Celebration

Celebration has been misappropriated.  Like nearly everything else.

Celebration is a holy thing that is by and for God.  It is just so easy to celebrate, that it quickly becomes by and for others.

I can not take celebration back.  Like the pastor's wife who wanted to take back the rainbow.

I can celebrate the Kingdom Now.  I can celebrate the majesty of God in me and around me.  I can celebrate the brideishness to be seen.  I can celebrate the victories won out of love, in the midst of the battlefield.

I can celebrate my Father who persists in loving me.  I can celebrate the family in which I have been set.  I can celebrate the oil of joy saturating me and making me functional in the Kingdom.

I celebrate You, Daddy.

There is a forecast of snow for tomorrow night. We do not get much snow.

You have to go somewhere to regularly get snow. Same with rain, sun, waves, tornadoes, drought.

When the irregular shows up, local folks are in wonder. They go out to experience it, because it may never manifest there again.

The best manifestation possible is always available. Some have lived their whole lives in the presence of the Holy Spirit, and have never been introduced. They could spend the rest of time lost in wonder, but nobody told them. They know they are missing something, but...

Some have found themselves standing under the spout where the glory comes out, and have stepped out of the deluge because they have things to do. They think they will come back later.

Sometimes they do.

The Glory of God is right here. Taste and see that the Lord is good.

Father, I know that in You there is nothing missing and nothing broken. I know that I walked away after tasting of the heavenly gift. I know that others do as well. I also know that Your Love pours out, and believers are not the only receivers. Thank You for the well of living water. Thank You that your love for us never fails and never falters. Show me how surrender.

Worshipful Devotion

I heard a man say today that his cause had to become everything to him. He said that his cause had to become the reason he slept and the reason he rose from sleep. He said that for his cause to prevail, it must also become the center of the lives of his listeners. He was calling for devotion to the cause.

The world is unbalanced without the success of his cause, so it is reasonable to live an unbalanced life to help bring the world back into equilibrium. He said that he expects his resolve in this great enterprise to significantly increase the chance of his being jailed or assassinated, so great is the power of the of the evil which he opposes.

and this man's cause is not the cause of Christ.

I met a man many years ago who had been a citizen of a country fundamentally opposed to the Gospel of Christ. As this man was personally committed to the cause of Christ, and particularly the cause of Christ for that country, his country was fundamentally opposed to him. Indeed, his country considered him insane and treated him as such, by institutionalizing him.

What is important enough to sacrifice for? Moreso, how is life worth living without something to sacrifice for. The sacrifice makes us different. Sacrifice invites transforming power. Like nothing else is able to.

We so easily aim our selves at the wrong target. Father, help your church stay full of holy oil, staying very near, able to stay lit and illuminating the target for each other and all.

A life sacrificed for a good cause is such a tremendous waste.

Holy

Resting under the Blood, Holy Blood of Jesus. There is so much religion. And then there is the Blood. The simple fact of finding cleansing and perfection under the shed Blood of a Holy God.

It calls for faith. But that is all. I plead the blood. I proclaim that the entire body of Christ Jesus is under the Blood. There is only one thing for it. Rest. In the rest, in stopping every struggle and moment of striving, the supernatural power resident on earth by the unexplainable Blood of God who made Himself man, is transformation from death to life. Transformation from darkness to light. Transformation from the religious struggle for redemption and perfection by human ritual to the simplicity of trusting God when He said, "It is finished."

Father, thank you for freedom from religion. Thank you for your gift of spiritual life instead.

I Love This Time

Thought this morning about going to twice a day posting; one in the morning and one at night. I love this time. Some times I get so lost in love that I remember that I am not here in the Holy Wild so I can write about it, but I am here so I can be with my Father. So I can lean on the arm of my Beloved.

There is such life in Holy Surrender. Maybe I can plan to write twice or more daily, but I am not sure it is possible. Just sitting here with the Spirit of God makes it difficult to write.

All of me that wants to write anything for the writing or the being read gets strained out, as the center of me that adores Christ passes through the veil. I get to sit here in the presence of God, and then what gets written has less of me in it.

I am learning that what is disabled in the Presence is the flesh that can not go any further. What I find of me beyond those moments of fuzzbuzz is what has been purified. In the nineties I used to cling to the God-buzz. Now it is time to be grateful for it, and move on through the filter.

There is no room for my flesh in the garden. It just draws flies. Thank you Father for drawing me. Thank you for satisfying me. Thank you for being the Truth

How Deep Does Satisfaction Go?

How many layers of itch are there? How many places does a soul have which crave satisfaction?

In my soul each one is connected to an unreleased hurt, an unforgiven slight stored away to fester and need attention. What does a satisfied soul look like? Can you imagine a person who does not need anything fixed? Can I imagine that for my self?

Why bother? Because there is a resting place for every one of those itchy places. It is like a challenge when Father dares me to trust Him with every tiniest little booboo. I am willing to let Him heal my soul in big splashy ways. Giving Him all of me to cleanse and restore requires surrendering every moment as it arises. I can not recognize all of the places all at one time. It is my walk, bumping into my world and its people that exposes each opportunity. So all day long I choose God or me, God or me, God or me, God or me. Who am I going to trust with this issue?

I am so grateful for the gift of Your Holy Spirit, Father. Thank you, Holy Spirit, for staying near to point out the places where I am listening to pride, who tells me "that one is too small for God. You can handle it yourself."

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You need a Father. I just heard a man I respect say that from the platform.

I have a Father. My friend Jack introduced Him to me. I had known and trusted His Son for a while. I went dancing with His Spirit regularly. They made a way for me to meet my Father, but Jack was the one who told me I could crawl up there and snuggle. Daddy, give Jack a hug for me.

Aunt Bea paved the way. She told me it was time to stop looking for a teacher. But she did not say what followed forsaking "a teacher."

Then I met Jack and had my answer. All riders leave the train here. Last station stop. Home. Father. Rest. Done. No need to look any further.

You need a Father. With Father is Shalom. Everything needed is here, though there is not much here. The desert wind strips away the decoration, any facade that might be left. The utter cold of night fractures everything that can not gain access to the private family quarters in the back of the tent. Where there is warmth that is and was and ever shall be. There is one resting place deep in my Fathers bosom...and there is plenty of room.

Father, thank you that I need empty hands and shoeless, clean feet to make the toddler climb up into your lap. It is so good to be home.

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Third Spaces: Public places where people are welcome to come, stay and associate.

1st Space is Home, 2nd Space is work.

Third Spaces is one of those things I have been thinking about and others have been as well. I found that I have been carrying a list of local Third Spaces for months now.

Today I had and took the time to go and sit. It was good. I am going back.

Some body said that it takes about six months for a new believer to shift and no longer have any unsaved friends. So how does the Gospel spread if Christ filled people have no real relationships with people who need Christ?

Receive Love and give Love away. Purpose. Difficult to fulfill without real relationships with those lacking Love.

It was good. I am going back. Thank you, Father, for dreams.

Even surfing has too many control issues.

I think there is a dying squirrel in the attic.

My ceiling fan is moving a plastic sack.

Based on the sound and the sound two days ago of a running squirrel somewhere above me, a squirrel is dying.

Based on turning around and looking for a movement that matches the sound I hear now, the fan is moving a bag.

It does not mean that a squirrel is not dying. Maybe just not in my attic.

All of this is the evidence of my physical senses. The response in my mind is the question of what action I will take to change, no, control what I am sensing. The control of my environment, so that what I sense is no surprise, so that what I sense is always pleasant, so that nothing that I sense tempts me to fear. This is one of my great addictions.

The really kicky thing about the whole bit is that the addiction is a counterfeit and a distraction from what is available. For what has already been made available to Father's kids.

Even surfing has too many control issues.

Out here in the Wilderness, nothing of my humanity has any effect. I can not control the God Wild because nothing from earth works here. My will, my intellect, my endurance, my terror, my rage. None of it works. I can not control my environment. Only worship, surrender, leaning, trust are even interesting here. And no employment of them, making holy things into human tools, has any effect. As soon as the things that are, always have been and ever shall be about and for the King are turned to be about me or anyone else, they lose what they had, become perverse in a place where perversion can not survive, and they flee from the presence of Holiness.

Father, thank you for you Holy Wild. Thank you that you like company. Please continue to teach me to lean everything, to rest everything.

About five years ago I met Glynnis Robbins, now Farmwald. She was part of the music at a church that was new to me. She sang a song about going out into the wilderness and meeting God. I have not been the same since.

Glynnis is finally recording a bunch of songs. I was going to call them her songs, but I can not. Even though the Spirit gave them to her, they still belong to God.

I have made a contribution to her project. If you see this in time, you can, too. Otherwise, just get your hands on the output.

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