Wind

Reading just now about the new tallest building. http://www.popsci.com/bown/2010/product/burj-khalifa

Someone at work today was talking about how quickly America has become other than what we grew up thinking she was. The only thing that came to my mind in the conversation was that no house is worth much when it is removed from its foundation.

Now here is this article about a building whose greatness is not strictly dependent on its foundation, but upon its mass and the character of its core. Ponder that a minute. Move it and its mass does not change. Move it and its core character does not change. Sure, it still has got to have an impressive foundation. But the foundation means less than in any previous "World's Tallest Building."

Just thinking about foundation versus core character and mass.

The Spirit baptised believers' mass is the chabod, the weight of the Spirit of God. The mass is not necessarily visible, but is there nevertheless. The weightiness of the man is part of the way those who encounter him describe him.

The core character is the Naming, where the abiding name describes the character of the named one. When Father has changed someone, he has renamed him. Given a new name to describe the new character, the new man. The Name of the family which has adopted the new member. And you have to go into the core of the building to understand its significantly different nature. You have to go into the core of the man to see how he has been changed. Of course if you sit and watch him in the wind of life, you will see how he acts differently because of his new nature.

So why was I previously valuing foundation so greatly? One thing for sure is the description of the fundamental difference between building on sand and building on the Rock. And on this Rock He will build His Church. There is nothing without the fundamental truth of the Good News. But atop it, what is the fundamental character and weight of the Church as she is fittly joined together?

Father, teach us how to be the Church for which you have laid the perfect foundation. Keep us heavy with the oil of Your Spirit and joined to one another in the fashion that demonstrates your Love in the face of the wind.

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.

Grace and More Grace

I did not care who they were. I still did not care who they were when one of them insulted me to try to provoke me, or at least pay him as much attention as he believed he deserved. When I finally looked up and saw who they were, I still only wanted to know how I could serve them. I have gotten in the habit of being alright.

My God said, "Fear Not." By the Grace of God, I am trying to obey that command. And because I am trying, He is making me fearless.

When I can walk fearless, it becomes clear that I don't need to take. That makes my Kingdom citizenship interesting. Thank you, Father, for holding me and telling me over and over that You will never leave nor foresake me.

Time to Write

Time to right. Time to make man righteous. Time to stand him back up, to stand walk live the way man was made to. That was the point of the sacrificial death and supernatural resurrection of Jesus of Nazareth. Father said, "It is time."

So the Messianic prophecies are fulfilled in the life of Jesus. In the process, everything needed to reconcile man and Maker is accomplished. So reconciliation is complete...where there is faith. Father does not make anyone turn up the lane off of the main road and come get a hug. But the lane is there and so is the hug.

Thank you for the Blood, Father.

Resting in Christ is proving to be flawless. Running through the dark city streets being beaten by the watchmen but continuing to seek the Lover of my soul is the only right course. When my companions doubt my sanity;

Have you met my good friend Maria
The craziest girl on the block?
You'll know her the minute you see her
She's the one who is in an advanced state of shock
She thinks she's in love
She thinks she's in Spain
She isn't in love
She's merely insane
It must be the heat
Or some rare disease
Or too much to eat
Or maybe it's fleas
Keep away from her
Send for Chino
This is not the Maria we know
Modest and pure
Polite and refined
Well-bred and mature
And out of her mind! (Stephen Sondheim)

I know I am on the right track. I continue to be devoted to sitting at His feet when there is work to do.

Thank you for continuing to teach me to serve You in the manner which you desire. Please continue to make this passage available, and transforming our feet to conform with your path.

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How? Why? When?

I do not know how I got here. I do know there was corner to turn, that I was anticipating the corner, that I could not see it until I got there, and that I made the turn when I got to it.

Yup. It was in the pain. In the ache. In the trial. I made the turn because I needed to be moving in a new direction, on a new path, with a new destination somewhere ahead. And I was not alone. The Church was with me. Thank you, Father, for your Church.

I do not wish that pain for anyone. But I do pray that the signs for the exit ramps and entrance ramps will be properly illuminated at just the right times, and that we will all have the humility to give ourselves over to the service of a navigator.

For me the process of getting here took a stripping down to essentials. When everything is heavy, it gets easier to identify things that need to be discarded and abandoned. I do not believe it makes it any easier to release them. That they are no longer worth carrying just becomes clear. Clear as crystal.

So I wake up one day clinging to my King. My hands feel like they have the habit in muscle memory. So I have been clinging long enough to develop the hands for it. Might be like developing hinds feet for high places.

If my hands have developed into hands made by practice to cling to God, it also means that He is faithful to be there to be clung to. He has been within reach every time. He has persisted in being there for the duration of each encounter.

Every other handhold tried has proven to be unavailable and/or made temporary by my depending on it. I have awakened, having forsaken false hopes. Unreliable reeds.

I see new places that promise safety and rest without holiness. But, somehow, my hands are in the habit of clinging where they have never been betrayed.

And it smells so good here, Daddy.