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...
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I'm Kristen Wambach
I'm all grown up (I think?) Along my journey of searching for answers, I found them. I went from spiritual blindness to OMG! With a driving niche as an entrepreneur. I love hanging out with our four sons, riding with my husband on his Harley, and creating all things hospitality. My mission? To help others see "beyond" and own their awesomeness within!
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