Reflecting over life today, and taking some moments to be thankful to Yeshua for answered prayer, his protection and guidance, and for hope—for who He is as well as what He does.
I see the beauty of Papa’s heart reflected in creation. I see the gold of His motives in the sunset and His grace spilling out across the sea…
Sweaty palms, uncontrollable shaking, heart racing, self fragmenting. Restriction squeezing breath from lungs. Not seeing through eyes, but rather, through panicked, crackling frequencies of flick-flick-flick-flickering light… but there is a way out.
The old has gone and the new has come. Yesterday’s buds (revelations, being wise in our own eyes, churchianity, christianese, and ‘right’ inspirations) are now withered, and are being pruned away for fruitfulness. Newness is budding on the branches of the Vine.
…most wars are incensed and driven by propaganda through news media sources, entertainment, and (now) social media algorithms… but do we need to oblige propaganda in this way?
Being a child of our Heavenly Father is simple: we get to place our hand in His and copy what He does.
I don’t know how it happened, but slowly, like a dripping tap and without me being even a teensy bit aware of it, my eyes had wandered from Jesus and onto a plethora of other things. I had lost my first love. The flame in my belly had waned to but a few coals and the flicker of life had all but disappeared…
How do we see the new spiritual landscape we already intuit by the Spirit of God? Where is it? And how do we get there?
I was in the heart of Melbourne sitting in a Max Brenners, enjoying the company of two brilliant friends and the exorbitance of chocolate deliciousness (!), when something landed on my head. Thinking it was a bug, I did a miniature freak-out dance as I attempted to swipe / flick whatever was on my head, off…
The Son of God has a name. His name is not ‘source’. It is not ‘spiritual essence’. It is not ‘an ascended master’. His name holds the highest of importance.