"There is something delicious about writing the first words of a story. You never quite know where they'll take you." - Beatrix Potter
The first time I encountered this place/room, just walking inside took my breath away. The small room was no bigger than a storefront. A small-framed man was sitting at the back of the "shop" working on a table. I melt each time visiting this lovely suite. Stationed in the center lies a square, bakers-height table/cabinet, white painted wood with carved moldings, four drawers on each side. Hung above the cabinet there is a piece of framed latticework for display, laid and arranged with cream ribbons, white ribbons and draped antique laces. Set on the counter-top of the drawer case were different size bowls; marble urns; open metallic boxes containing pearls, diamonds, and gems, all sparkling clear. There were white on white, cream to creamy, velvet's and bows and hand beaded things. Built into the far wall to the right of the entry, from floor to ceiling, were large drawers with beautifully painted words in cursive writing identifying the items within the drawers: No handles or knobs, just slight cutaway handholds like an old flour bin. The room reminds me much of the ribbon shop (Millinery) in the movie “Pride and Prejudice” where the Bennett sisters ran into Mr. Wickam while shopping for ribbons and notions for the upcoming ball at Netherfield Park. It felt like I had been there many times, before.
Crazy fact, not months after I finished the manuscript of this book I found myself walking some very familiar paths in England.
Arrive in Lacock village and you could be forgiven for thinking you've just entered the scene of a recent battle or turned up to meet Mr Darcy for a dance at the assembly rooms.
World war II reenactment; P 38 Lightning
"International" haulers (H5) lined up in a row. Faithful herding dogs on hospitality duty, Binder stealing the show in his olive green Sargent's shirt. Situated behind Matt's display are the hardcore re-enactors with their set-up military city; tents, flagpole, cots, bedding, baseball mitts, "playing radio," supply tents and gear, authentic signs, medallions, and badges, including their attire. History well represented, girlfriends dressed as Rosie the Riveter.
"Tangerine" (on the song charts in 1941, written by Johnny Mercer & Victor Schertzinger; see fun lyrics and link on the reference page).
Living from eternity on earth. God, You are stunning! Don's mom Mary, was standing next to her beloved brother and we all hugged. She looked just like the pictures from her younger years that I had seen: intelligent, slim figured, full of wit and beauty. I noticed Harry reaching into the shirt pocket of his flight suit and then, with a grinning gesture, he handed me his wings. Through most of this encounter, my cheeks have been wet, as King Jesus unravels my heart. Heaven and earth have met with me inside the cockpit of that P-38 Lightning. I asked the Lord if "mantles" were given via marriage covenants. He just smiled at me as I said "Duh"! We do not fathom the realms of relationship and responsibility that He very much desires in our maturity. Unless He shows us, we agree and obey.
It has taken years of fighting the good fight of faith and believe in the spiritual realm He opened my eyes too. In times like these, it is difficult not to feel a bit of soulish sense of regret that wouldn't serve me very well. The humility that I am finally following through, following my scroll, using the perceptions that Jesus gave me, is worth a thousand lifetimes.
Item #6 Pilot wings added to my Valentine Window Box collage.
Framed and hanging in my husbands den. A familiar part of our household, I've dusted it many times.
2nd Lieutenant Harry Dowd: his & other brave hero's story is found in this book
July 17, 2017
A tiny Trail off the Rabbit Trail: Connecting all the little dots in the spirit takes nothing less than a “spiritual” company of help. Back in Chapter #8 Vulnerable Focus: Within the pages of the inner library encounter, Jesus and I were sitting on the face of time, He asked for the little book and had me to turn to page 93. I read, July 17, 2017, Completed. (07/17/17) Written in red. Do you remember? For those of you detailed people, you didn’t forget. One of the hidden purposes of the Lord for me to have my manuscript completed by that date was so that I would be available to take a crazy road trip with my brother Matt. Spending time with him at the reenactment open the door for an invitation of a 6-day trip to drive across country to deliver and pick up more World War II memorabilia. I completed the manuscript task well on time and was traveling that day in the heart of the US with two herding dogs at my feet, spending quality time with my brother. Make sure you catch some of the pictures on the website blog. Guaranteed to put a smile on your face. I have an unusual family and to tell the truth I blend in with them quite well. At times!
Armored order of angels: wakey wakey continues. My husband Don is a master technician. One-side to the benefits of having a mechanic in the house, acquiring cars is never an issue. The other side, is timely repair, versus "infinite" storage. At the time, I was driving an adorable old white Saab convertible. The top was a little worse for wear, and it had a great sound system, with an iPod adapter. Pinch me I'm in heaven. Year round the top of my car was open if it wasn't raining; during the winter, seat heaters turned on high. Tunes cranked. I was born a convertible girl. It was a beautiful late spring day in Oregon, with my faithful little Yorkshire terrier companion, Nikki. Early in the morning, a friend of mine had invited us for a walk along the Willamette River. I gathered my checklist: water, snacks, beach chair, and Nikki and I were on our way across town. I was cruising southbound through downtown Corvallis, music loud, top down on the car, just about to pass the historic Benton County Courthouse.
The last time I hollered Wakey Wakey!
Family Camp, Timothy Lake, The Spirit of Moses
And there is the annual "family camp": Providential or sending chills down your spine, five days, no showers only outhouses, campfires, sleeping in a tent; well those of us without an RV. More dogs than family members, an overdose of cured pork, and grandma always wants us to move the gazillion-pound park tables closer together. Families are an ever-changing foundation we call love, with a few other emotional tics in there. My folks, through there RV-ing "Recreational Vehicle" years, have graciously reserved a group campsite at Timothy Lake (Mt. Hood range,) closing in on twenty-seven plus years. It has been a re-occurring event ever since "Bob" was in a box! That's an inside joke for when my niece, Geordie, was a wee babe on her first camping trip. Her folks put her in a cardboard box because there was no elbow room next to the fire. It was raining cats, dogs, and elephants and all the young moms were holding toddler size jeans and boots over the fire which was covered with a fraying blue tarp. Oh, the memories. As a family, we have tried, off and on, a few other camping locations but returned to the peaceful, non-motorized lake with so many activities accessible in the shadow of magnificent Mount Hood.
Benjamin Angel testimonies
My Garden with Father
I was enjoying a season of cultivating a Kingdom that I was no longer in denial of or hiding its glories. I came out of the spiritual "closet." If someone asked me honest and hungry questions, I shared my encounters freely. Church, though significantly smaller, was walking through a season of repentance and change. We had a tremendous mess to clean up: a spiritual mess. Areas we had partnered with man's design that had nothing to do with the kingdom. Leadership, finances, coverings that didn't look anything like what we were now experiencing in heaven. In my personal "spiritual" garden I sat with the Father on the front steps of a grand brick home. Two stories, white shutters, right out of my love for all things Jane Austin. It was my gateway of first love, where the temple door from Ezekiel's vision exists. I am the gate, and my head is lifted up. Your garden and dwellings are kindred to your likes and dislikes. We'd talk, Father God and I, Jesus would show me other places in heavenly realms, I'd bring the encounter back to talk with Father and plant it in my garden. This Kingdom within me was growing and building my confidence in the spirit.
Then one encounter day, I was treading water and who do you think comes walking on water towards me? Jesus! Sometimes you just have to laugh at the similarities of Jesus acting just like Jesus in the Bible. He is a living Type and Shadow. Haha! He offered me His hand, pulled me up out of the water and now I'm standing on the water with Him in the middle of what seems like an ocean. I can barely see the shores on the horizon. Well, what's a good question to ask Jesus now? I asked Jesus about my "Destiny Scroll." Seems a bit pertinent after flooding your spiritual near and dear (treasures,) I'd say? Asking, “can you remind me again of where I am going,” Jesus reached into the invisible sky around us and pulled a glass screen, as if it had been hidden in a secret envelope all this time, and set a window for the scene. Mind you, we are still standing "on" the ocean. But there it is, my own private, ocean-side-view, "spiritual" white-board. He had my undivided attention. Then He, Jesus, reached over, putting His hand inside my heart, and pulled out my scroll. So similar to an architect spreading the blueprint open to view the plans. He proceeded to pin "my scroll" to the white-board/screen. Joining in, we uncoiled and spread this rolled up parchment, Jesus queuing me by grabbing my hand to hold up the opposite side. Brilliantly it stuck like paste, with I-don't-know-what, and it adhered to the transparent white-board. "In the middle of the sea, and my garden flooded." Aah!
Rungs on a ladder
Perspective revelations: I opened my computer the other morning, and something caught the corner of my eye, an insignificant gem, hidden in the beautiful architecture of historical library pictures I chose for screen-savers. Not an encounter, yet? My Screensaver. I did a Google search to see if I could find the name and location and was unable to retrieve information about this historical photo, regal library room, dusty old books housed on cherry wood bookshelves, floor to tall ceiling. Each aisle of shelves had a portable ladder, attached and able to slide on ladder-tracks connecting to the roof of the gallery. There is a white bust of an outstanding individual set as a marker between isles. As daily sitting at one's computer, maybe I had not noticed in the screensaver picture the rungs on the ladders. Imagine climbing to the top in search of a particular book. But there aren't any more rungs at the top! The last two steps in the rhythm of the design were missing. I'd never noticed that before. Makes sense in the practical way of things: what use is a stair or rung on a ladder if you run out of head-space? What sparks a gem of a moment, even though in this "library" it appears that you are at the top of the ladder:
The living memory (50s kitchen) I'm describing is familiar just like the farmhouse I grew up. Quaint, painted white cabinets, a window over the sink with gingham curtains, chrome-trimmed, grey and white table with four chairs. Vintage refrigerator with rounded corners, mud room leading to the back door with slamming screen door, Small kitchen garden out back attached to a large farm field, with a line of oak trees on the north boundary. Small intimate cottage to meet with the God-head. Where does one start, I spent a little over two years sharing communion here with all of "Them." The gate of first love, my fellowship place: as a transformational altar.
Along the editing trail...
During my quiet time with the Lord this morning I asked a question about His DNA, His blood. Scripture says that He walked entirely as a man in the flesh, laid down His divinity. That is why I asked. My DNA, a combination of father and mother, holds a family line of genetic inheritance: Good and not so good. Jesus DNA had no "earthly" father-line blood or semen in it. It was divine. I asked how does this make you fully man? A profound question for sure. I'm certainly no DNA expert. Then He showed me a picture/vision of a Mobius curve. I drew one for you and added it to the online community. I understand this as an eternal figure of eight, infinity sign. I have encountered a similar place in the heavens. Without being too scientific and outside of my experiential witness, I saw Him, Jesus, His earthly ministry, the cross positioned in the center of the figure of eight at the "crossing" over of this "Mobius curve/strip." Then the Lord reminded me of Saul, a man with heinous sins against the children of God, on the road to Damascus when He blinded him, called out to Saul, and the conversion took place. The Lord shared with me; this "crossing" over-place is where I changed his DNA. Saul/Paul encountered, "my" crossing over-place, it sheds some light on Jesus crucified before the foundation of the world. The crossing over place is part of eternity. It's the consummation of flesh when the flower fades and is blown away. Born into sin/born into righteousness. Every day in communion I partake of His flesh and blood. It is the crossing over-place.
Interesting to be writing about this in the chapter "Half Way"?
With that said: we will close the chapter drafted in the wilderness. Selah.
Help me, for a moment, to remember when I was describing the unique Valentine heart collage items in the first chapter: Didn’t I also tell you about the tiny gold snuff box? I think so. It was a gift from Melchizedek, and I placed the small trinket to the right of my computer, positioned to "correspond" divinely. I Googled “tiny gold snuff boxes” and cut, pasted, and printed the photo closest to what was in my spirit. I covered it with saran wrap, backed it, and taped it to my desk. Also, I shared how I encountered the hand of God holding my hand, and together we dipped "pen" into it, which revealed it was an inkwell. Remember, I described them in the first chapters.
Rabbit Trail: My pen is momentarily halted (I'm sitting outdoors), by the sweet sight of a sparrow couple taking turns bathing. This pair, washing the day's dust in the gurgling stream falling from the basket of my "lady at the well" fountain in my garden. She's statue'd in the middle of our Koi pond, highlighting my bitty feathered friends, the life-source of experiencing it together. Hearing Gods words stirs in my heart and rumbles around in my mind, penned. Life-source. Man shall not live by bread alone but by every word that proceeds out of the mouth of God. Life-source. It occurred to me in my pondering while still sitting in the spirit in this "inner" library, rolled up jeans, bare feet on the floor, bum planted on a chintz-covered ottoman just next to a bookshelf. Jesus is standing mid-room watching and waiting for me to exchange. The tipping point, the first half of the book for the second half.
Spontaneous poem of praise
Praise for the dove who answered my call.
Praise for the journey with my All in All.
Praise tho' the world be hurrying by,
Praise from my backyard, cool breeze, wet eyes.
Praise from the heavens &
Praise in the earth
Praise, now I worship and adore new-found worth.
Praise in the moment and
Praise out of time
Praise as I sit with this King of mine.
Praise in the day and
Praise in the night
Praise for the words to finish with might
Praise now I'm laughing, crazy to boot.
Praise on the mountaintop only with You.
Praise can you hear me.
Praise obey quick
Praise I said praise it's ready to tip.
Praise overflowing and
Praise from the well
Praise let's get louder oh rocks won't you yell.
Praise in the season of
Praise You've well known
Praise my impossible now un-throned
Praise to the coming
Praise to the day
Praise the uniqueness I found in this way.
Praise we are asking.
Praise we declare
Praise I am giving your gift to the air.
Praise surrounds glory
Praise lifts His throne.
Praise to my Jesus He unlocked the unknown.
The Kingdom of heaven is an expanse of territory and terrain that is first outworked in me. (the Kingdom of Heaven within) Then I follow the river through the temple door into The kingdom of His domain, the realm of Heaven. My heart looks different than His. Therefore my perceptions of His kingdom in me will travel through a process of change, transformation, opening ideas, and portals to explore. Like the tribes of Israel and their inheritance. Each one had the different blessing and opportunity to engage the dominion of the current (wilderness king) government there.
Jesus first led me into this particular library on the Eve of a New Year. I was seeking the Lord for insight and direction. Seated in the center are large round tables conveniently placed around the room just like a university library. There is a retrieving place to set the books you have taken off the shelf and a chair to sit and study/encounter. This particular morning Jesus took me into the room and pulled from the shelf a "cookie tin" that was familiar to me. I put Christmas cookies in it every year. Inside the tin was a handwritten note saying: “New Era.” I also was escorted into the same library room the following year. The word written was: “Container-ship.” Together we're learning something about the significance of the library. It has recorded information about doors into future eras. I'll pause there! If you're interested, I have made available the messages during this period and if you would like to listen in on some of the ways the Lord unpacked those "words." You may listen to the podcasts on Podomatic. See Northwest Bliss.
Page 94: Journaling Note: Yippee this works!!! from my iPad right next to the PC. Fascinating, in the spirit, there is a golden trophy, like a winner's cup, set up on top of my bookshelf here in my office, next to Michael the angel, the same figurine that also sat on my Grandma's shelf in her office.
This photo of my Grandma "Eloyce" Anderson, dropped out of my Mom and Dad's Wedding album when I was gathering pictures for there 65th Anniversary announcement. Now you can actually see "Michael" generationally speaking. I was thinking out-loud and wondered? Any chance that Michael the Arc angel was in relationship with my Grandma? Did she keep it a secret or did the framework of her denomination hinder her from truly having relationship? What do you think?
It was one of her desires to write a book and get published, She is very proud of me accomplishing The UnFinished Book. Sad to say this photo taken where the office looks tidy, her best intentions always had to clean the office first before creativity ever sat down. Food for thought.
Standing on the edge of Heaven and Earth
by Donna Taylor
In the 1950s, David Eccles, then Minister of Works, showed Churchill plans for the redevelopment of Parliament Square. Churchill drew a circle in the north-east corner and declared:
"That is where my statue will go."
"Hear this, young men and women everywhere, and proclaim it far and wide. The earth is yours and the fullness thereof. Be kind, but be fierce. You are needed now more than ever before. Take up the mantle of change. For this is your time."
-Sir Winston Churchill
Yup, God changes the message: on the other side of the veil?
How approved do you think my voice is now! About like Pastor Todd Burpo in book/movie "Heaven is Real," grammatical pause.
"Wearing a skirt"! Help me, Jesus! K Wambach
“What is childlike humility? It’s not the lack of intelligence, but the lack of guile. The lack of an agenda. It’s that precious, fleeting time before we have accumulated enough pride or position to care what other people might think. The same un-self-conscious honesty that enables a three-year-old to splash joyfully in a rain puddle, or tumble laughing in the grass with a puppy, or point out loudly that you have a booger hanging out of your nose, is what is required to enter heaven. It is the opposite of ignorance—it is intellectual honesty: to be willing to accept reality and to call things what they are even when it is hard.”
― Todd Burpo, Heaven is for Real: A Little Boy's Astounding Story of His Trip to Heaven and Back
How to use what you perceive: if I see a need or desire in myself, for my home, for my spouse, within my community... it's my responsibility to look and see just like Jesus's example: how to use, on whose behalf, and what does that behalf like?
What you are perceiving: many times, in the old testament, the Lord asked the prophets: "what do you see." When I am in a group of people, it takes courage and faith that my goofy snippet is from the Lord. By faith as a group, we share what each one perceived. Everyone's voice adds dimension to the set of glasses a team is viewing. Each picture or perception, each view paints, a picture, feeling, sense.
Knowledge on how it reflects Him: why do I want to see? Light has an uncanny ability to remove darkness. The Kingdom of Heaven is alive and also a discerner of our thoughts and motives. If the reflection I see is contrary to His image, I'm responsible for undoing the works of darkness: first in me, represent others as a priest, then I gain the charge of His courts. Zachariah 3: 7 “Thus says the Lord of hosts, ‘If you will walk in My ways and if you will perform My service, then you will also govern My house and also have charge of My courts, and I will grant you [c]free access among these who are standing here.
When I was 8, I asked Him to come into my heart.
When I was 29, I allowed Him to heal my heart.
When I was 30, I asked Him to introduce me to Holy Spirit
When I was 40, I allowed Holy Spirit to change me.
When I was 48, I agreed with Him what He said about me.
When I was 49, He opened my spiritual eyes to His Kingdom.
I'm now 57, and I feel like I am only beginning.
I'd like to honor and note the first Servant that altered my course of life. He Encouraged me to go into the more profound things of God. Thank you, James Goll, for writing the book, The Seer. When the spirit realm was invading my life, it was so affirming to know "IM NOT CRAZY."
RABBIT TRAIL: I suffered a computer crash months after my return from Korea, sadly losing my photo gallery. I asked my Mom if she would look through her collection knowing that I would have shared my favorites with her.
Korean Temples, so fascinating to tour and walk among treasure with such history: perfectly manicured sand meditation gardens, gates painted in brilliant colors. This particular temple housed women monks; she was adorable, personable and when I was oohing the practicality of her rubber "Monk" shoes in the next moment she was giving them to me. My brother Mike says I stole shoes from a Monk. Well, I will admit to having a bit of horse trading in my "jeans/genes."
Namdaemun Market, first opened in 1964, is the largest traditional market in Korea with over 10,000 retailers, vendors, and wholesalers. The market, spread out over many blocks, is a dense maze of stalls, vendors, and restaurants. Nowhere else in Korea can you find such a large collection of interesting and traditional Korean items for sale in one place.
My favorite shop, an original, rising store, about twenty steps, only five feet wide, with gift-wrap/wrapping papers, hung, folded, draped, stacked everywhere, exquisitely organized. I wandered carefully up the staircase with only room for a single foot on each riser. A fantastic, delightful paper shop. Beautiful papers, gold embossed papers, florals, pastel polka dots, blues with the sun and green after green after green. Printed Papers-saying: "Happy Birthday," Logo wrappings about Disneyland, papers written with words and poems and beautiful native writings. Korean symbols, Annamae, Hello Kitty, all in this 20 x 5ft staircase. I was enchanted. The proprietor's keen eyes never left me, following my ooh's and aah's, quickly reaching to show me just one more. Every shopkeeper was this way, "let me show you one more." Their wares were the best, least expensive, promising you couldn't find it anywhere else for this price. That was true in this case of a tiny paper store. Wrapping papers are found in other shops, but this creative-space obviously remained, treasured in my thoughts. I purchased several sheets of white linen paper printed with Hangul writings and enjoyed them for many years after. If I have portrayed a busy, industrious and spirited people in your minds, then I have written it well.
What a treat. My brother Mike just sent me a text and said look what I found! Two more pictures from my trip to Korea. Love it!
Mt. Seoraksan, North Korea
I have never experienced so many stairs. If you have a chance to visit Korea this is worth the effort to explore. Plan on getting in shape before you attempt the climb!
The Legend of the mountain:
Two men, Gwon and Kim, Who lived in the same village, fled during the war with their families to the mountains. At the top of the mountain, they realized there was no fortress wall to fend off any attacks by invaders. They agreed to build a fortress wall together, but did not have much time or materials, so they had to use the rocks by the stream. Gwon went down to the stream to gather stones, while Kim constructed the wall by piling the stones upon one another. After some time, they switched roles. They continued to work like this until the sun came up and showed that they had completed the fortress wall was named Gwongeumseong after the two strong men who built the structure.
Journaling: Learning to hear Gods Voice
Infomercial here! Being a journaler is imagining that you are on a date with Jesus, and He escorts you to "Your" heavenly library of books. If you could pick out one book today, which would you choose to read first? Mystically, your experiences have been written by the hand of God, outside of time, in the beginning, and the end of the Was was; in "I Am." Your/His written words about you were spoken/written before you poured your morning coffee and sat leaning on your prayer pillow. Journaling: writing it down, making a note; It's a divinely invaluable lifestyle. Press in, honor hearing God and what He has written about you. Join Him in Journaling. Pick up your pen or iPad today. Ok, roll your eyes at me, throw an excuse my way; I have numerous testimonies from friends and people I mentor about how much their encounters skyrocketed when they began to journal. I challenge you!
This is Jane...
And there "She" was. Suspended breathlessly reaching what seemed floor to ceiling. Divine interruption, I'm frozen! This Lady in Waiting, the wait was no more. Halted! Noise evaporated within divine hush, kids melted, the room became singular. Selah! Pause and think about that! She was coalesced on a canvas of moist ocean blue-greens, layered with ticking smudges and specks of brown/neutral hues, with matter like oatmeal and slivers of shredded cardboard clinging to its stretched cloth. Color, new at birth, like a robin's eggs, nested. Smooth brush strokes, brilliantly painted in springtime, held, caressed and camouflage protected in the precise weave of its parent's design. The canvas cradled "her" in secret attention. Distraction was the softness of her face; smudge circled frame. Long lovely hands are embracing surf interlude. Her body is hidden, silent, no outline except a wisp of suggested fabric masked, and hue between sea-light foam over stirred sand. Pulled in hands cupped around her breast, inches above a delicate oval face with eyes glancing down. I was speechless;
I finally did some growing up and set my husband free years ago from my expectations and wrong doctrine, forever discovering that being "One Flesh" is a mystery of unity. A secret not birthed on earth. Our spirits are ever entwined, learning to communicate, sharing without even opening our lips. One flesh, two spirits. Don survived those days of me learning to hear God's voice; being my greatest cheerleader. God’s grace chose him for me during a season when I was unable to make a wise choice. God knew that Don had the faithfulness and strength to withstand my transformation.
Such a loving husband who has never expected me to wait for anything that Jesus wanted me to experience.
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