Author: Mariah Knefely

If you can only see my net worth, then you won’t know about my inheritance of gold paved streets or the abundance of grace won at Calvary.

If you can only see the lines on my face, then you won’t know about the long hard roads where Jesus met me in the dark and put light unto my path.

If you can only see the grey in my hair, then you won’t see my pain and my sorrows nestled in the hands of the Father, where Holy Spirit hovers, bringing me into joy.

If you can only see my sin, then you’ve missed my salvation and the power of repentance before a forgiving God.

If you can only see my failures, then you won’t know of His loving corrections, nor understand the path to righteousness.

If you can only see the outside, then you’ve missed the resurrection inside, boasting of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit.

If you can only see the grave, you won’t see my life rich with God’s mercy and grace, saved by the ransom of Christ.

But, if you can see me as a daughter of the Most High, a priestess in the Kingdom of Heaven, a warrior and a precious one, made in the image of perfection; you have seen the reflection of God’s grace inside of me. You’ve seen my life, riddled with flaws and overcome by faith.

In this faith walk, the lowly are elevated and the upright bow. Look beyond the surface to find the truth. Not all we see is what it seems…

Make me know Your ways, Lord; teach me Your paths. Lead me in Your truth and teach me, for You are the God of my salvation; for You I wait all the day. Remember, Lord, Your compassion and Your faithfulness, for they have been from of old. Do not remember the sins of my youth or my wrongdoings; Remember me according to Your faithfulness, For Your goodness’ sake, Lord. Psalm 25:4-7

Those eyes
Who have resisted the view of their soul
Whose lens can focus only through its own key hole
Those eyes
Who have been shaped to know only of earthly things, building wealth and stacking rings
Who lose sight of the greatest king
Those eyes
Who see to justify and refuse to understand
Who build naught upon the rock, but revel in their structures on the sand
Those eyes
Who no longer seek the King of kings
Who settle for inferior things
But, Oh,
Those eyes
Who perceive and know
Who watch but do not champion the spectacle or the show
Those eyes
Who seek God above all else
Who humbly submit and die to self
Who live reverently before the Light
Who seek Him with all their might
Those eyes
Who visualize the Throne Room
Who know our precious King is coming soon
Those eyes Who know the sacred and ancient ways
Who live and cry Holy for all of their days
Those eyes
Who see themselves adorned in white
Who wait, prepared like maidens in lamplight
Those eyes
Who see the glory of His Majesty
Who will live in peace for all eternity
Those are the eyes that will see His face.

Only be careful for yourself and watch over your soul diligently, so that you do not forget the things which your eyes have seen and they do not depart from your heart all the days of your life; but make them known to your sons and your grandsons. Deuteronomy 4:9

We sat around the fire, silent in reflection, anticipating the new road before us. The unknown. The turning point. The moment of truth. We were emptyhanded and yearned for something we could do, to further prepare ourselves for the journey. There was nothing more that could be done. Our supplies were readied and our hearts full of reverent courage. Our guide, who had traversed the trail countless times, explained the next leg of our quest while referencing days of old and biblical times.

Noah built a boat from an abundance of faith and obedience, while he was mocked by the masses. When it started to rain, Noah and his family started their next chapter. Moses led God’s people across a divided sea, and through a desert where everything was handed to them, their food outside their tents each day and their clothes were never threadbare. Their turning point was at the Jordan where the courageous inherited the promised land and those lacking in faith never crossed over.

For you my friends, God’s remnant, you have a different journey in store. The Lord said, “It will come about after this that I will pour out My Spirit on all mankind; and your sons and daughters will prophesy, your old men will dream dreams your young men will see visions.”[1] This my friends is a different type of exodus. You are being called to live on the wings of your faith. You will be living without the protections of man, upon which you have so long relied. You will leave the four walls and you will be among the dead and through your prophetic decrees you will plant seeds of righteousness into the dead so they might become among the living. You will move out from your silence, from your fear of reproach, from intimidation.

God has released, through His grace, the power and the strength and the fortitude for this new era. He has been training you for this day since you first tasted the milk of the word.[2] Since we have gifts that differ according to the grace given to us, each of us is to exercise them accordingly: if prophecy, according to the proportion of his faith; if service, in his serving; or he who teaches, in his teaching, or he who exhorts, in his exhortation; he who gives, with liberality, he who leads, with diligence; he who shows mercy with cheerfulness.[3] Your faith and these precious gifts will be your manna in the desert.

If I may offer advice before we move onto the trail, it is this: I urge you, brothers, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies a living and holy sacrifice, acceptable to God, which is your spiritual service of worship. And do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind, so that you may prove what the will of God is, that which is good and acceptable and perfect.[4] Let love be without hypocrisy. Abhor what is evil; cling to what is good. Be devoted to one another in brotherly love; give preference to one another in honor; not lagging behind in diligence, fervent in spirit, serving the Lord; rejoicing in hope, persevering in tribulation, devoted to prayer, contributing to the needs of the saints, practicing hospitality. Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse. Rejoice with those who rejoice, and weep with those who weep. Be of the same mind toward one another; do not be haughty in mind, but associate with the lowly. Do not be wise in your own estimation. Never pay back evil for evil to anyone. Respect what is right in the sight of all men. If possible, so far as it depends on you, be at peace with all men. Never take your own revenge, beloved, but leave room for the wrath of God for it is written, “VENGEANCE IS MINE, I WILL REPAY,” says the Lord. “BUT IF YOUR ENEMY IS HUNGRY, FEED HIM, AND IF HE IS THIRSTY, GIVE HIM A DRINK; FOR IN DOING SO YOU WILL HEAP BURNING COALS ON HIS HEAD.” Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.[5]

You will meet false witnesses along the way. Beloved, do not believe every spirit, but test the spirits to see whether they are from God, because many false prophets have gone out into the world.[6] You will know them by their lack of fruit or their fruit will be rotten, unable to germinate new life. Continue moving forward. Do not become distracted and overcome by what you pass by. Only be strong and very courageous; be careful to do according to the law which Moses My servant commanded you; do not turn from it to the right or to the left, so that you might have success wherever you go.[7] Your perseverance during these troubled times depends on this.

If there is anything you trust more than God, eliminate it and seek forgiveness: self-reliance, money, position, political spirit, manipulation, popular opinion, worldly knowledge, your own cunning, profession, lofty thoughts. Only God has the power to take you to the next phase of your journey. Fascination with lesser powers will keep you from advancing. To you it was shown that you might know that the Lord, He is God; there is no other besides Him.[8]

Seek spiritual and mental chastity and refinement. Discipline yourself for the purpose of godliness; for bodily discipline is only of little profit, but godliness is profitable for all things, since it holds promise for the present life and also for the life to come.[9]

Be ready. Be ready. Be ready. Those who were ready went in with Him to the wedding feast; and the door was shut.[10] Be on the alert then, for you do not know the day nor the hour.[11] Work out your salvation with fear and trembling.[12]

And Jesus said: “Behold, I am coming quickly, and My reward is with Me, to render to every man what he has done. I am the Alpha and the Omega, the first and the last, the beginning and the end.” Blessed are those who wash their robes, so that they may have the right to the tree of life and may enter by the gates into the city.[13]

After speaking those words, the trail guide rose from his place around the fire and took rest, for the long enduring road was before him.

---

[1] Joel 2:28

[2] 1 Peter 2:2

[3] Romans 12:6-8

[4] Romans 12:1-2

[5] Romans 12:9-21

[6] 1 John 4:1

[7] Joshua 1:7

[8] Deuteronomy 4:35

[9] 1 Timothy 4:7-8

[10] Matthew 25:10

[11] Matthew 25:12

[12] Philippians 2:12

[13] Revelation 22:12-14

I have never painted stars into the night;

Fires of heaven burning bright.

I have never added feathers to a hen;

Nor have any other men.

I have never created a stone;

But God did, all on His own.

I have never trilled a sparrow’s song;

But for our Father, it didn’t take long.

I have never known a greater love;

Designed by our Father from above.

And if I ever try to boast;

I will remember my precious Host.

Of all the gifts He has given to me;

His precious Son to set me free.

So that I, with all my plights;

Will see and praise Him through the night.

And if this all was not enough;

His Spirit dwells within each of us.

My heart now filled and shining bright;

Like the moon, filled with God’s Light.

The Spirit of Life descended upon the mud brick city. He flooded the adobe dwelling places, passing through every surface, until he reached the one He sought. Nothing was untouched. When He saw the man hiding in the cathedral he was bowed down to fear. Demons danced around his head, delighting in the forbidden territory. Without hesitation, the Breath of the Almighty wrapped the man in a blanketed cocoon of white. The sound of humming and buzzing could be heard as lie after lie was pushed out by the Hornet. In an instant, the man was suspended in warmth. The Spirit of Truth held commandments and promises before the man, and the man saw with his heart without shame. Unable to turn to the right or to the left, he received the Eternal Spirit and watched as He restored the ancient boundaries.

Far away, the vision unfolded before a woman and her heart was overcome by the Holy Spirit of God. She obeyed His prompting. With tears flooding her eyes she cried out for the man and partnered with God to go after this soul and battle for his salvation. The cries of war raged in her ears and she joined in, shouting declarations and His mighty decrees, reminding the God of Promises of His perfect nature in that what He says will always come to pass. She watched as an unmanned sword passed through the enemy, who bowed low before falling to the ground. The sounds of battle ceased and her tears became dry. She took in a breath and knew from the Spirit of Counsel and Might that the Power of the Highest prevailed and for a moment she saw earth as it is in heaven.

The man was set down from his cocoon and marveled at the Glory of God that filled the room. Finally free from his tormentors, true knowledge and fear of the Lord filled the man. His ears heard and his eyes could see and the folly in his heart had been removed.

The promises of God are everlasting, ever reaching, ever compelling, ever teaching, ever saving, ever seeking. When the faithful rise up in partnership with God, joining in one heart and one mind, our Father demonstrates who He is. The God of Righteousness fulfills all of His promises.

I surveyed the canyon spread out before me. A canvas revealing the dimensions of time, etched by the ancient brushstrokes of water uncontained. Its unyielding force carves as it cascades to the lowest and most hidden surface, where it pools and gathers before pressing beyond and traveling to the deep places no one knows.

In the beginning, the Spirit of God was moving over the surface of the waters. Hundreds of years later the earth was once again covered by water and it was over those waters, that the dove once again flew. This time, the waters held Noah and his family, carrying Christ’s bloodline, by way of the ark. Moses was drawn out of the water and positioned to lead God’s people from captivity through the Red Sea and to the banks of the Jordan. It was Joshua who led the people and the Ark of the Covenant through the Jordan to the land God had first promised to Abraham. It was within the Ark of the Covenant that God required all who approached the altar to first pass through the water. Jesus came up from the water; and behold, the heavens were opened, and the Spirit of God was seen descending as a dove and lighting on Him, and behold, a voice out of the heavens said, “This is My beloved Son, in whom I am well-pleased.”[1]

It is through the water that places unseen are made new and hidden crevices are exposed to the Light. It is where we are completed and fortified for our appointed journey. Just like the canyon, my heart was carved into a new creation as I passed through His river of grace. It is that grace that breathes power into our purpose. I can’t help but see the rugged canyon transposed over my core, where the valley of my monuments attest to what was and what is and what will surely be. Sculptures of rugged beauty, where barren land once stood.

[1] Matthew 3:16-17

From a heavenly perspective, morning is continual and without ceasing. Inch by inch, light adorns the earth. The melodies of dawn are a cadence in the heart of God. The birds’ joyful songs ring through the air. Grass, like violins of the field, trill in perfect vibration by the bow of His breath. Leaves clap out the soft rhythm of the day. Water rushes anew. Flower petals softly groan and unfold as His words give light[1]. The world is firmly established, it will not be moved.[2]  Therefore I have hope. The Lord’s lovingkindnesses indeed never cease, for His compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is His faithfulness.[3] His mercies transcend the curve of the earth with the same intentional order as morning’s light. His Light is ever present, casting out darkness. As nature fulfills its purpose, so do I, guided by His Spirit. His eyes have seen my unformed substance; and in His book they were all written, the days that were ordained for me, before one of them came into existence.[4] I radiated His design from the beginning, planned, wanted, cherished. So perfectly understood and loved that I am known by the intricate scent of my prayers. I am a daughter of Light because I have believed in the Light.[5] He has done all of this for me. Upon whom does His Light not rise?[6]

Jesus spoke to the people once more and said, “I am the Light of the world; he who follows Me will not walk in the darkness, but will have the Light of life.” John 8:12

[1] Psalm 119:130

[2] 1 Chronicles 16-30, Psalm 93:1, Psalm 96-10

[3] Lamentations 3:23

[4] Psalm 139:16

[5] John 12:36

[6] Job 25:3

 

As I looked beyond myself I saw a horizon. I watched it become divided and appear as a line of particles. Just beyond the perforated line, a new horizon rose up from the sea. It became apparent to me that the first horizon was the Law that only the Son of Heaven could fulfill. The second horizon was Grace, a complete and perfect destiny, covering that which we could not perfect on our own. The first covenant overcome by the second covenant. As that permeated my spirit, a third and wondrous horizon was pressed down from the heavens. This horizon told of what is yet to come.

And He who sits on the throne said, “Behold, I am making all things new. It is done. I am the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end. I will give to the one who thirsts from the spring of the water of life without cost. He who overcomes will inherit these things, and I will be his God and he will be My son.”[1]

 

[1] Revelation 21:5-7

 

I slept among the dead, laid scattered in the valley of dry bones, tossed by wind, scorched and bleached by the sun. The valley grave was filled with so many bones and we were very dry.[1]  We were laid waste in the wilderness, unable to progress, falling deeper into unbelief. Divided kingdoms, divided nations, divided minds. A valley of despair, absent of hope.

We had walked in miracles but our eyes were closed. We had walked through the sea, between walls of water, and remained dry. Each morning we received God’s provision outside our tents; and though we ate it, we were not filled. We did not receive Your Good Spirit who instructed us[2] nor did we eat that which proceed out of the mouth of the Lord.[3] We drank the water You gave us but only allowed it to quench our thirst.[4] We remained dry and faithless. You clothed us like the lilies of the field[5] but we ignored the provision and worried for tomorrow.[6] We sought naught Your Kingdom nor Your righteousness[7] and scattered our faith to the four corners of the earth.[8] The punishment for our iniquity rested on our bones[9].

“O dry bones, hear the word of the Lord.”[10] Tired of the silence of the grave, I listened, and the words continued to be spoken over me. “Behold, I will cause breath to enter you that you may come to life. I will put sinews on you, make flesh grow back on you, cover you with skin and put breath in you that you may come alive; and you will know that I am the Lord.[11]” I then heard noise from within me and all around me and I began to shake and rattle as my bones came together, bone to its bone.[12] And I looked, and behold sinews were on them, and flesh grew and skin covered them; but there was no breath in me.[13] “Come from the four winds, O breath, and breathe on these slain, that they come to life.”[14] I received breath and life and stood on my feet and I became an exceedingly great army.[15]

It was then that I understood our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the powers, against the world forces of this darkness, against the spiritual forces of wickedness in the heavenly places.[16] My faith came through hearing the words of the Lord. Through faith, I was resurrected from my grave. In my place, I left behind hopelessness, despair and fear. I then took up the full armor of God, girding my loins with truth and wore the breastplate of righteousness. The shoes on my feet were designed for the preparation of the gospel of peace. I took up the shield of faith which holds the power to extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one. Upon my head, the helmet of salvation, and at my side, the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God.[17] I served in the army of peace and lived with incorruptible love.[18]

 

[1] Ezekiel 37:2

[2] Nehemiah 9:20

[3] Deuteronomy 8:3

[4] Nehemiah 9:20

[5] Matthew 6:27

[6] Matthew 6:30

[7] Matthew 6:32

[8] Isaiah 11:12

[9] Ezekiel 32:27

[10] Ezekiel 37:4

[11] Ezekiel 37:5

[12] Ezekiel 37:5

[13] Ezekiel

[14] Ezekiel 37:9

[15] Ezekiel 37:10

[16] Ephesians 6:12

[17] Ephesians 6:14

[18] Ephesians 6:24

A few months ago, we had several loads of dirt delivered to the farm to continue the existing berm down the balance of our property. We plan to use the dirt to protect our land from future flooding. We haven’t relocated the dirt and the mounds have turned green from the abundance of sun and rain. It was on my afternoon walk that I first noticed our accidental harvest. The dirt mounds were dotted with red, orange and green cherry tomatoes. The unexpected sight whispered to me, “This is your accidental harvest.” Each day, for weeks, I’ve taken my daily walk and gathered the ripening tomatoes and pondered the words “accidental harvest” asking God what they meant. I shifted my lens from the physical to the spiritual and my mind opened and my heart received God’s message.

It is in the fortification of our spiritual walls that we receive the gifts of the spirit. As we began the process of shoring up our land, our chosen tool, dirt, has produced gifts. These gifts did not come from works or my labor or from performance, they were unplanned and unearned, like the gifting from our Father. They came to us through grace, purposed for our unique and personal growth and the edification of the church. No gift of the spirit can be earned.

We have gathered so many tomatoes it has created a lifestyle change in that we are no longer purchasing tomatoes.  The gifts have also opened up those few “tomato” dollars each week for other purchases, creating an impact, in the physical, that stretches beyond our home. Our lifestyle was changed from purchasing, through earned income, to gathering, like God’s gift of manna in the wilderness. The gifts have a ripple of impact. The testimony of God’s provision is shared with our friends and those who visit with us. Through God’s heavenly design, these gifts will ultimately impact the nations.

Our salvation is a miracle. We receive that miracle and become it. A rebirth and renewing that defies logic and activates faith. These tomatoes are tangible reminders of God’s endless gifts, bringing to me even greater revelation of the Garden. God created us with His breath, gave us life through sacrifice and sustained us through His gifts of grace. The power of death on the cross and the miraculous resurrection, which defeated sin and ended the curse on humanity, has changed the course of history. We no longer have to look upon the Garden by way of glimpses through the keyhole. It was unlocked and made available to us. We are once again able to walk with God, in the cool of the day, and hear His voice and receive His harvest.

The harvest is plentiful, but the workers are few. Therefore beseech the Lord of the harvest to send out workers into His harvest. Matthew 9:37-38

In the depths of a thicket, where branches entwine and cast out light; there lived my cross. A monument to my failure, stored in a hiding place fed by regret. The cavern of the bramble was so dark it daily robbed the dawn of light and all I could ever see was the rotting wood of my life filled with the holes of my choices. As I looked on, the sea rose up and covered me to my knees. It washed away as quickly as it had arrived. Salt, the remnant, caused the thicket to wither and sink into the earth. And there I was, standing in an empty field, before my cross. As the sun rose behind it, the holes of my cross illuminated with the light of His Glory, covering my transgressions and transforming them in perfect light. In place of the scars to my past there were new pathways into my present and my future. The past burned away with the warmth of grace, filling today with light and hope. No longer the mess but a masterpiece. As I knelt in wonderment, I no longer saw the failures and the fear, my eyes opened to righteousness and the Kingdom of Heaven. The light, as it pushed through the holes, placed thousands of tiny spotlights on me and in that moment I understood my value. I am worth everything to Him in spite of the sins of the world that I lashed onto His back and the spit I hurled into His face and the crown of mockery I pushed into His temples and the holy separation I caused. For whom does a King suffer and die? He dies for the lost and the broken and the lonely and the torn. He died for me.

 

Carved and sculpted from the dust of new earth, created in the image of perfection. Empty, until living breath was expelled into my lungs, the scent of God, so potent, completely consumed. Gazing up, I knew love. In the east, He planted a garden, placed me there and through me diffused the fragrance of His knowledge in every place. From the same parcel of earth, I watched as He formed every beast and every bird. Seeing with eyes closed to the knowledge of evil, perceiving through a Kingdom lens; I named each one.

The soil beneath my feet was of the finest loam, untrodden and receiving its first steps. Its scent rivaled any tilled field and sang of victory, while trees extended themselves firmly into its depths. The roots screamed their excitement as they plunged into the darkness beneath them. The flowers shot forth from the earth like arrows and the leaves pressed upward. An unmatched cadence in the rhythms of heavenly design.

The Spirit of God fell about creation like silken mist, filled with His hosts, doing His pleasure, carrying hued illuminations of grace from His Presence. I observed as every good gift and every perfect gift came down from the Father of lights, from whom there is no variation or shadow of turning. Intertwined with flying birds and insects, the sky was alive with life. The sound of buzzing became overwhelming and it was then that I saw the primordial hive, crocheted and suspended from a tree. It was not a quiet beast and in my observing and perceiving understood this to be unique, outlaid by the Creator.

The life that was, and continues to be, are designs of heavenly proportion. It was as if God’s thumbprint could be found, pressed into the warm wax. The very structure, demonstrating His pattern for His people. Blueprints from the Kingdom of Heaven in each cell. I saw a glimpse of His perfection in this complex design of order, for those who have yet to be. Three roles etched into humanity, those who believe, those who teach and those who prophecy. All three, working in unison, for the survival of the colony.

The hive shimmered with the constant motion from the bees. There were guards at the entrance discerning His people. Believer bees moved to and fro, foraging for themselves and the church. Instinctively, the believers fed the babes on the sweet Truth and sustenance from the Word of God, nectar to their souls. Through time and experience, and in a new place of maturity, believers produced a waxy substance, a testimony to their character, the building material of faith. It is within the testimony that life is formed, the young develop, new believers grow and the abundance of honeyed grace is stored and preserved, for such a time as this. Bees consume nectar, pollen and honey just like I consume Truth, His Word and Grace. As a result, the very foundations of the church are formed.

Gazing deeper into the hive, I saw the teacher, the leader. Dependent upon the goodness of the believers and the sanctity of the blueprint, the teacher guides and directs the church. Ministering to the young and the old, reaching out and leaving daily footprints as an expression of care and kindness. Responsible for the condition of the church and hosting the Presence, the supernatural communion is timeless. Huddling together, the believers use their own body heat and shiver the atmosphere into place; each understanding the absence of the Presence is the certain loss of generations to come.

And it shall be in the last days that I will pour forth of My Spirit on all mankind; and your sons and your daughters shall prophecy, and your young men shall see visions, and your old men shall dream dreams. Prophecy is a sign, not to unbelievers but to those who believe. For no prophecy was ever made by an act of human will, but men moved by the Holy Spirit speaking from God. The bee prophets are cared for and fed by believers who have faith, that at the appropriate time, the prophets will impregnate the church with revelation, stimulating the birth of new believers and encouraging the remnant. When the time is right, they depart the hive, accompanying a future leader, to form a new church colony. And so, the hive is immortal, self-extending from the first garden to the place you are today.

While the kingdom of God is not eating and drinking, I could not resist tasting the honey that cascaded before me. For the first time, I tasted righteousness and peace and joy in the Holy Spirit. It was through these fruits that I understood that he, who in this way serves Christ, is acceptable to God and approved by men. The map of the Presence etched within the combs of grace.

God then took my hand, and as we walked together, we searched the garden for a suitable helper, another believer, to help me perpetuate the hive.

If you dilute coffee enough, you can’t call it coffee anymore. And with the dilution, the effects of the coffee are no longer. Why would the coffee drinker spend any time with the diluted drink if it is missing all of the qualities of coffee? It becomes easy for the coffee drinker to forget about it altogether because the substance is missing. Likewise, if you extract the Truth from the Great I Am, what is left but a reflection of a god who suits our purpose and justifies our choices? We’ve transformed and miss our own critical transformation. My standard falls so short of holiness; I would never want that diluted drink. I crave the qualities of Him, and through faith and obedience and a LARGE dose of grace, I want the coffee straight up and unencumbered with me.

As I look over the farm, receiving the sun as it warms my soul, there is a small window of time where gems from the Creator are made seen. In a world where more is unseen than what we can perceive with our eyes, these moments of clarity are so precious. Looking to the east, after a night of rain and waking to a cloudless sky, each leaf sparkled as if diamonds were placed there overnight. Adorned and singing of God’s renewing mercies are the plants, how much more will He do for His bride? Free from blemish, we stand before Him, clothed in white linen, our transgressions forgiven and our history rewritten. During this time of perfect alignment of sun and raindrops, with what precious stones and secret keepsakes has our God graced you? What do you radiate? What story do you tell of Him and His mercy and His forgiveness? It is in the telling and in the seeing that believers believe and the brokenhearted have hope. Every tree on the farm was tested and tried which resulted in them growing in size and strength, towering giants. The rings inside the trunk of each tree tell of their perseverance and the battles in which they overcame death and destruction. Those trials become the very fiber of who we are. What would your core sample tell us? You’re still standing, you’re still fighting, you haven’t given up. Your story produces God’s gems. Stand in the sun and let God’s light illuminate your story and captivate souls.

I waked alone in the fields after the fire. Soot and tears stained my face. If I stopped walking I was convinced I would die.  I was alone for the first time in my life, eight years of overalls and mud pies. When I couldn’t walk any further, I punched the closest tree. My bloodied hand beat the ground and I cried until I slept. It was a deep and tormented sleep, with the faces of my family mixed in with the flames that stole my whole world. I woke up seeing embers and smelling smoke. The dirt was replaced by a blanket and I slept again, deeper and more soundly. Quiet and stillness woke me. I was not where I had been. Mud brick walls surrounded me and the smell of pork frying filled my nose. A man across the room smiled and I recoiled. He set the table for one and left me alone. The pain in my stomach grew and I stole that supper he left behind. As I was sopping up my plate, the door opened and the man spoke to me. “Son, I’m Judd. Tomorrow is a new day. Get some rest.”

I woke up to the chill of morning circling my back. The sun was shining through the open door and I stepped outside. Judd said, “Mornin’. You know, the Promised Land is on the other side of this.” I agreed but I didn’t understand his meaning. He sent me to the river to wash up and I watched for the Promised Land he had talked about. Nice clean water, but the land wasn’t promised to me.

Returning from my swim, Judd let me know I could stay but I would have to work. Thankful someone would watch out for me, I began to rattle off the chores I knew. “I can mend a fence. I can clean stalls. I can feed your animals. I can chop wood.” Judd handed me a broom. This was work my sisters did back home. Nothing a man couldn’t handle, I thought. I picked up the broom and swept so hard, I kicked up dust in the air and sent it flying all over the one room pueblo. I made a mess of things. When Judd came back for lunch, he choked on the air, smiled and handed me a rag. I got straight to it.

The next day he asked me to collect kindling. I made close to twenty trips to the woods, returning with handfuls of kindling. At the end of the day, Judd pointed to his wheelbarrow and said, “Son, you worked hard. That wheelbarrow can help you work smart.” When he collected the sticks to start the fire, he could feel they were wet but set them in the cook area anyway. Judd asked me to start the fire. I tried all of the ways I knew to start the fire but all we got was smoke.

And so it went on, day in and day out. Years of hard work. Failure. Strength. Judd was measuring me. He was seeing where my thinking and my work ethic were broken and then he revealed it to me. Judd never shamed me but corrected me. He was helping me build my house. He rooted out all of the fractures in my foundation so it could stand the weight of the glory he knew I was promised. Glory has a way of cracking weak hulls, but it also has a way of causing established roots to grow deep. He knew about my promise because he understood God’s pattern of goodness and he recognized my roots needed some lengthening.

Each time we walk through pain and suffering, there is a Promised Land on the other side. I couldn’t reach the Promised Land until the prosperity of my soul lined up with my inheritance. That character is gained through the righteous choices we make, minute by minute, the small stuff and the big stuff. And, when our souls gain maturity, and wisdom encircles us, our external blessings strengthen us and do not cause us to break. We can walk out of slavery into promises.

The day I put Judd in the ground broke my heart. I grieved him like no one else. He left me his leather bound ranch book, where he routinely wrote his notes. The first page captured his favorite Psalm and he underlined some of the words. The Lord is the portion of my inheritance and my cup; You support my lot. The lines have fallen to me in pleasant places; indeed, my heritage is beautiful to me. I will bless the Lord who has counseled me; indeed, my mind instructs me in the night. I have set the Lord continually before me; because He is at my right hand, I will not be shaken. Therefore my heart is glad and my glory rejoices; my flesh also will dwell securely…You will make known to me the path of life; in Your presence is fullness of joy; in Your right hand there are pleasures forever.

Under the Psalm he had written me a note: Son, your inheritance of greatest value is the Lord. Only in His presence will you have fullness of joy. Keep the Lord in your right hand and you will be the pleasures in His right hand. The only way for each of you to be in the other’s right hand is to stand face to face and hold hands with your Maker. Your spiritual inheritance is my greatest joy. You don’t know it yet, but like David in the Psalm, the lines have also fallen to you in pleasant places. Canaan Canyon is yours. The lines go as far north and as far south and as far east and as far west as you can see. While you believed we were squatters on this land, it was ours all along. Welcome to the Promised Land that was promised you, so long ago.

She awoke to a toad sitting on her pillow. His morning song was enchanting. It was just short of something familiar. When he added words to his melody, he sang of her beauty and he enticed her to listen to more. As he continued, he crafted a story about her cunning and boasted of her perfection. She needed to hear what he said and she begged him to return each day to sing his song of herself. Each day he returned and his tune was what woke her up and set her on her course for the day. He fed her what she needed, in order to win and succeed in all of her pursuits. As her reliance on him increased, he began to grow, spending more and more time, entreating her hunger for greatness and purpose. Soon he was so large and bloated that his wart covered skin tore, and from it crept a rat. Despising rats, she began to shoo him away. Just before his tail left her pillow, he stood up on his hind legs and with his back to her belted an Italian aria that was so captivating, she stopped and listened and fell in love with the very love he professed to have for her. He revealed to her that she was a temptation that no one could resist. With each look and each move she learned the power to destroy a man’s heart. This became her new weapon, as she went out to win and succeed in all of her conquests. He fit in her purse and she carried him everywhere with her, keeping him close to her side. He in turn showed her the ways of temptation and desire.

It was an autumn morning and he sat on her windowsill singing his rhythmic chant when a midnight colored cat jumped onto the windowsill, slapped him down and ate him for breakfast. She went into an immediate rage chasing after the cat to seek her revenge. The cat laid down, unafraid and laughed at her. This emboldened her fury. This cat did not sing, but instead, taught her strategy and how to taunt the mice of men. She became an expert and a complete package, beauty, seduction and precision. She was designed for a king. Just as the toad grew, so too did the cat, with each mocking laugh she laughed and each superlative thought she concocted about herself.

The cat grew so large, he began to take on the appearance of a jaguar, with yellow eyes against his black fur. He began pacing the room and staring at her. He finally came out with it and said, “If you run, I will pursue you and tear you to pieces. I have taught you how to be perfect for a king, you belong to me. Apart from me you are nothing. I am the king of the Indian jungle and you are my hare. I am the author of your cunning and I have groomed you to be mine.”

The girl, trapped and panicked, rewound her years in fast motion and realized this had all been a ruse. She had listened to the toad and the rat and the beastly feline and now became the muse of the jaguar. She recalled all of the lies she believed and fell into a heap on the floor. She wept for her innocence and the girl she used to be. When she stood up, she saw her reflection and she was horrified. She had warts on her skin, a long hairless tail and sharp and pointed teeth. “What happened to me?” she cried. “I used to be beautiful!” When she had taken on the lies she transformed into those lies and embodied them.

There was a knock at her door, and there stood a man, covered in a cloak. He said, “If you will, please, give me some water from your jar, that I might drink.” When she brought him the water, he removed the cloak from his head and the room filled with light. The jaguar hissed and cowered in the corner. The girl pleaded with the man to rescue her from her captor. When she pointed back at the jaguar, in its place was a small black kitten, mewing for a bowl of milk, stripped of its power. The man showed her his scars and said, “Your ransom was paid long ago.” By her faith she was healed and as she walked away from her past, she learned real truth. Her tail shrunk, her warts fell off and her teeth became like beautiful pearls. She regained her beauty and purpose, as it was intended, in the garden. As her truth increased, so too did her beauty and soon it was as if nothing had happened. A past dissolved and rewritten. Standing before her mirror, she saw her perfection, in Christ, and realized she was designed by and for the King of kings.

 

 

God is a God of Rebirth, Regeneration, Reconciliation and much more…Which of these are you looking for today?

Reaccept • Reach • Reacquire • Reaction • Reactivate • Readapt • Readdress • Readily • Readjust • Readmit • Readopt • Ready • Reaffirm • Real • Realign • Realism • Realistic • Reality • Realize • Reallot • Really • Realm • Reanimate • Reap • Reappear • Reapply • Reappoint • Reapportion • Reappraise • Rear • Rearrange •  Reason • Reasonable • Reassert • Reassess • Reassign • Reassure • Reattach • Reattempt • Reawaken • Rebadge • Rebase • Rebate • Rebid • Rebind • Rebirth• Reboot • Rebound • Rebuild• Recalculate • Recall • Recant • Recapitalize • Recapture • Recast • Receipt • Receive • Recension • Recent • Reception • Receptive • Receptor • Recharge • Recipe • Recipient • Reciprocal • Reciprocity • Recirculate • Reckoning • Reclaim • Reclassify • Recode • Recognition • Recognizant • Recognize • Recommence • Recommit• Recompose • Reconcile • Recondition • Reconfigure • Reconfirm • Reconnaissance • Reconnect • Reconquer • Reconsider • Reconsolidate • Reconstitute • Reconstruct • Reconvene • Reconvert • Record • Recount • Recoup • Recourse • Recover • Recovery• Recreation • Recriminate • Recruit • Rectify • Recuperate • Recur • Recycle • Redact • Rededicate • Redeem• Redefine • Redemption• Redeploy • Redesign • Redevelop • Redial • Redirect • Rediscover • Redistribute • Redraft • Redraw • Re-educate • Re-elect • Re-employ • Re-enlist • Re-enter • Re-equip • Re-establish • Refine • Refit • Reflate • Reflect • Refocus• Reforest • Reform • Refract • Refrain • Refresh •  Refuge• Refund • Refurbish • Regal • Regard • Regenerate• Regroup • Regulate • Rehabilitate • Reign • Reimburse • Reimport • Reinforce • Reinstate • Reinsure • Reintegrate • Reinterpret • Reintroduce • Reinvest • Reinvigorate • Reissue • Reiterate • Rejoice • Rejoin • Rejuvenate • Relabel • Relate • Relationship• Relative • Relaxation • Relay • Relearn • Release • Relevant • Reliable • Relief •  Relieve • Relish • Relive • Relocate • Rely • Remain • Remake • Remark •  Remedy • Remember • Remind • Remission • Remit • Remix • Remnant • Remodel • Remold • Remove • Render • Renegotiate • Renew• Renovate • Renown • Reoccupy • Reopen • Reorder • Reorganize • Reorient • Repackage • Repair• Reparation • Repay • Repent• Rephrase • Replace • Replant • Replay • Replenish • Reply • Repopulate • Repose • Represent • Representative • Reprieve • Reprocess • Reproduction • Reprogram • Rescue • Reseat • Reseed • Resemble • Reserve • Reset• Reshuffle • Resilient • Resolution• Resolve • Resonant • Resonate • Resounding • Respect • Respite • Respond • Response • Responsibility • Responsive • Rest • Restage • Restart • Restoration• Restore • Restructure • Resubmit • Result • Resume • Resupply • Resurface • Resurrection• Resurvey • Resuscitate • Retain • Retake • Retell •  Retire • Retract • Retrain • Retrieve • Retroactive • Retrofit • Retry • Return • Reunite• Reutilize • Revalue • Reveal • Revelation• Reverence • Reverse • Revise • Revision • Revisit • Revival• Revolutionary

No longer just walking among us, now a silent majority. The sleeping masses, functioning just enough to make it. Going through life, reacting to circumstances like pinballs, bouncing from one thing to the next. Existing, surviving, members of the living dead. Life’s pain has lulled them to sleep, victims to waking slumber. A hush has fallen and they mustn’t be disturbed. One foot in front of the other, routine, sheltering in place, self-imposed blinders.

Peace arise. Walk with purpose. Hold your head high. Aim for the stars. Do unforgettable things. Leave your mark. Make mistakes. Be you. Fail out loud. Laugh, from your belly with twinkling eyes. Take a stand. Let your voice be heard. Share your heart. Help others. Do not let your past, your failures or others define your today or tomorrows. Rise up. Bow. Dance. Learn. Engage. Anticipate. Fight fear with faith. Breathe, deeply. Apologize. Forgive. Forget. Love those who can’t love themselves. Skip and then run. Think. Create meaning. Impact others. Look people in the eye. Shake someone’s hand and keep the promise that came with it. Treasure relationship. Live. Love.

A crown of thorns sat upon His head. “Father, if you are willing, take this cup from me, yet not my will, but yours be done.” The most wretched death one could endure. He knew it was to come, as it was foretold in the prophecy. He knew His fate. He knew He would be mocked and beaten and tortured and spat upon. He knew that He would be punished like a thief and a murderer. He knew He would endure the sins of the world. Yet, knowing all He knew of His future, He didn’t give up. He made the impossible possible. He loved unconditionally. He acted in faith and miracles took place. He cared for and healed the sick and wounded. He educated. He took time for the just and the unjust. He went out of His way for others. He valued children and women and men and the elderly, the sick, the broken and the sinners. He got excited about great faith. He overcame circumstances and helped others do the same.

As a people, the young and the old, we have seen unspeakable things. We have experienced worse. We’ve been oppressed. We’ve issued genocide. We have been robbed in ways people could not imagine. Not one of us endured worse than what was endured on the cross. Not one of us willingly drank the cup of wrath. Not one of us became a global sacrifice. Not one of us has ever carried so much sin that God hid His face from it.

Our God lives. Grace abounds. Forgiveness is here. Together, let’s embrace the freedom that was purchased for us.

Caught on the precipice of the waves of double mindedness. My ship, suspended between the two, going neither north nor south. Wishing for freedom in the measure of the east to the west. Entertaining one way and fancying another. Doldrums atop mountainous waves. Captivated without progress. An unregistered compass spinning while sitting still. Such is the plight of the man who sees with his heart and wants with his mind. To have glimpsed the kingdom of heaven and still lust after the thorns. A man with two masters and servant to none.

The hull began to groan and when it could no longer sustain the weight, it cracked and crumbled between the two waves. The stern was to my right and the bow was to my left. Each taking on the sea as I tread water between them. The waves flattened and melted into the remarkably still water below. One body of water as far as I could see. The surface was so calm I could see my own reflection, which rippled with each of my attempts to stay afloat. Survival became my primary focus and for the first time my senses unified as I dedicated mind, body and soul to my saving. A single purpose before me.

There was nothing that I could do but continue to tread water. I yelled at God. “Why have you done this to me?” Never thinking I would get a response, I heard a voice through the wind. “My glory is heavy.” I spun around in the water and as I had thought no one was there. Again the voice spoke to me. “What have your cares, riches and pleasures afforded you?” I looked down and saw that it gained me an ocean, an ocean that was preparing to swallow me. My thoughts and cares swam past me on the surface of the water. My pursuits and conquests all played out before me like a movie. None of it was appealing to me, as I sat in the deep dark waters. My temporal desires were nothing but distractions that choked and robbed me of what matters. I shouted back at the voice, “Nothing, they gained me nothing but a hungry sea!”

I felt a heavy pressure upon me and I began to hear a fizzing sound. The water began bubbling all around me, buzzing, jumping and dancing as it does. That’s when both of my feet hit something. Suddenly, there was wet sand between my toes. As the water continued to recede, a bridge of salt appeared. While I could not see where the bridge would take me, a man floating in the middle of the ocean doesn’t think twice when given a different option. I stepped onto the bridge and though I didn’t know it, my journey began.

As I started walking, the portion of the bridge that I had just crossed over broke off and fell into the sea. This level of commitment terrified me. I can’t go back. If I were to go back, I would be jumping into the surety of my death. I turned around and with each step my past crumbled behind me. I walked and walked and walked. No longer straddled between two waves, no longer divided in mind and spirit. I walked the path before me. One foot in front of the other. I never thirsted and never hungered and I walked for what seemed to be years. In the walking and in the listening, I had encounters.

Sea creatures rose up before me, like in the pirate tales I had read as a boy. With a word, a sword would appear and I would battle the monsters until they sunk back into the deep. Some days I would have to jog on the bridge as the anointing upon my feet was so great it would dissolve the salt below me. Other days, feathers would appear on my arms and I would run with all my might and take off and ride the currents. Each night, however, my salted roost called my name and I returned with delight. It was a journey where each day I experienced new adventures but the greatest was listening to the voice that carved me from the clay. Hearing His secrets and His whispers made me come alive.

Now an older man stood where I used to be, lines on my face and grey through my hair. My strength remained great and my vision and focus were sharp. I reached the end of the bridge and it deposited me into soft warm sand. Before me were palm trees which shaded the ground beneath them. I walked ahead. As my eyes adjusted to the darkening atmosphere, it became certain that I was being observed. My every movement made the jungle pulse. I continued down the middle of the well-defined path, which was oddly worn down on each of its sides. I heard a war cry and then down the path came running a man with long spindly legs and a tiny body above. He came to a screeching stop right before me. His legs towered over me. They had to be at least twenty feet high. I prepared for battle. He just stood there staring at me and while the distance from my face to his was great, it was evident that he was angry about my presence. Neither of us backed down. I heard a great rustling coming from all around me in the jungle and more towering men appeared from behind the trees. I was outnumbered and surrounded. No possibility for retreat. All were positioned to devour me. The leader, who was looking down at me, motioned for me to follow him. I wasn’t in a situation to debate, so I did as he asked.

The leader’s giraffe-like legs straddled the path, one foot on either side of it. I stood in the middle and continued to follow. As I walked, the other men fell in line behind me and they whispered in a language I had never before heard. As I peered over my shoulder, the other men walked with feet bridging the path, just as the leader was doing before me. We soon arrived at their camp. I became uneasy as it was laid out just like a scene out of a boyhood story where cannibals successfully ate the intruders. I desperately wanted to be back on the bridge, which now looked more like a dock, as the result of its constant crumbling. My heart spoke to God: “Lord, You saved me from my captivity, stranded between two waves. You sustained me for years walking over the sea on a bridge of salt. I know Your nature and I have faith that You led me here for a purpose. Thank you for this situation as I know it will be used to glorify You. May Your will be done on earth as it is in heaven.”

As we entered their site, there were hundreds of deep thin holes in the ground. The men approached the holes and each stepped into them, one leg at a time. They sunk down into the ground and only a portion of their legs were visible. They twisted a bit and then separated from their legs and walked on shorter legs, which moved quickly as they surrounded me. I was now with men of my own size. I watched in amazement and then began to realize those were not their legs they were stilts! They slid their stilts into the holes in the ground like knives into a knife block. What is this before me Lord? Recognizing I did not speak their language, they brought me to their wall of history. From what I could gather, they had been stilt people for a very long time. As I continued seeing their pictures, from present to past, I noticed they weren’t always stilt people. There was a time, in a garden, where they walked as they had been created. Something happened in that garden which forced them to leave. From that point forward, they started using stilts as extensions of themselves. There must have been a need for them to be taller, but taller than what? Their transformation started with much shorter stilts than the length they graduated to today. They were shaky with them at first but through the generations they became extremely proficient.

God reminded me of my boat upon two waves as I reviewed the history of men upon two stilts, each divided. I was suspended, making no progress, as I straddled two stationary waves. These men believed they needed to be bigger than what they chose to leave behind in the garden, so they stood on sticks and beat their chests. The sticks became greater and longer and each generation clung to them more wildly than the first, a conspiracy attempting to overcome justice. A culture who refused the lesson of grace and instead chose to fight the Creator by attempting to make themselves bigger and fiercer. A culture that developed through sin and belief in the lies they told themselves. Now, they are a curious bunch who lack function and purpose as their adaptations have overcome their nature. The very cornerstone of their society entrenched in rituals robbing and crippling them from their  appointed effectiveness. A different history, but suspended all the same.      

I was a problem, as I did not embrace their idolatry, refused to stand on their sticks and walked the center of the path, undivided with purpose. After demonstrating my understanding and recognition of their history, I motioned to them, just as the leader had done to me. We waked back through the jungle toward the sea. I walked the top of the mounded path and they walked behind me, one foot on either side of the path. I collected branches along the way and signaled to them to do the same. Given their towering height, they were unable to gather and they shrugged and continued forward. When we reached the water I began using the sticks I had collected to create a raft. My new giant friends were very interested and wanted to join in. Again, they couldn’t help or participate because of their stilts, which kept them stranded and unable to venture far. A young man in the back defiantly stomped his pointed foot into the sand and it bored deep enough to catch. He slid down his stilt like a fireman sliding down the pole. I had always wanted to see someone do that…Thank you Lord. He walked over to me carrying his stilts. He broke one and the entire group shrieked and began chastising the young man. He broke it again and then started on the second stilt. He used his stilts to make a raft just like mine. We pushed out into the water and started our next journey, following God, single minded on a sea of forgetfulness. The young man felt the warrior in him rising and he left behind his past and used it as his launching point for his appointed quest.

So, I want to talk about boxes. Years ago, I had a friend look after my bird while I was away. He called and said that my bird was at the bottom of the cage and wasn’t moving. I remembered that I had a shoe box in the house and told him to take the bird and put it into the box and that I would decide what to do when I got home later that day. So he used the tongs and lifted up the bird and put it into the shoe box, put the cover back on and placed the box on my kitchen counter. I came home later that day and opened the box and sure enough my bird was dead. Not knowing what to do with it; I left it on the counter and left for another obligation.  I had decided that I would take care of the bird later that night. My friend, Tim, came back to the house while I was away to check in on the other bird and called me in hysterics. He said: “Mariah, I left the bird in the box on the left side of the counter and now the box has moved to the right side of the counter. I guess it wasn’t dead when I put it in there, but I’m pretty sure it is dead now.” I started cracking up which further aggravated him. I could barely speak I was laughing so hard. He hadn’t realized that I had come home and I was the one that had moved the box. After apologizing I think he has forgiven me.

Dead things are put into boxes. That’s not where we put the Living God. If you can’t see what God is doing in your life, it isn’t because He isn’t there. He never stops caring for us and preempting our needs. You can’t see life when you put a lid on a box, when you trap what is living. Open up the box so you can hear the beating of the wings of the Holy Spirit. Let the dove descend upon you. Open your arms and throw your head back and let the power of the Spirit blow your mind and destroy the smallness of your thinking. God can only be as big in your life as you allow him to be. Open up the gates! Let the floodwaters surround you! I don’t want a little god who can only do little things. I want the Kingdom of Heaven. I want the Creator of the universe. I want the King of kings and Lord of lords. I want Jehovah Jireh, God of provision!

When we are born God is all we know. There are no limitations. It isn’t until sin and judgement creep into our lives that we start building God’s box. God you can’t go to the concert with me. God you can’t come to school with me. God you can’t go on this date with me. With each of these exclusions, another piece of wood is applied to the box. Pretty soon, the box is complete and God is in it and you place the lid over him. It is likely you didn’t even notice that you covered him up as you were so memorized in your self-worship. Once the oxygen depletes and the fire goes out, you have a coffin where the lover of your soul used to live. You traded everything of eternal value for self- idolatry. Time passes and you’ve tasted all the delights the world has to offer and you become bored. It occurs to you that there was a time in your life that was much better than today. It is then that you ask, where is God? He has forsaken me! Now you have two choices to make. You can put the last angry nail in the coffin or you can begin the deconstruction of yourself and your choices and begin removing the wood and the nails. And when you finish, and grace restores all that you so freely gave away, you will see the scars of your choices, on the hands of your Savior. Some of the nails you drove in can never be undone because Jesus received those nails as a willing sacrifice, as the ram in the thicket. And when that revelation encompasses your mind and your soul, you will fall to your knees. No matter where you are in your walk with God, it is never too late to take Him out of the box and watch in awe and wonder at the amazing Glory of God.

Love…and the greatest of these is love. Love is a priority to Christ. It is the foundation of what is required of us as Christians.  It is the reason for everything, for creation, for free will, for imparting heaven to earth in the form of sinless man, for obedience in His will, for the sacrificial Lamb, for taking on the sins of the world and taking on hell, for the resurrection, for the impartation of the Holy Spirit, for the promise of a future, for grace. In contrast, the enemy is always lying, to everyone that will listen. He is the author of confusion and when we find our country confused he will have responsibility. We are witnessing the attempts at the perversion of the word love, which when correctly applied it is the very flora and the fauna of our relationship with God. A perverse mockery of love has been cracked open in our country. This something has been invented as a response to hatred and the enemy is calling it love. It has become a battle stance versus the condition of hearts. It is a great justifier in minds that are unable or unwilling to discern. If you don’t practice in this fabricated love, by the world’s standard you are a hater. The world is calling for no hate, which on the surface is noble and appears to align with the goodness of God. When we peel back the layers, it is no more than a fear of exposing sin, which directly impacts the measure of excitement the sinner is able to extract from his sin. The modern age of people, who know not of God and His rich suffering, have an aversion to being questioned or rebuked and we are watching them come undone when God’s Truth is spoken into their lives.  You see, we all know Truth. It was breathed into us in the garden when we took our first breath. It is the spirit voice inside of us that helps direct our path. But what if we want to have a different path? How can you enjoy the path when you are constantly reminded that the path is not the right path and it is not leading us to the right destiny? Wouldn’t you want to make that voice stop so you could revel in your freedom of choice? And how can we attempt to silence it? Confuse it says the evil one. Let’s celebrate a manufactured love and make it the cry of our flesh. This life of false love then makes us self-righteous in our works and falsely justifies us. In the absence of Truth, the sinner is convinced and justified in their abhorrent sin and the absolute censorship of conviction takes place. Drive out the Holy Spirit, diminish it with the lie of generic love, and the sinner is able to revel in the pride and arrogance of his own presumed self-worth and elevate himself to a place of self-anointed godliness.

In this atmosphere of demigods, who have replaced men, there is a recoiling from correction and the resulting wrath falls upon the messenger and he is labeled as someone who supports hate, when in fact he is ushering Truth. Towering porous mountains have risen up, one for each demigod. Stacked to the clouds with justified sin, seeping and oozing and crumbling over a compromised foundation. On top of each mountain there is a three legged throne, where the sinfully divine sits and admires the empty love he has birthed. His creation justifies him to become a judge and an accuser as he throws the contents of his rotting mountain down upon the heads of the righteous. The wicked wear crowns of serpents hissing loudly distracting them from righteous thinking. They silence the objections with their forked tongues and classify the justified with the projections of their own evilness. Their anti-judgement campaign justifies their sin and keeps all opposed quiet. Oh beware to those who affix the label of “sinner” upon the justified.

Holy Spirit rise up like a desert sand storm and blanket our souls with your conviction. May the wind of your justice topple mountains of the wicked. May the thrones of the unrighteous crack from the weight of Your presence. May the squalling sand shave off the scales on the eyes of the lost and blast away the hardness on hearts. Convict hearts of their false convictions. Put an end to the wretched silencing of the just and the holy. Smash the serpents’ heads. Holy Spirit be relentless and never ceasing and never tiring of declaring the ways of the Lord. May those who have embraced and become a worldly success in this campaign be trapped like blind rats as the manifest presence falls upon them like a cloud. Allow grace and mercy to abound. May hearts be saved and make true Love known. May it be the very wickedness of the attacks of the ruefully justified that expose the enemy’s deceit. May tongues confess the goodness of the Lord as this is brought to its knees and keep it there until it can confess with its lips that God is Lord, Creator, Judge, Redeemer. Lord, we cry out for your will to be done on earth as it is in heaven. Amen.

You’ve spent your whole life putting things into boxes, keeping order and controlling all that comes your way. In the middle of your table sits a box. You’ve carried that box to college and to your first apartment. When you got married you brought it with you. Your spouse and kids don’t know what is inside and now it has just become part of the house, a fixture. When visitors come they see it and think it’s odd that a pine box would sit in the middle of your table, the place where you break bread and share hearts. It is always in the way and you wonder why you even keep it anymore. No one asks what is in there, no one wants to be rude. It never moves. You get angry the few times a year when you have to dust it off because it is a reminder of what is inside. Better left in the box, better left forgotten, better silenced, better left for dead. You wonder, is it dead yet? You broke its legs and shaved off its hair and starved it so it would fit into your box nicely. It fit perfectly, you’re in control.

She stood there staring at it. Her kids were grown and out of the house and her husband was away for the day. Looking over her shoulder, she nudged the box. No movement. Slowly she lifted off the lid and there she found it just as she left it, the broken Lamb of God, tucked perfectly into the box she had designed for it. The walls of the box were high enough and the lid tight enough to keep it contained. As she lifted the Lamb into her arms, He healed before her eyes and spoke to her heart. I’ve been here for years. I’ve been waiting for you to open the box. I knew you would. You built the box to bury the god you believed Me to be. In the pain of your thinking you made Me less so you could be more. We missed so many moments together. You thought I was the thing that was whispered into your ear and you believed it until you could no longer see me for who I AM. You broke Me down into what you thought was manageable and turned Me into a small, distant and powerless god. My grace is wide and my power is endless. In this dance we are about to share, let Me lead. Let me spin you around and around until I take you back to when you were a child in your backyard spinning in circles looking at the clouds. Let me spin you like I did then, before you decided to bring fear and control between us, before you put Me in the box and left Me to die. As we dance and run through the fields together let Me remind you that I am the beginning and there is no end to the love I bring. Hand over your fear. Hand over the smallness of your thinking. Hand over your walls. I will walk through the walls of your soul and bring you life. I will go as far as you will let Me go. Open your mind and open your heart and remove the boundaries of your fear. Let Me be the lover of your soul. Let’s fill up the box. Let’s put the control that changes the atmosphere and limits the glory of relationship into the box. Let’s put fear that diminishes power and freedom in the box. The pain you suffered, that you believed justified your choice to idolize control and convinced you to partner with fear, let’s put it into the box. Seal it up and follow Me. As they walked into the garden, there was a cross with an altar before it. Jesus took the box and placed it at the foot of the cross. He cried out to Father and said, “Not My will but Yours be done.” He showed her the scars in His hands and at that moment she knew that He understood pain and suffering beyond her own. He endured it willingly so that He could teach us about perfect love, a love that has no control or fear or shame. She looked down at the box and she watched it decay and decompose and turn into dust. When the Holy Spirit arrived, the remnants were stirred up and blown to the ends of the earth. And they danced and she twirled and she smiled as He led.

God has called us to gather, raise and lead the Army of Christ into battle. The front lines will be the afflicted who have been healed by His stripes. We are beyond revival at this point we are calling for a supernatural revolution. A revolution in how we have approached the Godhead. A revolution in how we have approached our brothers and sisters. A revolution in our healing. We will be overcoming minds with miracles from God. It will be a time where the least of these are elevated and given time to bask in beauty, but just for a moment. They will be the ones singing the battle cry. They will be the first to drive the sword into the enemy who had previously robbed and destroyed them. This will be no more. The addicted will watch as their injection sites open and the lies will be syphoned from their veins. The lies will accumulate in the air and hover for a moment, striking them with reverent awe and fear, before falling to the ground and shattering like glass. The lies will be no more. The broken and the abused will rise up with the strength of lions. Their roars will come from the deepest recesses of their being and knock over their accusers. The roaring will awaken the walking dead. Slowly their heads will raise and they will see the sun. They will blink and awaken. They have been asleep for a long time. They didn’t know they were dead but now they know they are alive. They will be the second string, our relief fighters. Wake up, wake up, wake up! We must not sleep we must charge forward. They will smell the salt of the saved and wake up forever.

This band of brothers will camp out and wait and pace and dance and chant and sing and listen to the ever increasing beating of the heart of earth as it brings forth the war. We will be in fields. We will be dirty. It will smell of smoke from our campsites. We will have focused precision of mind and body and soul connected. We will be ready and waiting for Him to say go. And when it is time the screams and roaring will be like animals on fire. There will be no stopping this force as they tear across the battle field into the righteous slaughter of the enemy. It will not be merciful. It will not be swift. There will be none spared.

Behind the warriors there will be the third string, the mighty third string filled with enormous angels from His Angel Army. They will be taller than trees and stacked to heaven. The mere sight of this layer will not only put fear into the adversary but it will make them cower and shirk as their future is revealed to them. They will be trembling and horrified at the sight.

A great distance back will be God in the clothes of a lion. His gate is steady and the path He walks is not a new path, it is the same path to Calvary. He knows it well. He has traveled it every day since the beginning. He is all the while bellowing a song behind the warriors. The song is of deep groaning. The very song compels the war forward. In the chaos before him, there is peace around him. His countenance shows the same inward focus of a mother giving birth to her child. He is focused on the mission and will not be deterred.

God’s Army will not be shaken it will not falter. It will not lose one. The wounds we receive will fuel an even greater attack and escalate the violence and the noise. This will be a long battle for many years, never ceasing, never growing weary. The enemy will not stand. The Army will not sleep until every last enemy is destroyed and the birds scatter their bits across the earth. Their blood will fertilize the earth and from it bring in the new earth with new creation of life and eternity. We will stand in the fields and gaze into heaven and as we pant for breath we will be healed and restored. Our weapons will fall from our hands and we will walk ahead as if nothing had happened. We the warriors in the Army of the Lord.