God.

In Him is all. There is nothing that is, that is not from Him. Every life was created, initiated, ordained and sustained by Him. So how can it be that God would create a place like hell?

How would it be if no place was created? How would it be if Satan and the fallen ones were destined to be among us forever, ruling the area they were given and continually, forever plotting for the destruction of man, whom God loves? What would it be like to consider an eternity at war with Beings who are strategic in conceiving to steal…to kill…and to destroy? Would that seem like justice? Would that seem fair? 

Even with the limited and finite understanding we possess, we know intuitively that this fate would be unjust. So many cannot embrace this that they have then chosen to believe there are no such Beings as Satan. The arrogance humanity displays in redefining what is so comfort can be maintained is truly extraordinary. If it doesn‟t make sense to us, it cannot be so. I get stuck in it too.

What about love? Isn‟t love, especially the love of God, enough to cover a multitude of sins? Isn‟t there room for God to correct and forgive in love? 

It is always the first card he plays.

And we get to choose. Think about this for a minute. If there were no invisible Spiritual Beings other than God, and he asked us for our voluntary love, would there be a choice for us other than him?

This is arrogance- to think that because I cannot understand a thing- it must not be God.

This is mercy-that I still exist in spite of my arrogance.

This is love- that he gave all he had, more than I realize, already- so I could go to a beautiful place filled with light and remain with him forever. The cost for this life was not something I could pay. So he paid it for me, regardless of whether I choose him or not. Talk about no strings attached!

Who are we to think that our finite minds could grasp eternal truths in their fullness?  If

God stopped considering me, for a moment, the very fabric of me would disintegrate and

I would be erased. God who created us is God who sustains us. Without the restraint of His Spirit, there would be an invasion of evil into the very air so thick it would make breathing impossible. It would make my ability to contemplate God equally impossible. Forgiveness would not exist. The responsibility alone, for my own imperfections, would burden me and kill hope of spiritual life. 

Here is a lie- that it is pride to believe I am special and created for a unique purpose. It misses the mark to not believe this about me.

I had a vision. God. Sizeless, endless, alive. I saw his hand pull something out of his heart. He fashioned it and placed it on the land. He spoke an extra level of life into it. And there was a journey. That which he shaped moved away…farther and farther, to a certain point. I heard a voice- it said, “this far and no farther”. Then it all became turned and it headed back towards him. When it reached him again it became a part, once more, of his heart. So it is, with all creation, that chooses him. Making other choices makes the path longer and may even change the final destination, but returning to his heart was his blessing for us. He showed me the point when that which he made was the farthest from him. That was time when my heart was the farthest from the knowledge of his love. Where are you in your journey? Are you headed towards him, or headed back? Consider that we have been pulled out and fashioned from the very heart of the uncreated God of all that ever was, or is, or shall be! He knew how hard it would be to make that turn…from leaving to returning in his direction. He knew the enemy would distort sound in the spaces between us. And so he gave us proof that his love remains. His welcome does not end. He offered up something we would recognize. Life. The death would stand as evidence for the days when we are cloudy or confused. What an amazing plan!

We were created to know love. To be love. To become an ever increasing perfect form of love. 

God created a place for our development. Of the people, for the people and by the people. We choose. To continue in the plan of perfection. Or to try to form our own perfection. 

But God could never not love you! You are a part of Him. And he prepared a place for you so you could be with him forever. It is so beautiful that you will be more satisfied than you knew possible. He demonstrated his love for you already. He so loved you that he gave his only son up, to die a tortured death, so that his son could take the sin you could not wash off yourself- his son refused all temptation so he could be the sacrifice for you to have restored relationship with you. He loves you that much!

Love is God. God is love. From him we come, and back to him we will return. The stuff here that happens, it is all part of the transforming work to mature us, so that when we are all one again the glory will be more glorious. He knew we would not be able to do this on our own. God is mercy. And mercy made a way for our reunion with the uncreated glorious God. Our God. His plan is beautiful. Our requirement is that we come to the end of ourselves.And that we yield. And find the peace in yielding that leads us into perfect love. God‟s plan was that we, minute vessels that we are, would be demonstrations of his excellence on the earth. But he is not out to force us. He will not coerce or intimidate. Sometimes people who do not know him fully try those techniques, and it can feel atrocious. But that is their wounds, it is not an accurate representation of him. He is light, and freedom, and love. Unconditional and full. He made a way for us, and then he issued forth the decree that it would only be if we were willing. 

He knew there would be some who went their own way. There will be some who believe that they can find fulfillment in themselves. He understood. And yet, he is mercy. And he recognized that for them to stay in that state of arrogance for eternity especially after seeing they had missed the goodness of love, would be torture. To forever live with the knowledge that you had missed it, to forever be aware that you had denied what is truly good because you thought too highly of yourself, would be an existence of eternal condemnation.

And he knew there would be some who pledged their allegiance to the lesser lights for the power they offered. He knew that some would make the decision to corrupt their own hearts because their souls were more important to satisfy than their spirit was to develop. He saw in advance the regrets they would have on the day when the truth changed the earth. He knew it would be intolerable for them to carry the guilt of knowing they had forfeited love for pettiness. He knew the angers and hate that were harbored in their hearts would do even more destruction if left to continue growth. 

And he knew there would be some who let the fabric of their faith be owned by darkness. There were some who might not consciously go their own way but by letting their fear run them, they gave their allegiance to the opposite of peace ond overcoming victory.

God sees the heart and he will judge justly. Far better than any other man.

I remember a day in the shower. It was before the repressed trauma of childhood had come forth in my life. I was washing and my legs lost their strength. Down I went. The water was hitting my head, and my eyes if I turned my head up. He spoke. He said that I was going to be angry (when I remembered). He said to remember that I am not the judge of the human heart. I did not create them and I was not qualified to know what had built in them to cause them to respond the way they did. He told me vengeance is his. And he said that I was to focus on me, and my responses, and let him take care of the things that were his. 

James, Samuel, my list here?

Because a part of his plan he put into place knowing some would turn from him. In mercy he saw that for those who chose the ways that destroy, it would be intolerable torment for them to remain in that state forever without decay. And so, he allowed sin to enter into Adam and Eve. And when they chose what missed God, decay became a part of the plan. 

In addition he added decay into the ends of those who fall away, too far way, from the heart of their Father. He balanced the expansion and contraction of our world with his plan. For those who choose life and the love that evolves into completion, expansion continues. And for those who choose fear over faith, or darkness, or themselves, because of the futility they will eventually hit, he create a place that contracts. It devolves. Deteriorates. Unravels. Removes itself. Loses connection with the gift of life so that it cannot forever sin against it. Transformation into lower life. Just as it was mercy to remove the eternality from Adam and Eve the moment they sinned, it is the same mercy that recognizes the impossible burden of carrying sin forever without release. And so, as those who live grow from glory to glory, those who do not believe will change, from life to death to lesser death to lesser, until non existence is the final act of mercy that is possible to recognize. 

This is mercy- to make a decision that others may not understand, that others (the very same ones he wants to woo into love) might be offended by- is the risk that love demanded. 

A rescue, from destruction too terrible to bear. Even to the end he is mercy. 

What is your definition of terrible? What is the worst you can imagine? Once hell was created, and the enemy recognized the cost of his defeat, he sought again to counterfeit God. Where God says eye has not seen, nor has ear heard, nor can it enter into the hesart of a man what God has prepared for those who love him, the enemy has, by his own actions, chosen an abode the exact opposite. In opposing God he determined his own fate. And the eternal that used to turn towards life now turns toward death. Perpetually. And without recourse.

It is hard to go to and impossible to leave once you have touched it. 

Most spiritual experiences are like that. 

Doors that are opened you can almost always go through again. 

If you choose.

Most of the time (hopefully, for you) that is desirable; a good thing.

The good places I get to go I want to revisit.

Not this place.

This place I would rather not know exists.

This destroys my ability to rest comfortably in doing what feels good.

This place challenges my assumption that everything will always turn out ok.

The existence of this place pushes against all the denial I would rather have. It is not easy, nor comfortable. 

I would rather know other things…goodness…light…love.

How can I convey with words a place that is so assaulting on so many levels that mere words do not touch the depth of it?

As soon as I begin to write I am there again. 

Perhaps the writing will purge it from me.

Forgive me as I pause.

God. Wash over me. Please. Again. 

The residue fills my senses; my eyes again overflow with involuntary tears.

How much longer, Lord?

Where is redemption here?

I do not understand.

There is no grid this fits upon. I have not heard teaching that comes close to elaborating the immensity of this reality. 

Yet, you are good.

And everything you do has purpose and reason. 

And love.

Will the record of these things touch a human spirit in such a way that change will be experienced?

Is there a plan and a purpose for your glory to be revealed through this writing?

Will this bring me closer to you?

I do not know.

All I know is I must write.

And continue to ask for you to wash. Over me God. Till I can‟t feel anything but you.

Yes.

Your way, not mine.

Your cup is the cup that perfects your work in me.

Oh, that I could always yield. 

No to the things in me that shriek at this. No to those things that would provide an easy way out. This is not a self help book. 

I remember telling a friend once, that I had been to this place. I told him that Beings had taken me there because the Frenchman had offered me to them. The Frenchman believed that if he offered little girls for this purpose, that he would get a predetermined amount of tokens. On the day of his reckoning, those tokens would add moments, even hours, years he hoped, to his time here on earth. My friend has good discernment. He asked me a question. He said who holds the keys to death and hell? How could these Beings have the authority to take me there? I was left with the option of asking Jesus if these experiences were real. I was faced with the risk of asking Jesus if He would show me what hell really was. I love truth. And I could not bear the thought of having experiences in me that I had falsely believed to be true turn out to be illusions…perpetrated by an enemy who is the father of lies. So I asked Jesus to show me what is true. Even if I had to revisit, or even if I had to go to the „real‟ hell so that truth would be in me. 

Time passed. Nothing happened. A year later the Lord spoke on this issue. He said my friend did not understand the reason Jesus has those keys. They are not to keep people from going there. The keys are to lock the door once the final determination has been made on an existence. 

Ah. 

So for me this is true. I believe everyone needs to acquire a specific truth for their journey to be complete. All of us have some common truths. And there is a man whose name is Truth. Beyond that our journeys and the nuggets of truth we need may vary somewhat.  This may or may not be truth for you.

One of the struggles in writing this piece is that I have overcome. The blood, the word of my testimony, and not loving my life unto death has all been a part in helping me lead a victorious life. My relationship with Jesus is exquisite. I have a husband who loves me a lot. I have awesome kids that are growing up without my childhood as their ball and chain. I am in leadership roles in various life areas. I don‟t need to remember any more. I have been validated and I feel legitimized. I have come to terms with who I am, and how God made me. 

Yet there is a prompt. And coming into contact with the memories transcends time again. And I am reminded there are people who do not know, who have not heard. 

Being obedient, without knowing why, is true trust. Perhaps as I grow into truer trust, I will learn the reason I write. Perhaps not. But it is better to obey….

Than to sacrifice.

So I die to live. And lose to gain. And I write.

You there, with the dark hair over your right shoulder….or you with the butterfly top on…you with the earring that covers your ear…I can see you as I write. You are living for the day and you are calling it freedom. I know how exhilarating it is…I used to do it too. You are doing what you want to do and it is fun to be alive. It feels like fullness, enjoying each breath and pleasure, and getting through the rocky places.

Before I remembered, I didn‟t remember.

Each Fourth of July presents itself. Inexorably the clock of time moves forward. And each second rushes away as the tide, with a different second coming to take its place. Until all the seconds have been accounted for. Until it is time. Time for the spirit to leave the body eternally. Time for transition to a new level.

Do you know what happens after that? Do you wonder? What do others say? Where will you be and what will it feel like? Are you hopeful it will be good? Do you have a desire to explore that place Christians call heaven? Is hell real? Do you sort of wish that life was easier because you know you would do better if it was? 

Some Christians make it seem like you have to give up all the things you like and become a fake sort of happy. Hollow. Unreal. 

I‟m sorry. I‟m sorry you were given an impossible ideal with no way to be successful in it. I‟m sorry you got a set of rules you couldn‟t follow. I‟m sorry the image of God was that he is critical, harsh and demanding. I‟m sorry you were expected to follow a boring routine that took spiritual life instead of giving it. What a drag, hey?

Who wants that?

What would you say if I told you that God is mostly happy? What would you say if I told you he wants you to experience the supernatural? And he wants you to succeed in such a way that others look at your life and say wow, if that is being a follower of Jesus he must be good? 

For me, I heard all the stories, but they were just that….stories.

My reality was that I had no evidence of God in my life. My faith in darkness was greater; I had seen more of it. 

People hurt. God seems absent. Nothing good lasts forever. You just have to try to the best you can with what you have. An average, ordinary theology. It had its hopeless moments, but hey, it was better in putting dumb hope into something that would crash and hurt worse.

And the stuff my spirit knew from my previous experiences did not fit on the grid and so it was squished up, good and small, into the recesses of me and my soul, my mind, my heart with a wall, made all the decisions.

It worked for a while. We are wonderfully made to endure and continue.

But I got tired.

And I was headed nowhere.

And I started wondering….what if?  

Is this all there is?

Why am I here?

Stuff like that.

And I allowed myself to remember. The flower shop in the dream. The sink holes. People falling in…screaming. The panic beginning to dominate as more people collectively realized this was an out of control situation that was not going away. And it did not fit on anyone‟s grid. 

As I write I wonder. Why are you reading? What do you believe? Will you have any identification inside of you as you turn these pages? How will you rate me, when you are done? But when it is all said and done…for me those things matter less…than obedience.

As bad as it is, please remember, there is God. And God can save me from this place.

And if He can save me, I know He can save you too. If you choose…

Twenty five years ago I had a dream.

In the dream I was in an office.

It was like a newspaper office.

There was an inner office where the boss was. The upper half of the wall surrounding his office was glass, and I could see him.

It was Saddam Hussein.

I knew I worked for him. 

There was a lot of activity going on.

Scene shifted.

Now I am in a flower shop in the town I grew up in.

There is a rumbling and deep groaning.

Holes start opening up in the floor of the shop.

People are falling in.

There is a sense of justice in the air, something being released that has waited a long time for fulfillment.

I know this is happening all over the earth, as I experience it in this flower shop.

Scene shifts.

I am in hell.  The sounds.

The wailing.

The gnashing.

Oh God, it‟s true.

It‟s terrible. The hatred.

The spew. The hissing and popping.

Oh God. Oh God.

I wake up.

Fully alert. Panicked.

Please don‟t let me go there God.

Whatever it takes, please save me from that place.

And I feel a flow

A spiritual wash

Passing over me

Pouring onto me

Washing off The residue

Of the third scene.

And here I am twenty five years later.

Prologue.

I was the 13^th child of my father.

My father believed that if one did not raise and train his children in the way they should go, then when they grew up they would overthrow him.

When my mom was two months pregnant with me she had realized, three years into the marriage, that my dad was insane. Fanatical. A genius.

She went to see a lawyer about how to extricate herself from my dad.

I had a dream about that once.

In the dream I was with a man and my mommy. There was a rabid dog, a German Shepherd, who was trying to hurt us. Mommy went to someone, the man helped her, and she found out how to have the dog removed. 

Then I saw there was an elephant in our garage. After the dog was gone, the man told me I could tell mommy I saw the elephant now. That she would be ok.

My mommy, in that dream, gave me faith that boundaries could keep bad things away.

When I awoke I knew this had been in the womb. 

Boundaries had been imparted to me in a supernatural way through this experience. I have not had to struggle, as many have, in defining the lines to cross or not cross in relationship. 

Love can cross all lines.

I digress.

So in the middle of the night, when my mom was carrying me in her womb, my dad left. He knew his activities could not bear the scrutiny of the law. He took with him the kids he had brought into this particular union. He also took the baby he had with my mom, the sister who was 22 months older than me. 

But he believed what he believed. Rigidly.

So the dog was not entirely gone. 

I was yet trained in his ways, by him and by others. At night, on weekends, after school.

Every so often they would have me for a few days.

And he brought my sister back when I started school, to make sure I would never tell.

He was good friends with a Frenchman, who was an expert in training.

The training was severe. 

One of my sisters is now institutionalized for life.

Another got involved in a religious cult.

A different sister is in prison, last I heard, for selling her twins and killing her husband.

Two of my siblings have lost their first born to violent death.

The carnage goes on and on.

Sometimes the training involved experiencing things that I was not taught in school. In places that do not show up on a world history map. With Beings who are neither demons nor angels.

There are two types of people who understand, intuitively, quantum mechanics and physics. One group is advanced mathematicians. The other group is children. That was used for their advantage.

When I was a child I saw as a child and spoke as a child. I understood as a child. Yet into my adulthood some of those childhood things have remained, as experiences that shaped me. The language has changed. I can now articulate in a way you may relate to…and I scream less than I used to. 

It is my attempt, in these few pages, to relay a specific set of experiences I had when I was young. 

Just a fragment, in the tapestry of my childhood. 

Chew the meat. Spit out the bones.

You will feed those who oppress me with their own flesh. And they will be drunk with their own blood as though it were sweet wine. All flesh shall know that you Lord, are my Savior, my Redeemer, the Mighty One of Israel.

This is a bungee jump for me, Lord. In my spirit, I know this truth. Their lust and their blindness will devour them. And they will still hunger and thirst as they erode. And they will you see you lift me out, and higher, and they will wail, and gnash their teeth. And through that the truth of who YOU are, will be revealed. They will be face to face with what/there their free will has done/led to them. My soul still has pockets that complain about the time or the cost. The pockets that used to disbelieve are healed. The pockets that shouted- it is not enough- have yielded. Remind me of how perfect your time is, again, Lord! Fix my gaze on what I have with you when I consider what it cost me and my family. Tame me with your kindness. Cover me with your Love. Let me be an example of how faithful you are to rescue and restore your people. Let the earth know you can heal even the brokenest of hearts. So that I might love you more fully. You are my all.

Even the captives of the mighty will be taken, you see.

You have shown me, Lord. Continue to show me.

And the prey of the terrible will be set free.

You are truth. You are freedom. The terrible is nothing compared to who you are.

I will contend with those who contend with thee.

You have, You will. You are. My defender, my strong tower, my refuge in times of trouble.

And I will save your children.

The interpreting of this promise has changed on my end. You have expanded me. This promise, the first I heard clearly in the beginning of the memory season, has kept me. You are faithful, and that you have said, so you will do. And even though the process, and the intimacy it yields, has been uppermost in your heart, you have cared for my need for safety, and have ministered to me in the right was at the right time. I will sing this song forever. Some of the verses I have added may change. And my interpretation may again expand. But the truth of you, as your word, becoming one with me, while I am in skin on the earth, will never end. Even if you never again interfaced, the testimony of what you have done so far will make the elders throw down their crowns again and cry holy for eternity. You are my good pleasure. You are my reward. You are worth it. My heart grows in meditating on you. You are life, and the light of me.

The worship leader was singing a spontaneous song. “look upon the beautiful bloodstained face of Jesus” and as is often the case with me in worship, I had begun to see Him. I was getting ready to immerse in His beauty. It is one of my favorite contemplative places.

He had other plans.

I saw his hand. His hand had the hole where he was nailed to the cross. He superimposed his hand on my hand. I reminded him we were supposed to be looking at his face. He didn’t stop but rather impressed physical weight into this experience. The weight of his arm, of his hand upon mine, alerted me that this was something he really wanted me to note.

So I looked at his hand.

His hand upon mine.

Thoughts of suffering came. How hard it is. Yet necessary. I brought a current situation before him. I shared I could not see the redemption yet. It seemed like just pain. I mentioned I did not know how he was able to do it. To go to the cross. all the way. Stay forward. Endure. And remain whole. It seems impossible in this situation I was bringing. I asked for help. His answer was to show me another aspect of the cross.

He took me back to the garden. The love was so tangible. The peace that permeated the atmosphere surely led to good health. It was beautiful. And I sensed father there. It was like His heart supported all life that was there. And suddenly it was broken. A great wrenching opened a door. Yukky things came through. Things began to change. Deterioration, which had never been known, was now a factor in all life. In this experience what gripped me the most was the tremendous explosion of pain. It was Father’s heart. He was weeping. Such anguish I had never felt. Beyond the waves I have known, this pain seemed to have no crescendo, it kept expanding. Breathing was hard. My throat was so tight. The weight of the experience had tangible tension, I could feel heaven pressing me down. The tears began but there was no articulation that could capture the feelings. I was so overwhelmed. His heart hurt because relationship had been broken. For him it was always about family. It wasn’t that he didn’t know it was coming. it wasn’t that he didn’t know what was ahead. It was the great pain of choices being made that violated love. He knew those choices would lead to death. The closest imagery that comes to mind is if you had a son and you saw him in the moment he was committing suicide. And death was not even the hardest part. It was the separation. The break of the spiritual connection that had existed and made life love. Then he spoke.

‘Jesus was willing to identify with my heart there. Only Jesus could fully share that pain.’

And then I am in the place of revelation, and people are weeping because there was no one worthy to open the scroll. And I know, that Jesus’ willingness to share the Father’s heart over broken relationship, was part of what made him worthy to open the scroll.

I am struck with the understanding that all the tears of everyone everywhere, throughout all of the halls of time, would not be enough to share the pain of my Father, that day, in the garden. And Jesus not only identified, but he offered himself, to bring reconciliation to the creature that was too immature to understand, and to ease His Father’s heart.

The revelation still feels too big for me.

He  spoke again. ‘Until you identify with my heart, until you let it be your motivation, there is mixture in your agenda.’

I know the only way to identify with his heart is through his son.

I am broken.

The intensity has gripped me in a way I cannot word.

I had not known, or thought about, his sorrow.

What else can my response be?

Father, let my heart do nothing, without identifying with yours. Cleanse my agenda.

I only want to do what I see you doing. Let your love be my reason.

Teach me how to love.

Selah.

You say- You will raise up your hand to nations, and lift your ensign to peoples. They will bring our sons in their bosoms, and carry our daughters on their backs.

How small we are Lord, to focus on a single life as the sum of what you intend for us. How large you are, oh God, to consider birthrights and offices, giftings and legacies!

Kings shall tend to our children, their queens shall serve as our nurses. They will bow, face down, and lick dust off our feet. And we will know you are the Lord. Those who trust in you will not be shamed.

How wise you are, Father, to highlight authority and royalty. For we are your chosen ones, your matchless Bride. And since there is none like you, there shall also be none like us, as we are raised up in you to be yours forever. I consider the following passage, your first promise to me when the terrors were remembered. Enduring a minute was more than I could bear. The big picture of it was meaningless to me. But surely you make everything beautiful in its time. I am not fully in the big picture yet. But your work in me is perfect, and you are faithful to complete it.

My sons will be quickly regathered. Those that ravaged and ruined me will leave. As I look I will see, you will assemble, you will remove.

I know that this is partly in transition, the final exit of this age. You are warring for my heart to receive the truth of it now. You ask me to believe more than my eyes can see. You ask me to trust you as truth without being bound to my interpretation.

I will don them like jewels and deck myself with them like a Bride.

I believe. help my unbelief. because it so isn’t about you doing it, but about my receiving it. For your glory. recognizing that it is good. And right.

As for my ruined and desolate places, and the land of me laid waste, I will be crowded with settlers and destroyers will stay far from me.

How can I not weep? How can I not be prostate before you? So you have said. So you shall do. I am astonished again. I bear your name on the earth.

The children I thought I had lost will say, as I hear them-its too crowded- make room for me too. In my heart I will wonder-who bore these for me, when I was bereaved and barren? When exile and disdain were all I knew, who taught them the way in which they should go? I was alone, and now they are here.

Those years, Lord. Just choosing each day who I would serve. That craziness, God, of the unthinkable becoming my reality. Few know. All would have crossed the road and passed me by. Not you. Make yourself known through what you have transformed me into, Lord. Shine your light on any agenda or pride that boasts of me, that I might kill it quickly. Be famous through me as I carry your name. For your name. And for your glory.

They are coming from afar-from north and west and Sinim. Shout, heavens! Rejoice, earth! Break into shouting, hills! For the Lord has comforted his people, He is taking back his afflicted ones in love.

I love your gathering Lord. The joy of creation resounds in me! Your kindness and your love, being so readily available, even to those who in their affliction went their own way. Your comfort has made me safe. Your love is my hope.

Zion said you had forsaken her. Forgotten her.

Surely that was what you endured when you cried out from the cross to your dad. Surely you bore it on yourself so that you could be the one who sees every nuance of our heart.

Can a woman forget her baby? Disown the child of her womb? Though she might forget, you will never forget. You have engraved me on the palm of your hand. My walls are ever before you.

You only bring up the pain to apply the comfort, my Lord. I let go of the pain and there you are with my name on your hand again. You are so intimately familiar with all of my ways. You know the foundation of my thought and beliefs and foundations. You know the emotional structure of my heart. You know the fight or flight of my gut. You know how much of heaven’s truth I remember. You know the portal of my heart. You know the sockets of my joints, and the light of my bones. You are altogether trustworthy in your leadership of me. I bow. I rest.

In an hour of favor you will answer me. In a day of salvation you help me. You created me and appointed me for covenant with your people. You are the one who put restoration of the land in my heart. You take the the desolate holdings and allot them anew.

Surely every time I hear you is favor. Surely every time I experience you I become more saved (sozo)- healed, delivered and whole. The desires you have placed in me are your wisdom. You make everything beautiful in its time. I am part of that promise. I am in awe over how you have changed the land of my heart.

You say to the prisoners Go Free. You say to those in darkness Show Yourselves. You create pastures for them along the roads, and even on the bare hills.

Your word, Oh God is a light unto my path. Surely every time I come into alignment with your word I become more free. Every time I risk believing your truth I become more light. And along the way, your food for me is timely and appropriate for where I am on my journey. And I stop, and receive, you become rest for my soul.

I shall not hunger or thirst. Hot wind and sun will not strike me. You, who loves me, will lead me. You will guide me to a spring of water.

Thank you for not leaving me in the small definitions of my human existence in these words. Thank you for knowing my intimate details while being mindful of the larger version of me in eternity. You settle my hunger. You slake my thirst. You protect me from the elementals. You are not dismayed by my fear, or shrinking back. You are not stopped by my misinterpretations or cautions or lies. You know my spring. You know that when the joy has come, the weeping of the night will be seen differently.

You will make all your mountains a road. You will build up your highways.

You create the path to perfect me. Intentionally. In love. Yours is the glory Lord. I will follow where you lead me.