The end of the day was a beautiful thought- what if everyone fought to do the dishes because they knew that he who served gains authority to bless, and that the joy of blessing the legacy that has entered the bloodline in one generation is exceedingly good?

The dishes were a joy this year.

The meal was rich and plentiful. Making the meal with others makes it more so.

There is something that has shifted and does shift each year when I put the bird into the oven. God notes the time. He orders the day around it. There is something significant between him and me when that part of the meal, which stays the same, yet always changes, is done. He speaks and sings and prepares, and adds and He becomes…life…in us and around us. He is always joy as we recall together the years it was not possible for me to remove the neck and gizzards myself. He is always hope as we put the bird in and expect the finished product to look and taste delicious. He is always love as he reminds me that the bird gave his life. While for the bird it was not a voluntary choice being made, yet it reminds him of his choice, that day. The full yes.

He gives me grace for the moments each year where all is not love. He longs with me for the time beyond, when all shall be so. He views Thanksgiving differently than most people I know. He was thankful before the Pilgrims. He is the tradition, not man.

He is with me each year as the meal becomes ready, in the moments where not everything is the same temperature and not everything turned out as planned; he reminds me of how my brain has changed, my capacity has changed, and within all that and above all that I am being made new. And I am a new creation, old things are passed away. And we share a moment, in awe of Him, and His ways, and His amazing grace.

I worked out in the morning. As soon as I got on the road the spontaneous thanks began. Thank you God for my breath, for this breath. For overwhelming my heart with your love. For the blood pumping from my heart, for keeping my heart’s emotions alive. Thank you for the brain you have given me. For taking me through the ups and the downs and the roller coaster moments an always circling me back into you. Thank you that you are YOU. We spend some wordless appreciation and tears there.

Thank you for my husband. What a perfect man you chose to perfect me, to sharpen me, to bump me into new levels of yourself. And each child comes next. The tears are streaming as the gratitude flows. My friends are listed and rehearsed and blessed. Every mentor. And each client. And our pets. And then those who have gone on, remembering an thankful for their touches and the the changes they have brought. Then the stuff. I find that when I let it flow through me spontaneously without filter, it is also a super good tool to see that balance remains, and order is in alignment with the ways of Him.

How great is our God! When he brought me out of captivity, we were like those who dreamed. Then our mouths were filled with laughter, and we began to sing. And they said among the nations, the Lord has done great things for us! Yes the Lord has done great things! And we are glad! Those who sow in tears, shall reap in joy. (I borrowed that last paragraph from David.)

Surely he makes everything beautiful in its time. (I borrowed that from David’s son.)

There are seasons more intense than others.
This has been a deep time for me. While my communion has enlarged, I am often left without words to express- the hard awful stuff has brought some completion and changes and I can feel the way I evaluate life changing. One thing the Lord has me doing is reading Scripture aloud to him. I am in the Gospel of John and am struck by how the changes in me have changed the way I read, the pace, the interpretation, the pondering.
Today I was in John 5. I had just heard Dr. Suuquina teach the Hebrew of the Pentateuch so the number 5 being highlighted as the number of porticos at the pool of Bethesda stopped me. How rich when the structure of a life points to God and His ways. Savoring. And I see how the man gets healed and the rulers are so bound by religion they cannot appreciate the miracle. Surely religion always needs to protect its laws lest it be threatened. I sigh. And then I stumble into Jesus response. I am struck that the Father judges no one, for he has given all authority to judge to the Son. And because the Son is now a man, the Father has given the Son the authority to judge the sins of all mankind. But he did not come to condemn. He came to seek and save that which was lost. And as I look at judging in that light, I see, he needed to judge my sin so that he could accurately divide between spirit and soul and die for what separated me from God. He judged my sin so he could assume the debt into his crucifixion.
What would it be like if we judged each other by that standard. If I looked at you and the places I saw your sin would only bring the awareness in me of how much you get to understand his life, his suffering, his death, and his resurrection. What if I did not condemn you for your deficits but it only brought the awe of what the completed picture of you might entail?
What a different picture than what we often do. Assess, judge, decide, opine.
It is funny that in the same passage Jesus notes it is not him that will incriminate me, but Moses. If I look to the law for my resurrection, the law has the power to proclaim my guilt before God.
I am undone by the truth that he looked at me, he saw me, he judged my sin so that he could assume my debt before God. I rest on that precipice today. All else seems smaller in comparison.

Yesterday, I looked at the hardest thing I have ever faced. In the greatest detail. With full emotional connection throughout.

I saw him as he chose to put every heart he was dying for, on the altar at the top of God’s mountain. I could not have doe it without being connected to God and being plugged into my timeline.

The way he came yesterday for me was unusual.
I thought I would write about that today.

I had been listening to a song by Will Regan and United Pursuit. I lean not on my own understanding…my life is in the hands of the maker of heaven. And then it changes into- I will climb this mountain with my hands wide open – I know that I can trust you.

When I began to connect with him in the time set aside for healing yesterday, he came as God. He came as a mountain. I was on his/its side. It was steep. And I was asked to just focus on the next step and to let my hands remain open.

He was in the mountain. He was the mountain. He touched me through it.

At one point I saw Jesus, off to the side. He was on the cross. And I saw a new component. In addition to taking on all sin, rebellion, iniquity, curses and covenants, in addition to taking all trauma, all disease, all infirmity, all sickness, in addition to the identificational thing he did there for each one of us, he also sacrificed.

He looked at every heart that he was dying for. He saw them, knew them, loved them. And he offered them up, as a sacrifice, to his father, on the top of the mountain, so that they would retain their free will. Through his suffering, he learned obedience. This was a part of that, I think. Loving so much that I would die for someone, yet still being willing to not demand any love or loyalty in return. Suffering in the truth that some will go their own way and find a destruction they were never intended for, and choose it, time after time after time, until choice is yielded to the substance of decision.

At one point, during my climb yesterday, I was asked to make my own sacrifice. The hearts that are dear to me, would I be willing, to identify with Abraham, to identify with Jesus, in my small way, and yield my rights to the role that I had perceived was mine as a christian? Would I be willing to stop interceding out of fear that if I stopped they would go astray? The indirect strength that came from Jesus as he made his sacrifice came to me through the mountain of God and aided me.

And if obedience is defined as alignment, it is greater in me today. And if suffering means choosing that which is right no matter how hard, I have suffered. I feel changed today. And I have much to ponder. I cling to the truth that he makes everything beautiful in its time. The fulness has not yet come.

I dreamed this morning. In my dream I was in Black Rock desert, at the festival known as Burning Man. I was in the temple, observing a day gone passed. I saw a man walk in. He was seeking God. He sought the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. He thought he would discern any other voice. Ha laid himself down in the pit, where the rhythmic chanting creates the bubble of environment. He immediately went into a trance, and had the most amazing spiritual experience he had ever had. He felt invigorated, refreshed, touched. He felt seen. It was heady. He got up out of the pit, declaring to himself, if that wasn’t God, I don’t know what was! Over my left shoulder, a crow cawed. And I awoke.

I do not know whether his awakening will mean death to self, death to his body, or death to his spirit. I only know my spirit is troubled, for he was deceived by one of the gods that occupies that bubble. The gate that was open in him for the deception was he was consumed with the need for now.

We are called to live in the now. But we are not of the now. We are of the ‘then’. Any experience that diminishes that truth in us will lead us away from that truth. Living in the now was designed to be an experience in constant tension, so that we would make choice after choice after choice that would eventually up-end the weight of the now. Hence, when our body stops, the weight (only weight is not the right word) of our choices propels into the ‘then’ of eternity beyond, upward we go and off time.

It does not mean we cannot enjoy the now. But when the enjoyment of now exceeds our long term plan for then, it is the soul reigning in the place created for spirit.

There are choices every day. Choices which, by exercising my will, make declarations that will stand as a witness on the earth. The now, or the then. Am I consuming, or stewarding? Am I acting as though this time is the only time I get to satisfy my bodily senses? Or am I in gratitude, experiencing life while allowing for an experience to come that is higher, and wider, and longer and deeper than anything here?

I have had many spiritual experiences. I have been awed, and undone. I have been wordless for days, following some. I am familiar with the headiness of these. I am familiar with the longing for more, especially in the place of desperate need. I grieve for the man, who was seeking the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. His determination to have a spiritual experience, present with his demand for the now filling, created a space in him ready to be deceived by gods pretending to be God.

I know the power of second heaven to convince- indeed, was convinced its power was greater than any other for years. I have no doubt it is compelling. But his outlook on living for ‘then’ has become subdued. His ‘then’ thoughts have diminished and his zeal is for the now stream of consciousness.

I opened an appeal today, in his name. I based his case on his honest desire for the Ancient of Days. I am trusting that the examination of his heart will yield more evidence for the court. For I perceive the enemy has taken advantage of that desire, and deceived him. More testimony will be added soon. Selah.

Recently I was working with a client. This client has multiple issues with health. They have many places internally that are divided as well, from childhood traumas. Part of the work we have done has made it safe for some of those parts to come forward and begin the process of reconciliation. We do other work too, with her spirit and with removal of things that are not her. This particular day followed a season of removal. I had a question for a specific part we have discovered previously. The client looked at me blankly. It was very hard for her to make the connection. And I realized, once again, she had discarded relationship with her insides.

I was crushed.
I am known as an advocate for the insides.
I understand them and use my voice to defend them before they regain theirs.
I admire them, an affirm them, and value them.
For this person to retreat into denial and build a new wall against them was very discouraging for me.

But Jesus does not get discouraged. So we connected with him. And he highlighted that some of the parts she was discarding were important keys to her physical healing. Immediately she was on board with it. When it comes to physical healing she is desperate.

I was left with cynicism. So she cares if their healing affects her physical body, but she doesn’t care when they are left in trauma while she goes on an does life, even though during the trauma she fled and they could not? That didn’t seem fair. I was disgruntled.

I processed this with the Lord on the way home from this client’s house.
And He opened up His word, His life to me. I saw Luke 5, starting at verse 12. There was the leper. Coming to Jesus and saying, if you will it, I will be healed. Jesus saying I will. The healing. And I get a glimpse into Jesus’ heart. There were so many people that came, not because they wanted to get to know him. Not because they wanted the salvation or reconciliation he came to offer. But because they wanted the physical healing. They were defined by their natural world and he represented a solution, rather than a man whose love would change their lives. I felt his heartbreak over this. I heard him say to the leper- tell no one. Go to the priest. Do what the law requires. He knew it was not good for people to see him that way, they would get locked into the desire of their soul an miss the bigger picture of the eternal. But people did find out, about that leper. And they came anyways. For their personal healing, even though his model was never to use his power for himself. I was gripped by his pain over this. And then I saw…me. I was in that crowd, only modern day. I was ‘praying’. Basically I was presenting him with a list of needs for him to fill. How am I any different?

Father forgive me.
As I step into repenting for the places I missed him, relationship, reconciliation, his beauty and wisdom, the flow of his shed blood extends beyond me to the client. As I receive his forgiveness for me, I am able to let go of the judgments my heart was holding against her.

Who am I, to say? he still chose to lay down his life, so she could live, knowing her heart, knowing what I had just discovered about her priorities.

And he also laid down his life for me, knowing the times I would seek what his hand could do for me, instead of seeking him.

As I align with his truth today, instead of what I perceive, I find rest. I am amazed again at the power of the cross. It surely makes a level playing field for us all.