to do the same.

An Unfinished Chiasm

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Keep your Philosophy, Latin and Greek
—I have a Person’s face to seek
——To know the micro expression thoughts
———And the innermost melodies of His heart

———They play in every word well sung
——Read by those seeking truth and love
—His gaze, His lips, His gentle breathing
_________________________________

Who dares to finish it?