Sunday, May 07, 2006

Chapter 23: Another Key, pt.2


When I awaken, He is still there. He feels me stir and hugs me briefly. Then He says, “Let Me see your neck.”

I turn to show Him the scar, let Him examine the burn of the coal. I can still feel the coolness of the salve He applied earlier.

“Do you understand the importance of all this?” He asks.

“No, I don’t think so,” I reply, still blinking the sleep from my eyes and rising to my feet.

Gently with His finger He traces the path of the scar on my neck. “This scar threatened your life’s blood. It sat where your blood, your life flowed though and it contaminated it. This was the source of your constant fear that I would leave you, that I would turn my back on you and abandon you for someone, for something more important. It was the core of your failure to trust Me completely.”

I understand now what help the key in place and why I could not break it. “But, Papa, if this was so very important, why did it not seem as difficult as earlier hurdles we faced? It was not easy, it hurt and dos, I think. But it was not so hard as the challenges of the garden. Why is that?” I ask quietly.

He is silent for a moment. “You have come a long way child. You have learned to hear My voice. You have begun to trust Me and expect good from Me. What you once had to fight to see is now more easily seen. It does not make it less important, it is evidence of the changes of your heart.

You still bear a wound of where the scar has been removed. Today, I will heal that and replace it with new, if you will allow Me. I want you to see Me beside you and walk in a fresh and new anointing I offer you. You must walk in a new trust that your huios (placed, adult child) prayer has been heard and that it pleases your father to answer it. You need not plead or beg. Your Papa—

--He has not called Himself that to be before—

“Your Papa has promised you an answer of abundance and I will not forget my promise. I will heal that scar and mark it with my love.”

“Yes, Papa, yes!” my voice is but a whisper. I desperately want to obey and receive from Him. My words are in faith, not my own strength.

“Come close to Me.”

I am standing just steps away from Him. Aware now of the burn on my neck, it is harder that it should be, but I obey. Turning that side of my neck to Him, I feel myself tremble. He puts His hand to my face and cradles my cheek.

“I am pleased, child.” He says.

I press into His hand savoring the words I longed to hear. With His other hand, He touches the burn on my neck. I feel the warmth of His touch and know He is healing me.”

“Now, instead of fear, your blood, your life will course through the touch of my glory and those who see you will see the reflection of My glory.”

It is all I can do to stand soaking in His presence.

Finally He says. “Come to the window.” I follow Him there. “Look,” He points outside. I see people gathering outside the gate.

We watch at the window for a while. At last, I ask Him about direction, what I am supposed to do, what direction I am to go, what am I to do with or for those gathering at the gates.

He looks at me, taking my hands in His. “Do you trust Me?”

“Yes, yes I do.” I reply, confused by His question.

“Then trust Me. Walk through the doors I open. Knock on the doors I present. Do not run off in searching. In you, I want the work to be Mine alone. I want others to see what I do in you and know it is an act of My grace alone, not of your building or creating.”

“Yes, Papa. I will do what you ask. I will wait on You. Please, Papa, do not let me fail to see what you place before me. I will obey.” This is so different to me. I thought there were things I was to push through, but He seems to be telling me to wait now. And I will.

He nods at me and releases my hands. He turns and walks back to His chair and sits by the fireplace once more. “Come here child.” There is a firmness in His voice that concerns me.

“Yes, Papa.” I quickly step to His side.

“If I told you to place yourself into My hands, would you obey?” He asks me pointedly.

Confused and swallowing hard, I stammer, “Yes, Papa, you know I have and I will.”

He pressed me further, “What if you know that it meant correction, discipline?”

My heat sinks. I have no idea what I have done wrong. “Yes, Papa, yes, I would. I will. Have I displeased You? Have I disobeyed?” I have no idea what I have done.

“Why? Why would you obey?” He persists, not answering my question.

“Because…well because I, I trust You, I love You. Papa, papa, I trust you. Correction hurts, but it is worth it Papa. I want to be close to you, I do not want to be apart from You. I want to walk with You and there is no other way. I want to obey You.
“Papa, how have I disobeyed you? What I have I done wrong?” I cannot help but ask, my concern still growing, edging even into panic.

He nods. “What is what I want you to teach my people. Teach them who I am, how to live. Teach them to trust Me enough to obey Me.”

Still uneasy, I answer. “I will, Papa. Show me how so I can do it right. I will do it.” I realize His voice is grieved, His expression heavy.

“Many of mine do not know this. Teach them of expectations and your new expectations. Teach them where you have been.” He pauses, finally answering my question. “You have not disobeyed Me, daughter.”

Relief flows through me and I find myself breathing out my tension. “Papa, show me how to do this, how to share with your other children. How do I start?”

“Come close, let Me whisper in your ear.” He beckons. I rest my head again on His heart to listen.

“You do this in the context of who you are. Do not pretend to be anyone or anything else. You are a teacher, because of your gift, people will ask of you. All you need to do is let others know you know Me and answer the questions they ask.”

I can do that! Relief once again washes over me. I can do what He is asking of me! The picture I have always had was of something that I could not be. But this I can do! His yoke is truly easy and light! I can not get over the idea I can do it

“My people are insecure in their gifts, they believe that someone else’s gift is beter or right. They spend their time chasing after these other gifts rather than developing what they have. It is in the context of your own gift that you will minister, even to the salvation of others.” He pauses a moment. “Serve Me, not men.”

A pang of grief pierces my heart. I life my head, pressing my forehead under His chin. “Papa, I am sorry, I have done just that. I have confused who I am serving. I have tried to please man, thinking that would please You.” I am grieved at this insight, but at the same time, overcome knowing that repentance can come in the context of such incredible closeness.

Chapter 24-->

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