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.
"Barrel and Gondola cars."
Step in by faith: I wait for Him to prepare the communion "elements." In the spirit!
My perceptions: You are welcome to join us. I'll share an anchor for you to grab if that'll help. Then He will paint a personal place for you. It's entirely OK if the scene takes on changes and looks different from mine. Trust Jesus in you.
I'm sitting with Jesus, high on a mountain. You can see mountains cascading behind mountains as the range goes forth. The lush hillside is rolling green making me feel like I imagine Ireland is. I have yet to discover. He, Jesus - hands me/you a Twinkie.(represents His body) (I smirk bending my cheek and only one dimple. He's so not super spiritual.)
Back to the Twinkie: when He passes it to me, Jesus hangs on to His portion, and the Twinkie rips between our grasp. The filling is exposed. I hear Him saying:
"Brokenness was always supposed to reveal the cream center." My confessions; Jesus, I hand you debris that I have loaded onto my life, like the barrel and gondola car across the wilderness. I was never supposed to carry it. Forgive me for choosing to ride the rails across a desert of disobedience. I exchange it for the true riches and divine resources that I receive by faith in the mystery of this communion. I receive everything You, Father has already "thought" of and placed into this divine manna for my journey.
Well, you know what you do with a Twinkie? You suck out the cream. I know; super spiritual.
The cup: Jesus hands me one of those fangled hydro flask water bottles, smiles and says:
"I prepared this a long time ago; it's still cold and refreshing."
I thank Him for His body and blood... in me, changing and transforming me into His likeness.
My hands hover over the keys while tears rise from my heart to eyes. Typing is comfortable. One of few classes that I would share the grades on my report card. I could fly over the keys, type at almost a hundred words a minute, but why is writing so difficult?
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