Tairngir tellings

‘Lover all is forgiven’. This is how the Lord opened up my heart, not breaking barriers but pointing to them. I was and am softened in my heart towards myself and towards Him. I went months without really hearing his voice or seeing his face. I was scared that He would ask too much of me. When it came to listening to Him I heard that I was so loved and cherished that those huge things that made me feel so worthless and weak were like midges being crushed in His mighty arms as he moved to embrace. He didn’t get in touch, as I feared for His own benefit. So He could ‘use’ me for His kingdom. He touched me and spoke to me, letting me know that He just loves and if I were just to soak that in for the rest of my life and naught else then His beaming smile would be my reward. His motives are altruistic and even were He to ask something of me, it would be to my benefit even if it seemed not to my shortsighted eyes.

As I said I went months without seeing or hearing him in what I would term direct contact. One day I was listening to a Brad Jersak podcast and he encouraged the church he was speaking to, to join him in visualising the throne room. He took verses from Revelation and Isaiah and Daniel (I think) to construct a vision of the throne room. And I was there. In my mind’s eye I could see it clearly and hear the hubbub of many voices and the wafting sound of wings moving. I approached the throne over a sea of clearest glass with a river of fire running down it, away from the throne. The thrones of the elders either side of The Throne. I was scared but in that good way when you expect nothing bad to happen. I was then seated on the Father’s lap. I’ve been here before I know but something was different this time. I could see His face. I’ve never been able to see the Father’s face before. Jesus’ but not the Father’s. If I were not already awed by my surroundings I was blown away by this.

His face was beautiful and terrifying. Intense is a word I kept thinking afterwards. I was bold despite this. I asked why I felt afraid to look into His face and eyes that were as fire. He replied by calling to my mind a part in a one of the Narnia stories:

“Ooh!” said Susan, “I’d thought he was a man. Is he – quite safe? I shall feel rather nervous about meeting a lion.”

“That you will, dearie, and no mistake,” said Mrs. Beaver; “if there’s anyone who can appear before Aslan without their knees knocking, they’re either braver than most or else just silly.”

“Then he isn’t safe?” said Lucy.

“Safe?” said Mr. Beaver; “don’t you hear what Mrs. Beaver tells you? Who said anything about safe? ‘Course he isn’t safe. But he is good.’

This shook me deeply and has been working on me ever since. The next week I had a session of listening prayer with my dear wife and a good friend of mine. I met with Jesus in our house and my heart was opened up another notch concerning being loved. And making and breaking inner vows to always be a blessing and never a curse. Of trying to be Jesus and not the me He would have me be. We cannot replace Him with a list of do’s and don’ts or by asking WhatWouldJesusDo. It was very freeing and challenged me in ways I know not yet. It was reaffirmed that love wins and love is on my side. That as stated in Romans 8:

And I am convinced that nothing can ever separate us from God’s love. Neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither our fears for today nor our worries about tomorrow—not even the powers of hell can separate us from God’s love.39 No power in the sky above or in the earth below—indeed, nothing in all creation will ever be able to separate us from the love of God that is revealed in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Nothing can get in the way of my lover and I.

Love wins…..

As a moth to the flame

Like the dust upon a moths wing

our thoughts of good before love.

Love; that fabled flame draws

our fragile wings and soft belly

to burn in passionate flash.

the feelers we’ve followed unerringly

melting first before the all powerful onslaught

.

.

We come out; unknowing before

as gold gilded eagles

soaring high on joy’s thermal

Lifted far above the world and it’s calamities

but we perceive all

and guide those still mired in the clay of their creation

Our feathers glint in the sun as a wink from the son

the wings of our new abodes only tiring when heart has it’s fill

A razor like beak now leads: cutting between flesh and bone

The blood red earth and it’s heart of stone

Originally posted on http://tairngir.tumblr.com/page/2

Mar 17 2010

This post has been brewing for a while but now that I am sitting down to write it I don’t know how to begin. 1 month and 3 days ago I moved from North Wales to the beautiful and interesting city of Bristol. I have lived in North Wales since I was 6 and now that I’m a quarter of a century old I have moved back to England. I’ve been here 3 weeks without a job. I believe this is the longest time I have been without a job since I was seventeen. It’s really weird to have that much time to yourself. You discover some things: even as I walked about my new hometown finding important places, beautiful ones and the odd refuge I was finding out more about me and about my relationship with God and therefore all my relationships and well pretty much everything else too. I re-realised my brokenness, vulnerability and limitations. I realised I was scared of the dark places in my heart. I haven’t been scared of the dark since I was quite a bit younger or so I thought. At one time a time not so long past I would have been overcome and subsumed for weeks, even months. Now after gaining some maturity I can carry on with life with a smile even as I feel the rawness of my wounds.

So Moving to Bristol was supposed to be and is a joyous task. I have moved to be close to my love and broaden my horizons and seek love, life and new things. This is all good and makes me smile in wonderment every time I stop to consider what is happening to and all about me. But at the same time I am scared. This fear that has reared its ugly head many a time is back and the prize it seeks? My future, my dreams, me. It is the fear of failure and of not measuring up. Of not fulfilling my duty as a man in whatever capacity e.g. husband to be, in my work, as a son, as a friend, a brother, as disciple of Jesus and all of this within always trying to be true to the true me and wanting to be perfect in all these areas right now. It is a burden created by fear. It is a series of walls made to protect myself from criticism, vulnerability, injury, hurt and judgement. All my insecurity and past pain made fast with lock and key. It would seem good at first glance. The bricks made with a white shimmering stone and the mortar moss and lichen free. But these walls hold back compassion. They hold back love. They take away freedom to live in the name of safety from death.

As Benjamin Franklin said “Those who would give up Essential Liberty to purchase a little Temporary Safety, deserve neither Liberty nor Safety.”

These walls hold back passion from both entering and exiting. These walls have to come down; leaving me naked and vulnerable. All rough edges and incomplete works on display. Scars and all

RT

Originally posted on http://tairngir.tumblr.com/page/6

In the shadow of despair is greatness born. Even as you feel your heart heavy; filled as it is with a cynical cement. Your hope it at it’s lowest ebb and you realise that you are that fly caught in the world wide web. It’s when you’re head is stuck in the mire and your soul situation is increasingly dire:

That that first tear of true sadness falls. It is like the first drops of rain shed from the storm clouds into the desert that your idealism has become. Slowly that brain fog made up of droplets of apathy; drenching you in a nonchalant affection drifts away. And the monsoon of heaven pours:

large droplets of compassion strike your upturned, bruised face and burden laden shoulders and you are free. You are drenched from head to toe and later a chill will set in; but you are free again. Free to love, free to care, free to be loved and closer to Him.

Surely as you stumble near the coast of a forgotten land a sea mist may drift in and you will be hidden again for a while but those rains come again and clean and then clear the air. The sun will shine out ever brighter than before and you will catch sight of the tapestry of greatness and the strand you weave; though you catch but a glimpse and you forget yourself again.

Orignally posted on http://tairngir.tumblr.com/page/10