Could Wilderness Be A Beautiful Place

Ever wanted to go to the ‘wilderness’. Let me share with you a new thought about this place that is working in me.  

Adam and Eve lived in a place called the Garden of Eden where they moved about with wild animals.  And the story in Genesis makes it plain that Satan dwelt there as well for from his temptation Eve then Adam caved.  But the beautiful story tells of how Adam 'walked' with God and was honored to name these beasts and call it good.  Somehow I have a hard time thinking Adam was in a tree horrified with terror at the animals before him while giving each one their name.  I see him as God’s helper, touching and being amazed at what was before him, (just a thought but can you see it?).  

When Moses was in the ‘wilderness’ they had amazing provision and miracles we often fail to notice because we honor the bad somewhat like the media does today.  Can you imagine waking to have your own agenda and not being forced to make bricks.  Playing with your children, going to see grandpa instead of being whipped for looking off from duty assigned.  Sharing stories and recalling what was just over the trees afar.

So here is what really gets me… !  In Mark 1:12 & 13 (NIV) it speaks of how Jesus was taken to the wilderness for 40 days and night (Moses had 40 years in wilderness).  Satan tempted or had conversation with Him and this I have often been taught about. 

But what I was unaware of was where each translation and paraphrase I can find speaks of how Jesus was WITH the WILD animals, AND the angels ministered or attended to Him.  Angels attending… awesome; but WILD ANIMALS as companions….hum, this sounds peaceful to me…. !  

So with the imagination and grace God gives me, I’m left with wondering… so where is and what is the ‘wilderness’ really???

Being Right Is Ugly

Learning there is no other place, my Redeemer, I come weeping.  Sobbing from twisted ankles, broken heart, weak from sickness I can’t find a cure.  Finding offenses that bury me in anger and something within that wants its screaming way to explode for it has been convinced it will solve the wrong. 

Can I stay with You, can I come in, my thoughts beg; for I am confused in offenses, so turned upside down with what side of this fence to climb? Trust speaks sweetly with confidence and then turns, and I find it is not trust at all but as if the face I saw was dark instead.  Sour, my soul becomes, so sour with its troubled words tumbling from my lips; running faster than I can keep up with, such raised heat of anger. 

And most often, what I wouldn't want for anyone happens - a wall cements itself between lives, and in marches the guards ready to lay you to sleep in forceful self-assurance

I am right 

and all others are wrong. 

Being ‘right’ is ugly, bruising, and competitive with hostility as its weapon.  

Blinding as if the sun is at its brightest, shining directly into your eyes…nothing is seen clearly.  

But love takes what is Good in the sight of You Lord and stops the train that wants destruction.  Love answers wrongs with a scale built to dissolve the storm clouds rushing in to bring destruction at every path it takes.  

Love gives way to throw a stone if one has no darkness hidden in their own secret existence.  Love divides quickly good and bad and is careful to consume the good and block only the piece that is scared with the enemy’s deception.  Love is a language full of questions, but peace to calm if chasing its provisions.

Wisdom is my cry; for waking from stress to the Word that gives life like a new day is the finale of wisdom.  Removing locks you did not realize had its hold; releasing the name given another with such fresh beauty to the soul rather than buckling over to the pain it once carried.  

A beginning untold begins; for a new story of amazement is on the lips of those who find pardon or give pardon.  

Pardon announced, dancing begins.  The Spirit has wooed hearts to unity perfectly fitting with Father, Son and Himself; now seeing a picture of Trinity’s work.  

Oh how good it is, as Jesus declared, that Spirit would come.  How rich are those who find Spirit a friend to guide and draw in His discipline.  How enormously loved are those Discipline walks and sleeps with. 

Desire Records My Every Word

To think I speak and it is heard, every word, can be so above what my mind catches.  Often it feels just the opposite; my words are not heard, I am only here to listen as others conversation holds the interest of all those around me.  

But creation has found my existence of such importance, I am recorded under such desire, I am brought to this very moment of time for pleasure.  

Pleasure being also my hope, I too find this emotion of high appeal.  Loving and accepting love as part of an exchange that keeps my life worth staying.  Pleasure that gives my day an aspiration to mark it as critical among the many I've been allotted.  Jealousy holding this fire of such passion causing words to burn forth and color the pages of my diary.

My words between my words, those floundering to create a move of thought as I focus to give a picture with my gathered speech, also recorded so the total of my character is expressed beyond the pretty forms I can come up with.  For even my thoughts take on substantial expression when the work of extreme love considered all my potentials that I find His altogether lovely place.

Dare my whole being jump into this realm so massive, where perfect gives a new city to walk.  

Where the fight has only a melted memory, for life now is forever and not measured.  Everything within dazzles all nerves created to enjoy the senses, texture, impressions, this ambiance of force of no push or pull.  

To be - is enough, to watch - is enough; to feel trust, to give a promise of yourself without uttering a word.  

Words no longer pound as they insist to be used; but it’s as if they are floating from a far, coming to delight me with the treasure of full meaning so I can connect them for a bigger picture.  Like picking the best of the apples from a beautiful tree so a delicious pie can be eaten together with others.  

Dancing with words as they form a scroll treasured and making a splash of love to strike His throne to One so illuminating with what love beats out from.  A record is made of songs I sing.  Angels are quick to sing such wonders from the heart of mankind.  Anxious to tell of how the teachings of Jesus expand to show the Father to those on earth.  Awaiting for each soul to make the creation of words cause them to enter His gates so angels can applaud in great loud thunderous music to One who sits upon the throne.  

Pride shining as this One looks about to see the sight of such worship among all creation. Words from my heart...!  He loves me.

His Spirit Is Sure Not Human

All factors or aspects of God have become my amazement.  

His Spirit, that Jesus said He would leave us when He goes, is here; but it’s sure not human as we started.  Jesus even said we would do greater things after He is gone as we are empowered by this Holy Spirit.  You mean than walking on water, multiplying lunch for thousands, raising a dead loved one?  Greater than these few examples? 

But this fire, this Spirit that is poured upon us, not made as human yet working within and around human, is available to us.  

Experiencing times I would define as if I were pierced with higher power, greater strength or enlightened to do what I couldn't a few minutes earlier, I can only say it is not controlled or manipulated; but moves at its own will as any fire does when the Wind (God) blows.  Even now I hesitate to speak of it and the total reasoning is not real clear except what if I speak wrong, what if I tell it without clarity for I am but a learner of its wonders.   

So often I feel like the blind man who was healed and knew not why or who Jesus was, but just that someone came by and healed him when he asked.  Questioned by many, he could only say “he came, told me to wash out my eyes, and now I see.”  I can so relate to this type of grace as I push in to find out who and what this story tells.  

Or I love the story of Zacchaeus, the chief tax collector, in the sycamore tree trying to see this man/God Jesus.  Who was He, what did He look like?  Which man was he among all the people?  Stopping to look up, Jesus must have smiled with such compassion as He tells him He wants to eat at his house today.  Full of my own folly, I often see myself like this small structured man of stand off curiosity; hungering so deeply to find Him among the crowd, in creation, following this wondrous Spirit that encounters my heart with such extreme passion.  

Learning what Word says since I was a child; but experiencing what or how this effects my life is fascinating.  

Could it be this simple, could it be such that it only takes a curious surrendered heart?  I believe so and I believe He placed that curious heart within so that He could continually grant new revelations to fill my eyes with more love and questions to keep me going.  No matter who you are or what judgment you or someone else place on you, He answers with new pieces of His amazing puzzle as we delight in His beauty.  

Going to the great and small, Spirit simply says, “Wanna come?”  Jesus continues to build His kingdom from surrendering curious hearts.  Our questions explode as He grows and stirs within … how come, where will it, which is better, when do I, etc, etc, …!  

If I Could Go To Your World

If I knew how, 

if I could find, 

if I could go to Your world, 

my heart says I would be there 

so fast I would not recognize 

when I made the decision to do so.  

My love burns 

for what I have tasted in this place, 

this lift to my soul 

that rocks away every care.  

Oh how wonderful 

it sounds and feels 

to the weak mind 

and the weak heart.  

Like the pillow one lays upon 

to drift into sweet dreams,  

I sink into my yearning 

cupped with tears of please come.  

Begging to be excused 

from earth’s call, 

so I might lay eyes upon love 

that whispers sounds 

changing my life 

from each syllable uttered within.  

Hear my push and shoving heart; 

hear my voice with silent sounds

that sends pleas to heaven of my desire 

to lay in this pasture so green.  

I have no other want or cry, 

I have no other love, 

there is no other story 

but to want for more 

of this breakthrough 

You designed for Your entrance.  

I want to soar in Your sight

as it connects my being to Yours.

I want to see You knocking 

and I will come running 

to unlock all fears.

I have seen enough that I am watching

for every opportunity to be in this Song.

To float upon its perfect pitch

as the Word speaks healing.

Oh how wonderful 

it sounds and feels 

to the weak mind 

and the weak heart.  

Unable To Catch The Story Of Jesus

Poppa with sincere Heart to respond to our cries, I lift my thoughts to You. 

I see other broken hearts besides just my own.  

Screaming from our justified stand, out comes our truth covered in the souls language “I am right.”  Frown lines upon our brow, we offer to clean up the world for you.  Striking at a target with hopes it will ease the pain of offenses, or give eye for eye or tooth for tooth satisfaction.  

Unable to catch the story of Jesus going to the tax collectors home for dinner attitude, we scream…. but it is our taxes he is taking..!!!  I can’t sit beside him, he is killing me.  

Take us deep into the love note written on the ground to the women caught in her sin.  Show us how to tell each other, “GO AND SIN NO MORE!” 

Love me so deeply that I weep for others when they sin against me, not scheme steps to make them fall like they made me fall.  

I see pain, pain so buried in self-protection rather than God protected; it discolors the face with deformed gladness. Blinded is the one it claims, only seen by others around them as it carries out the poison of their soul.  

Jesus came to bring peace on earth, truth to replace confusion.  

When we decide it is time to overthrow the money-changers, help us make sure first we have given time after time for hearts to hear the Way of love as vividly exposing our lifestyle.  

Shower us in Your unmerited love and favor so that we are so plump we cannot help but spill it over to others in our life.  Love that saves us from destruction we seem to head for.  

Keep praying Jesus, 

keep praying for my mind to be like Yours, 

for my walk to express God’s love, 

for my talk be only 

the Words of Poppa’s.

Tourest Who Gather To See Your Work

King of glory, King of heaven and earth, how simple my words are and yet I search all of them to find what flows so freely inside. 

From the break-down of an atom to the assembling of millions ordered to fascinate Your own creation, I find my own yearning to see it all.  Be a part of the tourist who gather to find Your work before them. 

Master of all displays, You own all that I childishly call 'mine', and yet You are so kind to give me more. Crying out this morning for heaven to come down as I am here, upon earth, but such passion for heavenly treasures. 

As I played the keyboard and sang my prayers, I beheld so many of my failures, my broken heart spreading its poison among others. But I still cry out, I still want for the kingdom of Your love upon me.  Praying, "OPEN THE HEAVENS" as the keys began to pound harder and harder.

Captain of a host, come, for I am on earth and Your treasures are not of this world. Deep, I cry, deep I want to go so I am not subject to my own broken wing and crippled by my opinions running a heart that belongs to You.

And suddenly in comes the sights of heaven as my eyes shut so as not to be distracted by earths appearance.  Loud and clear comes the Name, Jesus, riding on the fierceness of mighty white horses, like a storm of wind mightier than any wall standing to control its path. 

Your Name wraps itself about me, forming a garment and gives a display of beauty unclaimable by any man of earth, yet its pleasure is to wrap about all mankind. 

Praise comes forth and heaven declares He is a garment of Praise.  Over and over as it builds, His Name, Jesus, is a garment of praise. What a sight to see garments, His garment wrapped about His body. Giving His kingdom boarders to be heaven upon earth. 

The keys of my keyboard begin to dance just like the keys of my computer play.  For all of earths trinkets are but ways to show His glory if the heart has eyes for heaven.  There is no 'mine' when the body dances to His song and yet His total creation is given to share within the kingdom of His Son. 

So I dance as His garment of praise wraps me in worship that floats with lightness unexplainable. For my movement is not for the eye of man, but for the Eye that sees this child and covers me in love so abundant, His kingdom has come on earth as it is in heaven.

Who is like Him? No one.  A fountain of life, giver of every good and perfect gift.