Testimony: Through The Blur

I stared at the breakfast plate in front of me – picking at food I couldn’t focus on.

Tired and lacking sleep – my eyes were still heavy and puffy from tears. I didn’t want to be here. Almost anywhere, but here. Then again, I didn’t want to think about the next place we would be driving to.

“Kenzel,  you need to eat” Dad’s voice said from behind me. “Eat so you can take this”- handing me another pill. “Dad, I don’t need it. I’m all cried out. I”ll be fine.”

I looked up at him while held the tranquilizer out for me. “Take it.”

“Dad, seriously, please.”

“Take it.”

I picked the horse size pill out of his hands and looked at it as he walked away.

Tears formed but at this moment they weren’t because I was sad over having to bury Mom. On top of everything, Dad wasn’t willing to believe I would be ok…that I didn’t need the influence of a drug.

I glanced over at my cousin Pam, a specialist as an RN/ER Nurse. She must have observed the situation and her eyes were still fixed on me.

I looked down in shame. She got up from her chair and walked over.

“You know you don’t need that.”

“I know, I told him. I don’t like how it makes me feel either. But he doesn’t believe me when I tell him I’ll be okay” and I took it. Downing the glass of water to wash away the nasty taste.

“He’s dealing with this the best way he knows how to.”

I nodded, still finishing the water.

The tears started to flow, making it hard to see, until they started cascading down my cheeks.

The drive that day from Fife to the cemetery went in slow motion. I kept wishing (and hoping) that I could somehow take my hands and stop the car from pressing forward in motion. Each mile got us closer to an ending I was unprepared for.

The tranquilizer on an empty stomach was doing me no favors.

Finally parked in front of the Mortuary, I opened the door and stare at the ground. Stepping out, I look at the building behind our car and think to myself, “What are we doing here? This isn’t really happening…” Walking towards the door, I can feel my body moving but am not connecting that my feet are in motion.

Is the world spinning? I’m not sure I can feel my jello like legs.

Yes, I am breathing.

Someone opens the door I am staring at – I step in. I’m reminded of the sterile smell of the hospital, but I’m sensing an underlying presence. In a hospital, there is still hope. In a cemetery the only hope is your prayer for eternal salvation.

Wait…this is the same place we came the other day to select Mom’s casket. I wonder about turning back the hourglass.

My head slowly turns as my body follows my feet. I recognize no one. I see a chair in the corner and sit down. Maybe if I sit I will sink into the cushion and translate into a different time and space. Someplace where death is unknown. My opportunity to do so is limited…

Dad approaches me and says “It’s time to go in” (go in where? I think to myself.)

I stand – or try to – and realize I’m under “full” sedation now.

“I don’t know if I can make it back there, Dad.” He and my Aunt stand on either side of me and provide their arms to keep me upright.

How ridiculous and embarrassing this is.

We arrive at and pause outside a room down the hall. Inside, there is a silver casket set up. As I recall, Mom asked for a plain wooden box – but the day we came to purchase it they said they didn’t stock that style. Oh – Nooo…Mom is in that silver casket! I stay on the far side of the room.

I watch as people walk in and one by one walk by – then glance. They touch her folded hands, say something quietly and move on. Some say a prayer and then their good-byes.

I am in a blur. I continue to try and edge closer to her casket but fear steps in and I back away. I finally notice my older brother in front of the casket and I go stand next to him. We exchange soft conversation. He leans over and kisses her forehead. Observing him do that makes me grimace…(for some reason I think of Judas kissing Jesus in Gethsemane. I have no idea why)

Even now, in real time I weep heavily as I recall this.

After he kisses her forehead I slowly reach out to touch her folded hands. The hands that held me tightly after waking from a bad dream. The hands that held my hair back when I had a stomach bug, the hands that made the hurt — hurt less — or not at all.

Her hands are like ice. I am horrified. They are hard, cold, devoid of all that makes God’s created body beautiful. Her ash-gray colored skin is unnatural.

This is not normal. I look at her and think silently “Wake Up.” Nothing, no response. In my mind I think, maybe if I say those words out loud, she will come out of this. I whisper “Wake Up – please?” Still nothing.

I cannot believe I am staring at her. I cannot believe she is not breathing. Living. Loving. Laughing. I do not comprehend how this is possible.

I step away and return to the casket a couple more times. It’s not long before staff enter the room and it’s evident that graveside services will proceed. I walk out before they close the lid.

This is sickening.

I do not recall the graveside ceremony. Apparently I took my camera with me that day (for whatever reason???) because I snapped a picture of the group standing in front of her grave. My Dad was front and center of her burial plot. I have not seen that photo in some time. I do not know if I want to see it.

I recall her Memorial service – she had pre-selected her favorite songs to be sung (Just as I Am, Amazing Grace among them) and I vaguely recall the repast (gathering after the funeral and church service)

The memorial service was rough because Mom raised me in church and I attended with her frequently, having started Sunday School there. To be there in her memory and not have her the physically present felt like a radical paradigm shift.

My (future) sister-in-law drove me home following it. Of all things, Home, was the last place I wanted to be. (It really, really hurts to say that right now, too.) I didn’t want to see all these people in the house, I didn’t want to reflect and talk about Mom, in the past-tense…

I wanted this day to be different, but I had no idea how to direct the GPS. So I did all I could do and asked: Please, God, stop this nightmare…

 


 

I’ve spent a few minutes wondering what kind of visual I could give you to emulate what I felt that week and the weeks and months to follow – even 33 plus years later.

I didn’t want to focus on an actual funeral related scene (like Steel Magnolias) because I need to convey something on a different scale that was more complex. More encompassing.

So, here it is:

Gravity Opening: Incoming Debris

I picked this one because the main characters have a brief warning about impending trouble (my Mom battled her illness for 10 months) and when the first of the unthinkable events happen it is so sudden that, well – just watch, you’ll see.

I also picked Gravity because of the reality that we exist on a planet created by Yahuveh Ahava and this earth is under gravitational force. Out in space all the rules are changed and Ryan and Matt face incredible obstacles and choices in an environment not suited to their nature. The day Mom died…I too discovered all the rules changed and I was thrust into the unknown. Those of you who have lost someone know exactly what I’m talking about.

Related Scriptures:

Part of my healing journey in this Testimony Series is to let Him guide me into His Word (and you as well) scriptures that uncover His Truth amidst the pain, suffering so that I  (we) emerge in victory: healed, stronger and healthier. Please seek Him and ask for greater understanding. His Victory – is Ours. By His Stripes, we are healed.

Mark 7:20-23

Mark 8:22-26

Luke 5:4

Luke 6:21

Luke 9:60

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Testimony Series: Innocence Abducted

Memories are amazing things, making up the essence of who we are.

40 plus years ago, I was a 6 year old minding my own business at a City Park near Tacoma. Four decades might seem like a very long time to recall a memory, but memories that burn emotional holes, that linger psychologically long enough to tear you apart –  need to be told, shared and learned from.

It’s only because of God’s Grace that I am here and it’s out of obedience that I write this. The following, while not explicit deals with HEAVY subject matter. The words I have been given to describe what happened will likely make some very uncomfortable.

Still, writing this is necessary, because somewhere out there, the girls who were suffering likely haven’t been able to let it go either. There are girls and boys today, somewhere going through this RIGHT now.

To ALL girls and boys reading this, to the women and men who have survived into adulthood – I write this for ALL of us. This is not the only story I have to share but the only story that The Father helped me write and is acceptable to post today. Those who have been victimized by sexual predators and JUST survived are only living the shadow of a life they were given…well it is now time to emerge from the shadows and become the Child of God: healed, loved and worthy that He designed, destined and created us for.

This is OUR day and time to RISE.

And now for the Testimony…

 


 

The Seattle – Tacoma area offers some of its best weather during the summer months. It’s the best time of the year to be outdoors.

My Dad regularly brought me with him to watch my brother play his tennis matches. I was just beginning to learn the sport and expected to tag along since Mom was managing the motel.

This particular day, the park we were at had public courts, grassy fields and a children’s playground.

It was generally fun to watch his competitions, I looked up to him and admired his on-court abilities. He possessed a gift and talent for the game. Even at age six, I hoped I could have a fraction of his on court skills; not to mention his success.

Although we had a swing-set at home, I got restless watching his match about half way through. As my eyes started to wander, the swings were calling my name. “Dad, could I go play over there?” and pointed their direction. “Ok, just don’t go anywhere else and make sure you stay within my eyesight.”

I loved swings and being on one made me feel like a bird flying through the air. I could have stayed on a swing all day, probably not unlike most Kindergartners.

Moments after I took my seat, I noticed a man off to the side, leaning against playground equipment, watching me. Of course, he was sizing me and the situation up.

As he gradually approached, he started talking to me. Truth be told, I really don’t remember this portion of the conversation. But, whatever he said, I eventually slowed my swing to a stop and walked across the playground toward the parking lot.

Understand that the swings were still in full view of the tennis court bleachers. I looked over and saw them (thinking I was still “fine”) – however, the parking lot was opposite the bleachers and partially obscured by the gates around the tennis courts.

The man opened the driver’s side door of his car, got in and closed it. I walked up to the door and because he’d rolled his window down was able to lean against it, with my arms across the window shaft.

As he calmly conversed, he went from just sitting in his seat and talking to me to having unbuttoned/unzipped his pants and sitting uncovered. He was holding something in his hands. I didn’t know what he was doing. He described the children (little girls) he had at home waiting for him to bring a new friend to play with. “House” was their favorite game. About this time, as I watched and listened to him, something came oozing out of his hand. Well, it came oozing and he caught it with the other. Then, he reached over for a tissue or cloth and cleaned it up. He kept talking and said he was certain his girls would love my company. His house wasn’t far away, either. He could take me over there now, if I wanted.

I paused, not really knowing what to say. I was just hoping I wouldn’t have to get any closer to the goo I had just seen him wipe off his fingers. Honestly, although vegetables looked gross, this was worse.

“Kenzel, time to go.” Dad’s voice called me from the sidewalk behind the man’s car. I looked over to see Dad walking toward me.

The man had just spent the last five minutes (or more) inviting me over to the house to “play with the girls.” While I am and have been grieved for years that this man needed a child to get his “adrenaline high” while my innocent mind was scorched the fact that I was mostly transfixed (in a trance) by his manipulation, likely saved my life. I also believe the Holy Spirit was there with me placing me in a sort of dazed trance to slow down his intentions and give my Dad a fighting chance to save me.

Having heard my Dad’s voice at that moment, I was able to honestly say, “No, thanks anyway, My Dad’s calling me. I need to go.” I promptly walked away.

Once we were in the car, I know my Dad asked me what I’d been up to and I’m sure the conversation in the car brought any talk of my brother’s tennis match to a screaming halt. My brother didn’t say much and there didn’t seem to be much conversation in the car.

Things got weird when we got home, though. Mom and Dad sequestered me in the family room and gently tried to pry all the details from me. It was one of the most awful talks we’d ever had. Although I had no reason to be scared, I was frightened beyond belief. Every minute I switched from sitting on my Mom’s lap to sitting on my Dad’s lap. I clearly still remember the photographic pictures in my mind from that day. From before the abduction attempt started to the hours after. The conversations also remain, though some of what was said remains “blurred.”

This bad dream is more than 40 years old. It started the moment that guy targeted me for abduction and molestation. 40 years later, the experience has not left me. But I am now about to heal from it…

There isn’t a moment that goes by that I don’t wonder about those “little girls” he spoke of. Were they real or a ploy? Had he molested (or raped) them daily? How long had they been captive? What sort of lies had he told them to manipulate his will?

After Mom and Dad talked with me, the last thing I remember was hearing my Dad describe what I had shared with him. He was on the phone, placing a police report. I felt bad and guilty.

I know that I was victimized by a man who needed help. Yes, I survived. I came home – physically.

Unfortunately, the price of this “short term” event left roots of damage. 40 years later, it’s time to confront it. I will no longer harbor this defilement, because I know I am not alone and because I HAVE Kingdom Authority.

I was not abducted physically, but because the enemy hates children he now had a toe-hold on my soul. I might not have been physically damaged but he abducted me psychologically. I’ve been paying for it ever since. And now I’m through.

So, here is my message to my “Abductor:”

You successfully infringed on the mind and psyche of an innocent child. I don’t know who you are. I don’t know if you’re dead or alive. But I have a message for you:

I forgive you.

You may not think you need to be forgiven, but I need to forgive you

So I can also forgive myself.

Your sin against me, your perversity has kept me in chains since that ill-fated day. But I won’t allow you to keep me locked up anymore. By forgiving you, I give you a chance to seek redemption and I AM cleansed by the Righteousness of Jesus (Yahushua Hamaschiach.)

I AM FREE

Freedom comes at a cost and Jesus already paid that price for me.

Yes, God, I need to heal.

Every child; Every Man and Woman who has been “touched” by the deeds of someone with perverse will and intent – needs to heal.

Please, God (Yahuveh Ahava) Help US Heal.

IN JESUS NAME, Amen.

 

“Fear Not for I AM with you” – Isaiah 41:10

“He heals the broken and binds up their wounds” Psalm 147:3

“I am making everything new! Write this down, for these words are trustworthy and true” Revelation 21:5


 

I wrote the bulk of the above letter probably a couple of years ago. I remembered having written it but not having printed it. I just found the printed version in the last couple of days (September 2017). I will type this up as a blog-post and plan to rip up the printed version as part of the conclusion to healing.

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Warning Dream/Vision Steamroller/Steamrolled

This is from a post earlier this year. I’ve prayed in earnest over it and have received knowledge and wisdom over time. 

However, tonight I’ve received full interpretation as to the symbolism…and when it was given I got so nauseous (still am) and began to weep.

Dream/Vision – 

(Originally titled 

Obstruct)

On Wednesday April 26, around 12:19pm, I was reading the Book of Mysteries and my Bible when I laid down to rest. This is kind of unusual for me mid-day.  But as I set the time for 40 minutes, I heard a soft whisper say, “I’m going to give you a vision.”

I laid down and closed my eyes…ready to just float.

Moments later, just as I started dozing, I saw it. It was a flash that lasted ever so briefly.

I was in a car, I do not know if I was in my car. I do not know if I was the driver. I was on a street I drive everyday. I know exactly where I was.

In front of me appeared a LARGER than life piece of road construction equipment (OR a better visual is equipment used by the Oil and Gas industry when they are working in the fields. I have seen pictures of these types of equipment and they are Gigantic/HUMONGOUS.)

The road I was on is two lanes either direction in addition to a turning lane (and, I am to note, that both in real life and in this dream, just ahead of where I was at is located the “overpass” of a road that runs East/West: 44/66)

This equipment was on my side of the road – taking up BOTH lanes. I was driving Northbound the equipment was heading Southbound. There was one other car ahead of me or in my vicinity, near me.  I have this recollection that the car was white and it was slightly ahead of and, to the side.

It appeared there was no way around this thing without swerving over into the Southbound lanes (or possibly the turning lane) or wait for God’s divine intervention to intercede and move this larger than life monstrosity. But this THING had no business being where it was. In hindsight too, while I was driving it almost felt like in THAT moment time had stopped and there was a “Pause” in the clock.

In the dream, the moment I realized this obstruction was right there – my body jolted me back, I felt this happen and the vision ended. But right before I completely awoke – the weirdest thing happened; I heard the word, “Sutra”

You will notice below that I went looking for understanding of that word.

But here is the interpretation of what I saw.

The equipment in the middle of the road resembled field equipment for oil and gas but in reality it is a “Steamroller” and relates to the book of Isaiah. 

Specifically Isaiah 66. 

Most Specifically I was shown the scripture Isaiah 66:6

As far as the word “Sutra” is concerned I’m now under the impression that the impact of this steamroller will be “thread-like” and have “far-reaching effects.” 

The last scripture I was guided to include tonight relates to the time mentioned above – 12:19

First, look at Rev 19:12..

Then I flipped over to Rev 12 and looked for Revelation 12:19. ..but there is no 12:19.

Revelation 12:18 is the conclusion of Chapter 12 and leads into Revelation 13: The Beast out of the Sea….

Incidentally, someone was driving that Steamroller…

Please take this in Prayer to The Holy Spirit. 

Now I have contemplated that word and what I heard. I looked up it’s definition. “Sutra” is Sanskrit for “thread.” Hmm

Today, I continued contemplating that word. “Why Sutra, why did I hear that word?” Then a couple seconds later (as I’m driving this morning) I start to think…hmm, “Sutra” sounds really close in pronunciation to “Suture.”

I am familiar with the word Suture in general, but I looked it up:

Suture, literally meaning “seam”, may refer to:

I recognized the “surgical suture” definition but the one that surprised me was the geological suture. I’m believing both apply but I haven’t received a full interpretation of what I saw. I think it’s entirely possible the geological suture applies to a massive fault line “triggering” (and maybe more than one.)

Scripture Verses that accompany this message:

I first understood to look up the Book of Isaiah

Isaiah 44

Then I proceeded to look up

1 Corinthians 12:19

Luke 12:19

Romans 12:19

 

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Testimony Series: The Gun

I don’t know what year it was. I was probably older than 7 but less than 10 years old (the only move I ever made with my parents was at about age 12.)

I do know this occurred near Christmas (my Dad had already hung the lights on all the bushes for the season). Dad was at work this particular evening – he was an air traffic controller. Mom and I were home at the motel.

Nighttime at the motel always gave me an uneasy feeling. Which to this day I have yet to fully understand.

The days/evenings when Mom was able to illuminate the “No Vacancy” sign and turn off the front porch office light lifted my spirit some – This was not one of those evenings

I recall sitting in the family room (which was adjacent to the motel office). We had the TV on and Mom was working on her Christmas projects.

Somehow, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed car headlights had turned into the property driveway. I stood and walked out of the family room and over toward the dining room window.

I gently lifted one of the Venetian blinds and peered out. The vehicle (a truck) had pulled up and stopped – out of the sight of the front door but the driver’s side door was directly in front of the window – giving me a clear vantage point.

I watched.

The driver’s side door was wide open. The driver was sitting there…and then pulled out a gun…checked to see if it was loaded and “shoved” it back into a pocket.

I can’t begin to tell you the million and one thoughts that raced through my mind as I observed this. My heart had already started to race back to Mom, it took my feet a few seconds to follow. How could this be happening?

The 20 steps I took back to Mom felt like each foot had 20 pound weights attached. Even though I didn’t know what to say, the words just tumbled out as fear seeped in, “Mom, whatever you do, do not open the door. This person has a gun.”

She gazed up at me calmly and replied “Ok”

I crept quietly out of the family room the ten steps back towards the office foyer and waited with baited breath to the side of the door (its window blinds were closed for evening privacy.)

The doorbell rang. Pause. Then rang again.

I tip-toed further – and back across to the dining room window. I lifted one of the Venetian blinds and again, looked out.

With the front door unanswered, the driver returned to the car, got in and I watched the truck drive away. Making sure it left the premises and turned out onto the Highway.

It took me a while to be able to calm myself and breathe deeply again.

I am grateful that my Mom believed me and that she responded so calmly.

Most important though I’m taking the opportunity now to give Thanks to God and Praise Him for his protection that night.

It’s by His Grace and mercy he kept Mom and I safe.

 

Isaiah 54: 17

No weapon formed against me will shall prosper.

 

Revelation 19:6

Hallelujah!

Amen Amen and Amen

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Audio Podcast

Audio Recording of Psalm 7 Sep 20, 2017 12:25 Psalm 7

2:11 in length

http://www.podbean.com/media/share/pb-euxau-7411b7

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Testimony: The Autograph

My first racquet was labeled a “Chris Evert.” It’s not difficult for me to remember that because when I first started learning to play tennis she became my role model.

I recall watching every televised match I could find in which she was telecast…I really admired her.

In this moment, I just an an epiphany. In this moment I have been humbled to seek God’s Forgiveness.

Here’s Why:

I was just given a very vivid memory.

My Dad took me to see an exhibition match at the Avon Championships of Seattle. I think this was around 1981. We went to watch Chris compete and after her match was over we sped down from the audience seating to the Seattle Center’s hallways. We were just two among throngs of “fans” waiting to catch a close up glimpse.

Someone next to me was holding some paper. I asked what that was for? They replied “Autograph.” I’d never though of getting an autograph, it had never occurred to me. I don’t remember if I asked or she offered first but I ended up with a blank piece of pink paper.

Next thing we knew, Chris appeared among the “throngs” of people.

Here I was a child tennis prodigy staring into the face of a sports celebrity. I’m embarrassed to admit this but I recall very little about this “autograph” moment. I took one look at Chris and my mind went blank.

My Dad had been standing nearby observing the whole thing and described it in detail. Somehow, even among the large group of admirers vying for her attention I ended up almost right in front of her. My eyes and mind were so fixated on her though that it was like I got pulled int a bizarre trance. I held up my slip of paper to her – but with no pen.

Dad said she looked at me and could see her mouth the words “do you have a pen?” but laughed softly when she realized I had wouldn’t be able to respond because I had become locked in a stunned gaze (mild shock). This was the moment when Dad snapped the picture of me about two feet from her.

Chris Evert was my mom’s favorite (tennis) athlete to watch on television. She asked that I always strive to maintain an on court persona and demeanor similar to Chris: Calm, focused and graceful.

What I completely missed as an innocent youth was that while Chris was a wonderful role model not to lose sight of truth.

The process of this person going from being my “role model” to being an “idol” didn’t happen overnight because when I started learning how to play tennis I was only three. My first competition occurred when I was six.

It’s taken me a long, long time to see that

God created Chris.

God created Me.

We are both special and unique. Just like you gentle reader, none of us can be replaced.

And maybe in hindsight my first lesson in this testimony writing experience starts here. That I have, in the past created idols in my heart or mind. God says we are not to i-d-o-l-i-z-e anyone or anything but Him, right? (Exodus 20:3)

In closing, I failed to recognize that by idolizing this sports figure (even with the most innocent of intentions) I was losing sight of who I was made to be. Rather than understand what I could bring to the game and world of tennis, I got “sucked” into a false reality of seeking fame, fortune and pride…

I won’t bother crying over spilled milk but The Father’s intent is for me to acknowledge the error and ask for forgiveness regarding His 2nd Commandment: You shall make no idols

(it doesn’t matter if it’s a tangible item or something we hold as value.)

Father, forgive me…I repent.

Posted in Testimony

Why The Earth Shakes

Years ago, someone asked me a question that I don’t think I ever answered because I honestly wasn’t sure I could.

She asked, “What does the voice of God sound like.”

It was a strange question because I thought I’d never heard it.  

Well, that’s partially true.

The truth is WE ALL hear from Heaven…it is usually Jesus (Yahushua) communicating to us via the voice of His Holy Spirit. Some of you are likely to laugh out loud as you read the words just written.

But let me now add this…do you recall hearing the words “Go ahead – make my day…?” Well, imagine those words not being uttered by Clint but by God The Father Almighty – HIMSELF.  Trust me – you don’t want to challenge Him and cause him to respond in that manner.

I don’t utter that most familiar phrase above lightly because I have a rather serious message to share with each of you taking the time to read this.

I now realize, over the course of my lifetime…that the Holy Spirit has been hard at work, trying to get ALL of us to pay attention. If you don’t know much about the Holy Spirit, He is located central within our bodies (your likely aware of the term “gut instinct”? but he also resides in our mind and the best description is the sixth sense). He exists there because as created beings of God we are able to make Him our sole focus – This was by His design.

Anywho, This post is not my idea…but it goes in tandem with the Testimony He has directed me to start writing. And I have been directed to add this additional post to affirm something God (Yahuveh) promised in scripture a very long time ago….(Scripture states that HIS WORD will not return void. Isaiah 55:11)

Here is what you need to know. There IS a difference between Jesus Voice and that of The Father: make no mistake.

Point of reference:

Yesterday, as I was seeking time with Yahushua…He gently reminded me that though I’d finished the recent projects I’d been given that I needed to resume the original assignment I’d received (this assignment was given to me about a year and a half ago.)

It was at the moment I replied, “Really?” that it happened.

God’s voice entered in…and let me tell you…when you HEAR it; YOU CAN’T MISS IT. Because it will leave you SPEECHLESS and STUNNED

Friends, that voice…has no earthly way to describe it. I now FULLY understand WHY He gave us Jesus.

God is our MAKER – and Jesus is our Friend, Intercessor, Advocate. Do you recall in the Bible (Phil 2: 10-12) where it says that “Every knee will bow?” and that we are to work out our salvation with “fear and trembling” (Psalm 2:11)

Yesterday, right after I uttered “Really” – HE in fact responded. “I have told you to write. You do not write alone but you are not excused from this directive.” (at this moment I may have gasped.)

I think that is what He said – it’s relatively close and the reason I am challenged remembering is that HIS voice is like NO Other. His voice is commanding, consuming and a force of power not to be reckoned with but WE are to approach in reverent fear (fear and trembling.)

As a footnote, this was the best I could do for a response. My voice became like that of a tiny mouse and I replied with a very high pitched and extremely timid: “oh-kay”

A million thoughts went through my mind yesterday after this affirmation:

I instantly understood HOW “God Spoke” in ALL of Genesis 1. There is a reason that it happened…HE JUST DOES.

God SPOKE through Jesus when he rebuked the waves and the disciples acknowledged this. (Matthew 8:23-27) HE JUST DOES

And Jesus says directly “Every knee shall bow before me and every tongue shall confess/praise/acknowledge God” (Romans 14:11) HE JUST DOES. HE WILL. Period.

On top of that, as He spoke, my legs trembled and Holy Fear surged in me. In that moment, I realized that God has command of ALL his creation, no matter how much we might want to think otherwise.

Even if it doesn’t seem like He is in control – He is. He is. HE. IS.

God is NOT messing around. He doesn’t want us messing around. Do not squander your time.

He is The Almighty God. The ONE who was. WHO IS. AND IS TO COME.

So, HOW do you know differentiate the voice of God? ASK Him. HE will make sure you CANNOT MISS IT. Jesus voice IS gentle and calming but He also carries God’s AUTHORITY and as such He carries the same FULL WEIGHT and power.

God made the Universe and He did this with THAT voice. NO ONE WILL ESCAPE from having to account for every THOUGHT you think, for EVERY DEED or ACTION you make and HOW you TREAT others.

And as far as the title of this post is concerned; if God decided to, He could make the earth shake by simply commanding it to. 

The Earth and everything in it IS His. 

He is trying to get our attention. How far will He have to go to make that happen? 

Earnestly SEEK Him and PAY Attention. (Jeremiah 29:13)

 

 

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Audio Podcast: Psalm 6

Recording of Psalm 6 KJV Sep 19, 2017 08:54

http://www.podbean.com/media/share/pb-prpsz-73e490

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Testimony – Part I – The Genesis

If you’ve ever read the Book of Genesis in the Bible, you may recall the Words “In the beginning God created…” from Genesis 1:1. A little further along in Genesis, specifically Genesis 1:3, God speaks and says “Let there be Light.”

I am diving into Part 1 of this testimony for three reasons. 1) When God tells you to do something, you finally discover that the sooner you start the assignment the closer you are to getting it done. 2) I am His created being, and as you will soon read 3) He has spoken.

While I was in prayer this morning I was just basking in His presence. Generally, that’s a good thing to do…except that earlier in the morning He’d told me to do something specific and as of that moment I had not started working on it.

I will give you a sampling of the conversation:

“Daughter, do you recall the directive The Father gave you this morning regarding your next task?”

“Um…yes, I do…why?”

“Do you recall how long it took you to finish the last projects I gave you? I assigned them in March – but you didn’t start them until July and just finished them recently. Do you really want to keep The Father waiting?”

(You should have seen the look on my face…not to mention the thoughts racing through my mind…)

“Lord, was He serious about that directive?”

“As serious as He was when He formed you in your mother’s womb. You have much to do and the longer you take, will only cause a further delay…”

So, gentle reader…here I am with my hands on the keyboard recognizing that I can accept the task at hand and move forward or continue as my own stumbling block and not take God at His Word.

Here goes:

 

I was born in the late 60’s. The youngest of four. The most interesting part about my youth is probably that I grew up in a motel. My parents owned and managed it. I never thought much about the fact that I was raised in a motel – but prior to writing this morning I looked up the word “motel” to understand the meaning of the word.

It’s kind of interesting as I contemplated its meaning. A place to stay the evening. To lay your head from travels. A place to rest from travels.

I’m going to add an additional “spin” to the above definition. Actually, I acknowledge this as a Word of Knowledge (because there is no way I could come up with this on my own)

Mo-tel:

Mo = motion

tel = telling about about it

Not only was I raised in a motel, but the motel in some ways set the stage for the rest of my life. I spent much of my youth in a car in motion and now find myself sharing stories “from the road” of life. 

 

As the youngest of four, my eldest Sister was 20+ years older than I was (just starting college) and Mom and Dad had two teenage boys at home with a new baby.  Once I was old enough, my Dad “toted” me along with him wherever he went with my brother(s). Which was usually tennis related. My oldest brother received a college scholarship and my other brother was working his way up the amateur tennis ladder.

By the time I was old enough to run around as a toddler, Dad had me on the court fetching tennis balls for him so that he could keep me active and still coach my brothers.

Then one day, it happened. They were taking a water break from practice and my Dad had placed his racquet “net-side.” I was three years old when I saw it resting there. Next thing I knew, I had picked it up and started swinging it; my Dad paused from his break and observed my toddler antics.

The following weekend he took me to buy my 1st racquet.

(God’s plan takes “root” with a mustard seed, the smallest of all seeds. See Matthew 13:31-32)

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The Testimony – Introduction

I have started and stopped writing this story more times than I can tell you. My initial attempts were back in 1987/88

Back then, I thought I knew enough and figured I had something to share.

It’s now 2017, and I continue to struggle to put literal/physical pen to paper…

A few years back I was “determined” to write MY story and publish a book. I tried to give myself incentive by writing during “Nanowrimo” (National November Writer’s Month) however, a short time later – I received Holy Spirit insight that I needed to “Lay the book down.” Feel free to read about it here: Writer’s Wisdom

I was so sad and downtrodden.

Little did I know back then that the reason I wasn’t supposed to write was that my motivation for doing so was all wrong.

My original goal in writing the book was to finally become an AUTHOR and make a name for myself as a “professional writer.” In theory that doesn’t sound so bad, except that I found out the wasn’t God’s goal for my life and I have since learned how misdirected that original goal was…

My story is really God’s Story – it is HIS-Story of me. That being the case writing a book required me to put God at the forefront, even if it is about the life that I’ve lived. My life exists because He created me. That means He gets all Glory. He gets credit for the good and He helps me heal through the heartbreak and sorrow…He will do the same for you.

But most important – He is initially asking me to work WITH Him on this. He wants it written on this blog to reach as many people (virtually) as possible so that everyone who is hurting and broken can read about the God who Loves EVERYONE.

This story is not easy for me to tell – to share. Every step I take, I will have to take with him leading me. Frankly, I cannot do this alone.

He has also had me start this blog so I can do things “His Way.” This time around He is bringing people to it. I am not sharing the url with anyone.

This time Father – I look to you for guidance, healing and the touch of your Holy Spirit to restore and sanctify….and I ask that you give me the strength to write what you give me and the words to with which to fulfill this task.

In your Holy Name, Jesus, I pray that your Will be done…

Amen

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