Pretty little lies

What do I know.
I know that because of Jesus, because a brother I didnt know I had saw me, loved me and then sacrificed himself for me so that I could come home.
I could leave the dark, desolate, alone lands and come home.
There would be no repercussions, no remembering who I was before I was home.
It would be dark… and then light.
It is impossible to go back surely.  Once adopted.. ?
Satan seems to try and hang “old” stuff on you. To draw you down a path that looks like it leads to those nether lands, but it dosent actually exist any more.  Right?  All that “before stuff” is gone, incinerated.  In the power of a love that has no darkness at all.
So what is it that we fall into…? Maybe forgetting.  We forget.
We get caught up in the mad whirl of things and forget.. but why.
Why does the mad whirl of things cause us to forget?
Maybe because the mad whirl of things is not made up of our counter culture, our surreal society.
The mad whirl of things is made up of all that we were taken out of.  All those things that keep society going without the God who made us.
So it is geared to make us forget.. it does not change who we are or remove who we are, it just makes us forget.
The forgetting means our heart is not protected, it is not guarded and we become weak and feeble as Satan drapes us with lies.
Lies that become like mud as we walk, lies that catch at our ankles and trip us up.
Lies that have no grip on the shoulders of a guarded heart.
Lies that burn up as soon as they touch the most outer extremity of our hearing, when our heart is guarded.
Lies about our past failures,
Lies about who we are,
Lies about how we look.
Lies that can appear as truth.
Lies that keep us small and in the dirt.
Lies that hold us on the milk.
Lies that keep us in old truth, afraid of the new.
Lies that prevent us becoming.
Guard your heart, Beloved of God.
Remind yourself daily, who you truly are.
Polish those words written on your heart
Dont let the dust of worry and fear settle over that which is etched there,
causing you to forget.
Guard your heart, Beloved of God.

Counting the cost Luke 14 25 -35

I love testimonies. Of how our walk began with this beloved Saviour. Mine began back in 1976, in a little back water country then called Rhodesia. It really did blow my 14 year old world apart, because suddenly I was loved. I had 3 weeks of literally walking on air, of breathing heaven and then the rubber hit the road. Here is Jesus outlining the cost of following him. There were huge crowds with him, drawn and attracted by his external works. I wonder if this is rather him highlighting an internal sacrifice which could of course lead to external sacrifice but that it is first an internal thing. His 2 greatest commandments are first and 2nd Love God and Love your neighbour, both internal unseen but then expressed externally in works. The work of God in us is first and foremost an internal work of love. I am crucified with Christ nevertheless I live but not I, but CHRIST, That crucifixion is the death of self, the death of the old way of walking, those things that gave us Love, Acceptance, worth and security, those places we went to to feel better about ourselves. He is our place of home now, when the source was restored and we received that free gift of righteousness, we no longer need to plug into those fleshly things, for our Love, acceptance, worth and security, we are now plugged back into the true source of life. This daily dying to self begins with that internal work of knowing it is no longer I who live, the self life, the old man, the fleshly way of surviving in this world, but it is CHRIST who lives in me, it is his work, his doing. That for me has been the true cost, realising that it is not my strengths that are my glory, but my weaknesses because only then can his strength be made perfect. We think it is easy to see flesh, because it looks mean, it looks unkind, it looks selfish, however it doesn’t matter how good, kind, nice I am because if that also comes out of self effort, so from flesh then they are just as much “sin” as any of the obvious “bad” flesh. I exhausted myself being good,kind, nice, helpful because as a good Christian that is what I was supposed to be/do. It took me years to realise that I was still working out of the old man, that there was nothing “I” could do to live the good Christian life, it was impossible. It is only as I saw this, and experienced the revelation of my death so that Christ could LIVE in me, that I saw it was all about Him living his life through me, as me, not my effort to be the “good Christian”. That counting the cost is, for me, that internal dying of self, that all the externals count as dung compared to the surpassing greatness of knowing him.

Finding ourselves

Everything today is geared towards the false self.

To building it up so that we consume consume consume

Our true self, our soul, our deep down human being, is lost amid the trappings of the stuff, the bright lights of fairyland, of tinker bells and peter pans.

We are fractured, splintered, we have lost our true self to become some manufactured doing, performing for validation and adoration

We have re-gowned ourselves with corrupted flesh, in an attempt to cope with overwhelming life

We have forgotten the peace and rest resident in our true self in Christ

We have allowed pain to govern, to rule and snap the gentle ancient path where the good way is.

Come, again bow your head and take hold of the now, the eternal now that is present in Him

Allow it to permeate your present, to reach up out of your soul, your true self and entangle again with the God of Mystery, the God of the eternal now,

The desert and the spring

There is a state of walking this Christian life that is desert like. It is that place that kept the Jews in the wilderness for 40 years. Where they listened to each other, and grumbled and moaned and griped and nothing was good enough. God sent manna, God sent quail, God sent water, but nothing brought gratitude out of their hearts.

This is not because they didnt know God, they had a mountain of fire and smoke, they had miracles galore but what they didnt have was a still small voice.

So they ate dust, dirt, sand… their grumbling words, their mean spiritedness sat like sand on their lips and on their tongues.

They listened to each other not to that still small voice. They were so loud in each others ears that they drowned out any other voice.

We today are so loud in each others ears that we miss the crystal clear life giving water of God, of our Father leading us. We seek our own opinions and others far above and beyond Gods. It is easier to abdicate the throne of our Queen of hearts listening to her King to grovel in the sand with others, than to wait and rest and learn the new walk of the Kingdom. Only in desperate times do we suddenly put our ear to the ground to hear him and the underground spring bursts forth.

We are not in this only for the desperate times. Father longs for us to walk with our hearts joined as one to His, listening in an attentive state ALL the time. Yes it is possible. It is possible to lovingly listen to those who care, but to not let those voices weigh in over and above that voice that is the high call of God, the stream that bubbles underground but longs to burst out and flood the desert.

Fear keeps us locked into the myriad voices that surround us, so much so that we have become used to the sand, it almost tastes like water sometimes. Meanwhile we are becoming dessicated, dried out, husks of our former or possible true selves. And our Queen of hearts is dressed in rags and living like a pauper while super tramp the imposter stomps around our palace throwing his weight around.

Take a moment and back away, empty out all that is in your mouth, let go of all that is upon you and surrounding you, take an hour, a day, and wait and listen, you will hear that tumbling underground river, give it time and keep listening it will grow louder and break out and flood the desert, and your mouth washing away the sand and dirt you have lived on.

It is not easy to get there, because you not only have to stop but you have to wait in the stopping, you have to listen and you have to hang in there. Patience in the waiting, trusting that as you wait, your King is knocking down walls to get to you. Leaping on the high places, pushing over mountains, bringing that cascading river from the depths of your earth, up and out of your mouth, over you through you and filling your desert with the life giving water you so desperately have been dreaming of. and drenching those around you in the overflow.

But you have to wait, he has to break through all the crud and crap of years like sediment in a kettle in a hard water area that has never been cleaned. The “cares of this world” creep up on us so subtly, we think “We have to pay for this, we have to have that, we have to provide this”

This is my experience of a God who answers, who is mystery and yet who is a wide open book for us to walk into every page and live with, in and through.