Shepherd

From here on in I know nothing.

If this journey is to proceed

Then this is my way forward...

Vastly lacking in understanding

Laying down my own knowledge

And extricated from my precepts.

I have tethered myself
To The Way, Truth, Life
And this is ALL I know.


I cannot afford to be distracted
By the maze of deception that
Has woven its intricate familiarity
Around every kernel of Truth.
I cannot decipher what to embrace
Or discard, I do not know the way.
.

All that is required
For me, is to know
The Way, Truth, Life


I know the voice
I know the presence
I know the nudge
I know the prompt
I know the rest
I know the peace
I know the wisdom
I know the stillness
I know my Shepherd....
That is ALL I know... 

Intimacy breaks open the alabaster jar,

Intimacy breaks the old cycles,

Intimacy makes a new way,

Without our help, without our way,

Just The Way, making way for us

The Way we were created in the Original Design.

Cobwebs

It began as a bright day and the wind was fresh. We positioned ourselves right in the centre of the field in a long straight line across the width of it. There was such excitement amongst these youngsters as they took their places and began to display their unique skills. They were each in a white suit that fitted them perfectly, with individual markings of their own signature colour. One lifted off the ground and began to somersault in the air while another had lightening coming from their hands, another played with balls of fire or threw one of their mates up into the air who then in turn disappeared and reappeared. How these little wonders shone in the sun doing what came naturally to them, all their giftings in full operation without a trace of doubt or strife.

I stood alongside towering over them as their protector and escort, a 'watcher' of considerable height.

At the end of the field was a crowd, a right rabble to behold facing us as we faced them. They were all different shapes and sizes, some looked more ominous than others and as a group gave a dysfunctional impression. As I set my gaze on them I noticed that amongst their motley presentation there was a hint of white with a colour branding very similar to the youngsters beside me, just on a part of someone's arm or on a shoulder or the side of one leg. As I surveyed this crowd opposite I began to realise that there was such potential in them, that there was a part of them that revealed the same ability carried by the shining little beauties beside me.

There was the odd fiend amongst them but they were way out numbered by the rest. Were we on this field as opponents? We faced them and they faced us.... it was a definite stand-off.... so were we here to be against each other? All I wanted to do was to show them what I could see on them.... the same gifts these youngsters now imbibed and thrilled in. Would they mind if we ran over and made friends?

At that moment I noticed one of the little ones who now stood in front of me looking up franticly, desperately waving to get my attention . To my surprise the boy was my son... there was a look of shock and horror on his face as he shouted up at me, 'They've been taking us out from behind....' A veil fell on my ears, this was news I did not want to hear.

All along I had known that there were others behind us, further back but 'on our side' non the less. I had not turned around to look at them but surely it was fine because we are 'on the same side'....but oh my heart sank now as I became concious of the heaving mass behind me. I had wanted to believe all was fine and so squashed the feeling that maybe it was not. My head turned to see that which I dreaded....all was not fine, there behind us was a grey sea of people covered by what can only be described as the most filthy cobwebs. The layer of web blanketed their forms, devoid of colour and raspingly death-like.

My boy yelled at me again tugging at my leg, he was in disbelief and such anguish, 'They have been shooting us from behind....LOOK!...'
He thrust a card at me, it contained a picture of his friend in his branded white gear doing his best move and his name on it read 'Super Nova'.... 'HE'S GONE!', my little one shouted.
Shaking, he proceeded hand me card after card of his friends, all of them had been shot from behind and there were only a few of them left still alive.

It only took moments to wake up to what had been going on but already bullets were zipping past my elbow from behind. I seized my boy and hit the ground face first but I was too late, as I fell I took a bullet in my back directly into my spinal chord. I lay on the ground holding my son my mind fully alert, this cannot be how this ends I thought, this is not just about flesh and blood....I can push this bullet out...so I squeezed my body together to the point I knew my spinal chord was contracting in a pincer movement slowly dislodging the bullet. It was half way out through my skin and I awoke.
I could still feel the pressure on my spine even though I had been pulled out of sleep.

Later that day I stood with my maker remembering the squeezing out of a bullet from my back but nothing prior to that except the residue of a harrowing dream. As I shut my eyes I was taken back through the whole scenario again reliving every moment of the dream. How I cried as I watched the utter beauty of the next generation shining in the Son and operating fully in who they were with out a qualm. I was sick to my stomach by the look on my sons face, shocked that such betrayal was possible because I had not noticed or had not wanted to face up to the danger behind us.
I stood again in the middle of this field studying those in front, our supposed opponents who looked quite inviting and full of potential. I looked behind at the cobwebs and realised the sad reality that those on the 'same side' were a far greater threat than those that 'oposed' us. Here we were right in-between and totally vulnerable. Dismayed, I turned to my Maker and asked how we were to protect ourselves from being shot in the back.

'KEEP YOUR BACK TO THE TREE AT ALL TIMES', came the reply, 

'YOU MUST KEEP YOUR BACK TO THE TREE AT ALL TIMES'
Of course, all comes from intimacy, oneness with the One, 
the Tree of Life and The Cross to our backs, 
backing us fully with an intoxicating inseparable Love. 
If this domain is our priority, the rest will all be sorted out.

(Relates to previous post Belt-up, also Trees and Fireball)

Belt-Up

We are created looking forward and not back which leaves us vulnerable if no-one actually has our back, 'I've got your back, I've got you covered' is what we say to one another.
Residing in The Garden, The Tree of Life is always to my back, backing me entirely.
Behind me.... in fact 2000 years behind me was another tree hewn into a fatal instrument of torture as a threat to all in the empire who would  challenge its control. My ‘Life Giver’ deliberately put His back to that tree, defying every shred of control and turned it back into a Tree of Life.

He opened a doorway leading straight to the original Tree in the first garden and full access to the fruit of Life....

'Keep your back to The Tree at all times' was the instruction...... loud and clear advice.


So, in the same way I place my back there, where all was regained and remain in oneness with this Truth.
I am fully connected to and ride on the sonic wave that reverberates incessantly from the beginning of time to the here and now, echoing throughout history that we are well and truly backed and covered for all eventualities.

One morning as I imbibed this Life, I had two visitors arrive. It was as if they gently appeared and before my
mind had even registered that I had company, I was freely interacting with these friends. As their arrival grew stronger, waves of their presence begun to radiate off them and permeated through me. My whole self began to slightly quake until eventually everything about me was trembling and shaking uncontrollably. As I registered who they were, the certainty of gravity became rather groundless and I could have completely unravelled from my core as if my present form could peel off in such conditions. I put my hands on them both to steady myself and immediately who they were coursed up through my arms and would have hurled me off balance.

All the while I communed with the two arrivals, I was vaguely aware that my 'Life Giver', my backer, had begun to adopt a position slightly crouching as if in a rugby scrum. Arms had been wrapped fast around my middle and the more I shook or almost catapulted in all directions due to The Two in front of me, it was The One behind me who constantly held me in place.


The only way I remained able to commune with these wonders was because I was held fast by The One who, bridging The Tree of Life and The Cross, made it all possible in history. I was stabilised by the One who arrived in a stable and made room for me to be in the middle of The Three of them, encircled by The Trinity and occupying the same space harmoniously despite my physical convulsions.

Mid-jerk, it did occur to me that the hold around my middle felt like a belt, intrigued, I glanced down to my middle to see what looked like branches wrapped around me. It was this 'belt' that was holding me together and enabling me to handle being with these Three. It was this belt that helped me to handle the Truth of my place in the Godhead. So this is what the ‘Belt of Truth’ is for....to help me cope with, and be in The Truth....that the Trinity and I are one, the ‘One in Three’ and the ‘Three in One’ are one with me and I with them.

My backer, the 'Life Giver' made a Tree of Life from the most hideous death, creating a corridor between that and the original intent at the beginning to live off the fruit of Life, walking with the source of Life in the cool of the day and held in this age to handle the Truth that ALL has been apprehended and restored for us all.

What a Truth, time to Belt-Up.

Inbetween

On the surface or deep underground
The excavation has been done and
Little remains in those dug out places.


Two ways, two emphases, two flows split by
Above or below, surface or deep, seen or unseen.....
Word or Spirit, Spirit or Word, Word or Spirit.....

A way with an emphasis on just one of these
Cannot continue and has run out of fuel
But, there is a NEW WAY yet unexcavated.


INBETWEEN there is an untouched seam
It sits there hidden, undiscovered
By those who stay above or below it.

There is a place inbetween the lines
Called 'Both And', that meets in the middle,
Neither up nor down but half way.


Here the untouched seam is to be found,
Where two becomes one without compromise,
Where Spirit and Word fuse seamlessly.


We lose our way to find 'The Way'
And remain with 'The Way' to walk
An untrodden path that is not familiar.


'One Way' where we get out of our heads
On the True Head, this is 'The Way'
To begin excavation of the untouched seam.

This seam is full, all resources lie here,
There is more than enough provision
And we will Rest to get the Rest Done.

Mama

The Creator stood before me with imploring arms out stretched and a huge belly out front.

"Do you not think for one moment that I gave birth too?....That I carried as you carry...that I gave birth as you give birth...that I gave birth to the universe and it came out from me?" Sheer exasperation was in The Voice.
I was shocked, gobsmacked, a flood of thoughts began to pulse towards my mind as if they had escaped from somewhere....I stared at this big Mama, squinting my eyes in concentration as realisation slowly dawned; the thoughts one by one, squeezed through my miniscule comprehension like the eye of a needle.

I had noticed a theme where counterfeit deities behind belief systems kept ultimately presenting themselves as female but I had not understood why. Pretenders to the throne...isis, mary, mother nature, queen of heaven...there's loads of them.... If it is the very incarnation and repeated act of birth that speaks over and over of Creator birthing Creation then the very counterfeit reveals this. The imposter takes on this role over and over again like an obsession; pretending to be the Mother, pretending to be The Womb.

….So that is what the deceiver wanted, to be like the Creator and create it's own but it CANNOT. This was the root, the desire to be creator, to create and have the same attention and worship. I want to be like you, 'created' said to 'Creator'.

This attention seeker's hatred is greatest for the womb of God and the life that poured forth from it. Its fixation is to destroy the fruit of that womb and therefore harm the One it came from. Abortion and the knife in the womb takes on a whole new significance. That which was a ‘created wonder’ became a 'Jealousy', thoroughly absorbed with twisting and deforming all life to continually present the darkest of ruinations before the One and Only, to mock and ridicule. The truth is, all that has life belongs to the One Womb and has already been regained by the True Mama by giving Her Son to restore ALL.

No wonder womankind has been so repressed, physically carrying a constant reminder of what the deceiver is unable to do. So this imposter sets itself up as the mama but what a heartless counterfeit.
Solomon’s wisdom revealed the imposter from the Real Mama. Two women came before this king each claiming one baby to be their birth child. Solomon offers to cut the child in half to share between them! The counterfeit mama is delighted with this outcome although the child will die. The Real Mama cries out for the child to live even if it means it goes to the wrong woman.

God is raising up and restoring women to truly embody the Mother heart of God. It will mean navigating the minefield of counterfeits, redeeming the kernels of truth that have been stolen without erring too far to the left or to the right. It is a fine line to be trod. The ONLY way through is intimacy with Jesus and trusting His choreography, not our own. It is an unknown way and there is no map....yet.....we will become the map.

Shumba

Shumba, Shona for Lion

Zimbarbwean, African.

HeadRest

A conflict of interests contends for Headship,

A 'True’ verses ‘self-appointed' head butting

Where the only way to depose our headship

Is to be out of our heads on the True Head.

An intoxicating joy ride of abdication

Where the Head Architect is reinstated

By the contender, who, has ceased endeavour

To self-procure what has already been Done….

The Head is the conductor of the body,
Knowing every part's intricate role
To be played. The Head is the harmony and
The unifying bond between every part.

So if for one fatal vain moment one 'part'
Decides to be The Head, it is deluded
Into an 'Enlightenment' of self-masonry
And the illusion of autonomous operation.

One vain moment becomes a viral vanity
Spreading the belief of plural headship.
Each part in charge in its partial knowledge
And the True Head is contended by its body!

So 'created' questions Creator, denying dependency
In order to have the control and be in charge.
Peoples, their lands and power brokerage
Are infested with this deception on a grand scale.

This deception feeds off its subjects like a cancer
Riddling and exploiting the vanity of self-rightness,
As they strive to make 'headway' through performance
And the delimited science of the known world.

A Headless existence keeping all parts apart
Rather than the original design of One body
Until the ability to default to the real Head

Becomes impossible without a partial lobotomy!

The true Head becomes unknown and unusual.
By default, re-connecting with such a source
Is mind-blowing like a truth opiate transfusion,
Deadening our compulsion to have the control.

We lose to gain, we die to live, we let go and give in,

We quit and give up, we retire and lie down

In green pastures and beside still waters while

Our Head restores our body and soul.

Wave

In all my activity (see 2011 Walks:TreasureChest) there is a context which helps to place my 'micro' in the 'macro'! I have been living with a 10 yr cycle & am highly aware of this context in all I do & see around me....Particularly since the Toronto pour out in 1994....
Firstly, I see 10 yrs between 1997 and 2007 where a wave of labourers toiled in the heat of the midday sun ploughing up the ground. Personally for me, this was a buried time of the grave/tomb, 5 yrs of dying to the old ways followed by 5 yrs of tomb-time, as preparation for the following 10 years.
Secondly, I see 10 years between 2007 and 2017 where a wave of labourers dwell in the cool of the day to open up the old wells. 2011 will be the fifth year of this cycle and the last year before the pivotal halfway marker.

Thirdly, I believe a third 10 yrs cycle will give rise to a
wave of labourers given birth to by the first and second 10 yrs.
See 'Burnt' for more on this.

The First ten year move represents 'Doing/Martha',

The Second ten year move represents 'Being/Mary'

And the Third ten year move will represent

'Doing coming out of Being'.

This will only come about by

Doing and Being coming together.

The two will become one as Jesus and we are One,

To counteract 'control' that divides to conquer.

This will bring together all Three labourers from each decade as one workforce. From this spring board I believe that 70 years on from Smith Wigglesworth's statement in 1947 of 'Spirit and Word coming together' being linked with 'the greatest move of the Holy Spirit the world has ever seen' will come into motion like a wave...

The Third Wave

My sight is on the Third Movement, for The Three in One,

I walk for the Three to come together as the Godhead are One

And I know the key is Intimacy.

Within this context every season counts towards the culmination. Whether fallow, death, emergence or growth, all is being woven together in readiness for the third move/wave when all three decades of workers will join forces as one.
Into this context I see the 'walking' as part of the process, creating new connections across the land, correcting old connections and opening up connection points for Jesus; creating a grid for heavens access and messing up the grid that has been a landing strip for 'control' in this nation over and over again. This will be critical as the Olympics arrive, no talons of control are to find their bearings....all coordinates will be miss matched because the grid of empire has been so messed up.

All it takes is little ol' you and me

With Jesus living in our bodysuits

And messin' with our heads

As His love blows our minds.

If what began in Toronto in 1994 proceeded 3 decades from 1997

Then we could be living in a 33 year vintage, and we all know that

AD33 was the best wine of the bridegroom...Jesus Rocks our World!

Drinking the pure vintage of water into wine fulfillment : Jesus

............and alotta glory on tha feet

Trees

Walking through a heavily populated wood I joined 
a wonderful crowd that had converged. They just seemed to keep coming and I mingled freely as if I knew them, elated at this exquisite rapport. We weaved in and out laughing, sighing, embracing.... moving like a dance. The elation was harmony....so caught up with the music that you forget yourself and become part of the song.... Threading amongst the trees graciously meeting and greeting...Living a high life and enjoying certain popularity in this rich and beautiful set.

Gradually I noticed a presence and as my awareness grew, I stopped still with a distinct feeling directly behind my entire back. I realised its constant presence was attached to me and committed to my every move. A green hue in the periphery of my vision caused me to turn my head as far as I could to see who my 'backer' was. My ear and cheek rested against smooth, cool bark... I was stood with my back to the hugest of trees. 

So, conscious of this delightful companionship I continued to be part of the throng. Fullness radiated through me and the richest of atmospheres poured out before me. I became consumed
with this communion and grew taller, my back melded into this 'Living Tree' and my arms were branch-like as I became one entity with it.

As I stood One with the 'Tree of Life', a river began to pour from my middle and flowed out into the land ahead of me.
It dawned on me.... I was in 'The Garden' and back in the original design of 'Oneness' with the Life Giver, the One from whom all life flows. From thence I walked forward following the river marking out the land, keeping my back to The Tree at all times. That day it rained and rained from the moment I stepped out of my front door. Twenty miles of rivers forming wherever I put my feet. I had named this the 'River of Life' walk and that is what it was.

Wild Island

It is a safe place of pretence in the paddock,

Gelded and tamed as if butter would not melt.

Quietly penned, remaining within the fence

Confined, contained and content to graze.

I see you beneath the lush green paddocks,

The shamrocks, leprechauns and guinness.

Hidden in disguise to appease the unseen force

Of hatred and punishment that still puts the boot in.

A systematic abuse, century upon century

As life-long pay back for your place in history

As a land of poetry, art and song that raised
The True Cross high up on the western edge.

Unpolluted by world umpires and their usury
You naturally provided a way for the cave dwelling

Intimate to be one with Creator and wake up

A world of shadows into the light of a new day.

Desert dwellers on the far eastern edge rejecting

Manmade Babels found the same path as you

As if an underground root joined your lands

With an antidote and in the margins, East met West.

I see you beneath the appearance of dormancy,

A dangerous silence harbouring a volcanic identity

Of unbridled, untamed, undomesticated magnitude

To unsaddle the one rider that has no right on your back.

So I wait wild horse for you to rear up from the depths

And for justice to be served on the heavy sentence

You have endured, because when you finally break the reins

And spit the bit, it will mark the terminal implosion of an unholy empire.

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