When in my immaturity I come and say- it wasn’t supposed to be like this. My healing was so hard God but I did it expecting my kids to not have to go to that degree of hard. If I had not pursued healing- whould it just look the same?

Then he comes and says-Do you think I was not aware of the widows when Paul came and changed their world? Then he comes and says-do you think I was unaware of the brutality of the Romans and their anger when I had Paul write Romans? Then he comes and says- did you think I did not see injustice or was unaware of the suffering when all had lost faith?

I know he calls me higher.

But his next question reveals my heart in a way both merciful and terrifying.

If you could use turkey feathers and a spell to fix this would you?

And my yes answer reveals how easily I would usurp him to do what I want, acting as though I were a better god.

He does not condemn me.

But he does want me to see that this is here so I can repent and be washed.

Not my will, but yours Lord.

Truly there is mercy in many trials, for they reveal the heart’s lack of alignment with our Perfect King.

Do you have an ability, something you are good at?

Do you think others could do it as easily as you, if they just tried harder?

What is missing is the realization that the ability was not due to my greatness, but to God’s gift in designing me that way.

I have a person in my life causing havoc. It triggers me, because if she had been a part of the girls that were used in childhood she would have got at least one of us killed because of her inability to regulate and go numb.

That has made me angry.

I realized today that my ability to be paralyzed on the inside and still do what my perpetrators required externally is not because I could figure out how- it is because God designed me with that ability, to stay alive on the past he chose for me.

A pastor that brought transformation into my my life – by welcoming it into his own-passed away recently.

In his transition he came to stand before me. He asked me to forgive him. I did, not knowing what I was forgiving.

When he was my pastor there was a relational issue that became messy. He felt I handled it the wrong way. Because he thought I should have been able to handle it the way he did.

Now I understand. And today I repent and ask forgiveness from those to whom I have done the same. (If can do it, you can do it- debunked)

My expectations of others came from not realizing that what I do well, I do well because the Lord put it in me to do.

se-lah

I had an interesting experience with a part this week.

I was working with a gal, and we have gone far in discovering her internal world and helping bring reconciliation, internally, and with the Lord.

This week we were working with a part that has a resistance to the Lord.

Sometimes, the areas of resistance yield clues. In this case it was the word ‘widow’. She has opposition to that word being used as a descriptor. Even though she lost her husband. The word is taboo.

We were circling around that, and as I met her eyes, I heard the part think a thought which did not find its way into words.

“That word was a curse included with the other stuff, during their ceremonies.”

I knew what she meant. We had already uncovered stuff done, within the catholic faith exercises, that had been unclean.

So I gently began speaking to my person, explaining that I wanted to ask…

And my person stopped me. She said she wasn’t sure what was going on but the part with resistance was now glaring at me, arms crossed, defiant. I knew the demand was of me to not go there.

Increasing internal breach is never my goal. I stopped. And internally calm was restored.

There is a timing to the revelations of history. The Lord knows all the angles. How much capacity there is, what the week holds, whether denial would be threatened, etc. I trust that.

So for my person, who was now curious about what I was going to say, I just offered the idea that it might be good to not blame self for the resistance, because a lot of times, resistance is based on historical trauma that is not resolved.

I’m so glad the Lord is with me in this work. People are so complex. I would not be able to navigate the intricacies without him.

This month the Lord has asked me to do a fair amount of examining my heart.

We have been going over people that I have worked with, and looking at what I expected to happen, and in certain areas, how I judged God because what I expected and what happened did not match.

Ouch. Whenever I judge God it messes up my alignment with divine time. But sometimes my soul stands up and thinks it has a right to decide. So I have been relinquishing some of my judgments and opinions. Some of them I had to wrestle with for a bit. I had ‘reasons’ why I thought I was right. (that seemed legitimate)

But at the end of my day, my posture is safely found in the beauty of repentance and the safety of his wing. I’m sorry, Lord- is the lovely space where my soul rests and my spirit soars again. Selah.

I was surprised to find I also had judgments about what direction people should have gone, or grown in, or pursued in the Lord after they had worked with me. It reminded me of the early days when I needed control for safety. The unplugging from me, and the righteous plugging into the Lord, along with repentance for the control, has left the structures of life flow around me in a much better place than where I was at the start of the month!

I am once again aligned in divine time. Humility has turned pride on its head, and I am so grateful that the Lord chastens whom he loves.

He loves me. He is my peace.

After the time on Saturday as a class, I went image searching and found no matches for what I want this memorialization to look like. I picture this beauty of me, my ability to see beauty and be beauty, as multi-faceted light.  

Surrounding the light is a castle-like structure that floats in my river. It has lots of windows and doors to refract the light from different angles and through different colors. In the left front, when it is not rotating (yes, it does!) there are insets into the floor of books. But they are not there for the cognitive. They are there to testify of the transformation that came through them. Often they are paired, like how when Father decided Madame Guyon and Mike Bickles Song of Songs should be paired in my life. There is a thin silver tall file that is labeled “my times are His” and it is a record of the timing of Father in my conception, birth and life. There is a set of sails that sometimes resemble flags that soar at the top when Holy Spirit ushers himself into my atmosphere. There is a below decks within this structure so that I can go sit in the deep with Jesus, particularly when I am emotionally intense. He has posters the walls with his memories of me that have delighted his heart and he calls beautiful. There are two ports towards my north that the Lord uses when he sets me on assignments that involve the supernatural. There are two ports towards the south side that are somehow linked to stars. As I have spent time here, it reminds me of the PBS series of videos on string theory, and the whole structure seems to have the ability to fold in or expand out. The sounds come from the back and are always changing but when there is a sound in my external world that matches this internal area I recognize it and am fulfilled by the alignment. There are instruments there I am not fully using yet. There is a kitchen on the deck and it seems that when I prepare food there are elements of creation that add unique spice, smell, and texture to the food. There is a whole floor of this structure that holds bedrooms and it reminds me of a dream I had in 2004, where I lived in a house that had seven bedrooms and that was it.   

What is quite wild is that when I started my healing journey, I had an interior landscape of a castle. It was all doors upon doors upon doors with locks and chains and dungeons and no light. I remember the day when I co-labored with the Lord and he and I blew it up. That was the day he became my peace. 

On one of the floors(not a floor floors) of this structure there is a bridge with a palm tree that is planted where something improperly positioned had previously been. It connects my north side with my south side in an unusual way that embraces the beauty of me. Around that is a gold ring that amplifies out that beauty as a light that helps me see the beauty in others.  

Above that are lines and fabrics with different textures and colors that carry the names, character, and nature of himself that he has revealed to me. So when I am seeing beauty I can match it to the beauty he has shown me of him. 

This memorial will float with me as I move forward in time. It will serve as a testimony and a place of refreshing. It will also weave into my future and be expanded upon over time. I have not yet begun the concrete physical structure on the earth to remind my flesh of this, but so far this has been tremendously fun and I have been reminding myself in the morning and during the day of this place in me that I can see this beauty and call it beautiful, knowing that he did so first, and you all have agreed with him about me.

Some days, I evaluate myself for the sake of refocusing my intentionality. I want to live this life. I don’t want to be reacting my way through it, at the mercy of every emotion and thought.

I do a facebook test. Did I keep track of time while I was scrolling, or was I surprised by how much time I lost? Was I looking at my feed for relational connecting, or was I looking for information? Did I stay connected to Jesus? Did I invite him to chat with me about what I saw, and what formed in me (opinions, judgments, etc.) Did I intentionally look someone up? Were my reasons for doing so clean?

Did I share with others as much as I received from their shares? What did I like and why?

How do my eyegates feel, relative to where they were when I started?

How does my heart feel? What thoughts come after my time? Are they more important or less important?

Am I less intentional and feeling less hope? Am I doing any comparisons? Did I get information that I would not feel comfortable getting in actual conversation with that person?

This can be done for any form of social media. Some seasons I do it once a week. others, once a month.

It’s a gift we have, to self examine. It’s never to condemn or punish.

It is reminding me of my ownership and free will in this life. I get to choose life. I get to choose this reality. I get to choose what I focus on. I get to intentionally plot a path that will lead me more into the Lord, five years from now. And sometimes, this is a great defense against the little foxes that try to devour fruit in the garden of my heart. And often, it chokes out the weeds, the cares of this world, that try to steal life that Jesus has planted.

Selah.

Several months ago, I was on a road trip. I was driving on one of my favorite roads. I was passing a cemetery that is familiar to me. Father has asked me to stop there, over the years, for various pieces of cleansing it needed. On this road trip, there was no prompt to stop. But what I heard the Lord say was- Ask for the promises written on those bones to be resurrected and to have new life.

Hmm. I asked, without understanding. And to further the mystery he said- Isaiah 14:2 is written on the bone of your forearm.

I could not even pretend to understand this mystery. It took me two days to look it up.

Isa 14: [2] And the people shall take them, and bring them to their place: and the house of Israel shall possess them in the land of the LORD for servants and handmaids: and they shall take them captives, whose captives they were; and they shall rule over their oppressors.

What? I don’t want to rule my oppressors. I didn’t understand. but the Lord is truth.

Last week, in the Spirit, I saw one of the perpetrators of my youth. She was talking to Sheol. She was asking what was next, since her body is aged now. I heard the promise of Sheol, that she would be able to come back without a body, when her body had finished. That she would have great assignments and be unencumbered. I knew she would be an earthbound spirit, assigned to keep people from callings and destinies. I was horrified.

The Lord asked me if I was ok with that. I was vehement in my negative response. He asked if I would like to put a marker on the exit of time/entrance into eternity that was her portion. The marker would guarantee she could not re-enter. I did. The marker was placed.

And he said- this is Isaiah 14:2. Your authority will rule over her exit.

I was undone.

My perpetrator knew, of course. She tried to haunt in a dream. But I lucid dream now, and that too was ruling over my oppressor.

And today, praying for Israel, I am asking the same passage with a different application. That Israel would rule over her oppressors.

Surely he makes everything beautiful in its time.

I had a dream recently. In it I was being given a word of knowledge on how to pray for a friend in my life. I knew in the dream, that wherever I focused, whether it was the friend’s head, or knees, or their feet, or the space around them, I would have revelatory knowledge with detail about things going on in their life. I also knew that it was important to only look to where the Lord assigned me to look, and to only get the understanding and detail needed for my prayers to match the intercession of Holy Spirit for them in that moment.

As I looked on myself I noticed that I had feathers and eyes all over me. For this assignment, I knew I was only supposed to keep one pair of eyes open, and to close the rest. It was the first time I had ever thought about my free will in opening or closing my eyes. I practiced a few times, then shut all but one pair.

And the belly of my friend was zoomed in. I could see the belly button, and knew I was viewing it as it had appeared at birth. The unfolding view led me into agreement with what I knew was Father’s heart. That the songs that the four living creatures voiced and the songs of the 24 elders would be remembered and realigned. I blessed the memory of those songs, and of the angels’ light, and of Holy Spirit’s breath, to all travel forward in time to be currently accessible for life and godliness. It was a holy dream.

Since then I have been practicing opening and closing my eyes. I had read in Ephesians about the eyes of my heart. I think different people have different eyes for different views. I think a lot of people have eyes they haven’t opened. And in asking Father which eyes I will need for the day, I am growing in awe over how freely he truly has given us all things. I am contending for believers to be hungry to become all he sees us becoming. And for us all to grow into the character necessary to walk in such weighty things doing justly, loving mercy and walking humbly with our God.

It’s OK to breathe fast if you think you’re going to die.

It’s OK to be swallowed by fear before you remember that the end thereof is death. Even if you don’t remember.

It’s OK that you mucked up and if you could do it again you’d do it differently.

It’s OK that people don’t understand and you can’t change that.

It’s OK to not be able to see the next moment

It’s OK to have Shame even though it’s kind of embarrassing that It had more power than you realized. I still like you.

It’s OK to have a moment of weakness. It does not define the sum of your life.

I see this all over scripture from Adam to David to Peter

And I read in the book of Romans that nothing shall separate me from the love of Christ and if my heart really did not want that separation but my brain could not find another way through, I believe Jesus able of judging my heart.

As an SRA survivor, I had to do terrible things. And the cross of Christ was, is and shall always be enough to wash them all.

It’s okay that you loved but overwhelm made you forget love’s size for a moment.

I remember my day. I was five years into memory work. It was around Easter. I had gone to see my counselor and she had brought reason. If I hadn’t stayed alive, I wouldn’t have Tom my faithful husband. If I had died I would not have had four children I was able to help into life. I heard. It made sense. And when I got home I realized the rational was not enough. 

Jesus came into my living room that day. He stood. I knew it was he. I had run out of words. 

He started. 

Your husband is not enough. 

I shook my head even though I loved my husband. 

He continued. And your kids aren’t enough.

I started to cry because I knew rationally they should be.

An impasse emerged. What I knew was ‘right’ I could no longer do.

Gentle. He said. How about, if for a little while, you try staying alive for me?

It was a thought. A new thought. And a reason I needed.

I don’t know why he doesn’t do that for everyone. Heck. I don’t know why he did it for me. But I’m alive because of it. 

So in the un condemning place of ‘I know those feelings’ I can also say ‘his cross is enough to cover when I have done something irreversible’. 

There is a land of unlearning ahead, that makes a way for the understanding that follows to be beautiful. But on this side, it remains mystery.

praying for a friend tonight, that lost a loved one

During: The fog kisses the mountains and the song of 133 begins and overtakes the day with joy. I am convinced the unity of the brethren is somehow connected. The trees stomp and shout: Praise to God-who-is-water-and-life! The certainty of eternity is bolstered by creation, who knows and does not doubt. The rising of the sun declares futility but NOT WITHOUT HOPE. She remembers again. I’m invited in. What we do today with words we will one day do with light. Create. Rearrange. Align. I participate. With light song. With light dance. Changing and being changed, among some of my favorite mountains.

You are never the same coming out of the twisting winding roads of the mountains and woods as you are going into them. Ask for it. You’ll receive it.

Before: A teaching on intention by the Kurjatas that challenged my comfort zone. We are god-class beings. We are called to created with words. What if?

During: A court case in the heavens. I am designed for this. My interface is fulfilling. Stuff happens and gets done. The elder came along. the visibility of the invisible delights me. And I get to use my giftings. In ways some days don’t require. I rejoice.

After: Fire came. And met me. And said it is not the use but the user. And I have been afraid. Of part of my birthright. And thunder on earth manifests. And fire compels me to study. And starts with its’ relationship/interruption of time. Fire asks me to consider a different likeness to God than other elements. And I am stirred. My concordance is open. My Hebrew comes alive. And I am enthralled with a direction unexpected.

During: Poverty spirit there is no place for you. Assets you are highlighted and recognized. Unanswered questions about my biological father and mother are raised, with curiosity. Questions about the eyes of my heart, which I am learning to close and open, are invitational.

After: Lunches that are missing emotion and filled with pride/agenda/doing feel unsatisfying. And my purpose, what moves me, worship, becomes discontent to settle with reselling somebody elses…anything! And my metron, which is love, urges me to explore more.

During: Highlights of times when I am celebrated and invited to use my gifting bring me joy. Some have seen the deeper parts and welcome me. It is my fuel against those who have opinions and don’t have welcome, only opinions, I learn later.

During: My Father decides, on my anniversary, to dance with me. In the Spirit, in holiness and truth, among the mountains he prepared for the event. I am undone. and more madly in love.

This is my road trip. if you were me, wouldn’t you love them too?