Pounded Down With Nails

Every sin ... what weight it must have been. Every sin. Not just sin from one or two, not just sin from tens of thousands, but the sins of all humanity throughout the history of the earth were laid upon him. A world’s weight set upon his frame and pounded down with nails.

What sheer breadth and height it would have measured (if sin could possibly be measured thus): homosexuality, pornography, hatred, murder, lies, rebellion . . . countless sins in every shape and form as can be imagined in the heart of man.

And at that moment of the laying of our sins upon him ... God's wrath was satisfied. The payment for our souls was made. Someone had to pay the penalty, and only he, who had no sin, could do it.

Artwork: Nailed to the Cross, unknown

Stuff Falling Off

Welcome to the family! Did you know that you are now a royal child? Your father is a King (the King of kings) and you shall learn his ways now that you've been adopted into this large clan of his.

O, we can be a noisy bunch - we love to laugh! And you will find all sorts of stuff falling off you that you did not even realize you carried . . . burdens, that is. Ailments and griefs of various kinds. Baggage and trappings that never served you very well after all.

O-ho! Yes, welcome to the family. Such a good thing that you are here at last!

Artwork: Set Free © Deborah Nell

https://deborah-nell.pixels.com/

Let the Dreams Begin!

He visits them in dreams . . . and they believe in Him. By the thousands they are turning, bowing knee to ground to worship Him who is the dearest of them all.

And who can stop the Son of God from entering into a sleeper’s quiet rest? No one can. Who can stop dear Muslim souls from believing in their heart that Jesus saves? No one can.

And the eastern world accuses, “it’s a foreign plot to convert Muslims!” Oh, no, not a foreign plot at all— it is a God plot! A Holy Spirit plot! An incredible plot thought out by God Himself at the beginning of the world.

Night is falling now . . . the eastern world is lying down to sleep . . . the trumpet blasts . . . and heaven shouts, "LET THE DREAMS BEGIN!"

Photograph: Jesus in a dream, Jesus resurrection unknown

Just the Beginning

"Do you see that?!!"

"Yes, I do."

"They're starting to believe!"

"Did you doubt?"

"Well . . . er, yes . . . I must say I did. And what now with such faith?"

"Ha! Walking on water is just the beginning."

Artwork: walking on water, unknown

Human Strength

“It is finally happening!”

“Yes, it is.”
“He looks very strong.”
“He is. But not strong enough to break his chains.”
“Ah, yes, the chains. They all have them.”
“They do. And in their human strength some can carry them for a very long time.”
“This one has a praying mother, doesn't he?”
“Oh, yes. And since he was in her womb she has never stopped interceding for him.”
“Does he know what brought him to this place?”
“Not completely; but he will. It’s enough for now that he is here.”
“This is exciting! I’ve never seen it happen. You know, actually been here at the moment. So now, when do the chains actually fall?”
“Any moment now, you will see . . . shh, listen . . . he is doing it. He’s asking Christ into his heart.”

Photograph: Man in Chains, unknown

White-hot Metal

Innocence is precious. We think of it as soft and pure—little lambs and babies. But there is a purity that is like white-hot metal, that burns into our souls, that purges all the dross. It is my Beloved One that grants me such a touch as this, a burning touch that cleanses my soul and restores my innocence.

Christ, the sinless One, the daringly loving One, the One whose heart is ever longing for the lost ones He died for. It is His touch that restores, refreshes and makes clean. Such a feeling to be clean! Soaking for a thousand days in water would not let me feel as clean as one touch from His Holy Spirit.

Who would not want the feeling of a clean soul? . . . if only they knew. Burning can be a very good thing.

Artwork: Innocence by Bougoureau 

Are We Not Gods?

God is so creative! From out of His mind sprang the entire order of the universe - such an astounding thing that mere mortals find it difficult to grasp. We are boxed in by our little minds, refusing to believe in feats to which we ourselves cannot attain. We sit before our Creator with our chests puffed out and insist with presumed intelligence, “God did not do that! There is no god, in fact!” 

We sit, determined to not heed anything that might say we are wrong. Wrong? Us? Are we not the smartest of all creatures? Are we not gods ourselves? Do we not have the power of the divine hidden down within only waiting to come out? What tragic, silly beings we’ve become. 

And God looks down upon those He made and sees the rebellious little children that we are. 

Artwork: Infant Jupiter by Sir Joshua Reynolds

I Will Never Make You Carry That

It is simple. If it were not, my back would have broken long ago beneath the weight. I simply followed Him. Regulations were not heaped upon my back by Him who is the kindest of them all. Men have tried to do that - but never Him! He has always gently removed those nefarious back-breaking religious burdens that men have tried to lay on me and said, “No, my child, that is not for you. I will never make you carry that.” And suddenly I feel light on my feet again. Suddenly I walk with a lilt in my step, as I realize the only thing I need to do is love Him. 

It is that simple. Too simple some would say. But, no, that is how it is. He did all the work and by faith in Him we reap all the life . . . simple! 

Artwork: He That is Without Sin © 2008 Liz Lemon Swindle

http://www.greenwichworkshop.com/swindle/

When All Shaking is Done

Tearing down mountains creates quite a shaking - did you not know this? Did you think it would be instant or easy, or that all would agree to it?

Oh, no . . . When a mountain's removed there's a frightening noise, a terrible shaking throughout all the land. In DC there is a mountain of evil that God is removing. Stand strong! Don't be afraid! God is restoring our destiny and rebuilding a nation.

It is quite a mess.

God holds President Trump in His hands. And God loves this nation. All is not over . . . hold onto God's words and keep praying. God decides rulers and dominions and times, not politicians, and not the swamp creatures who are now in plain sight. The lines have been drawn. Who'll stand with God? Who will have faith? Who are the Joshuas and Calebs? . . . When all shaking is done, we shall see.

Artwork: Third Eruption of the Revolutionary Volcano by Auguste Desperret

Glory Warms My Limbs

He delights in me! I have a God in heaven whose thoughts toward me are too numerous to count. He says I’m the apple of His eye. He loves my company and only wishes I would spend more time with Him. Even when I sin, a sometimes faithless one, He loves me. The Beloved One, my truest friend, my advocate, my steadfast ally, looks down upon me and His Glory warms my limbs as the midday sun and makes me smile. 

And this brash love, this outrageous passion that He has for me, He extends to all. I wish the world to know that the only life worth living is found in Christ . . . can you imagine being loved like this? It is beyond imagination. 

Artwork: Ecstasy by Maxfield Parrish

The Emperor is Naked!

"That is a man in women's clothes!" so said the innocent child, pointing his finger at him.

They all saw a man dressed in women's clothes. They knew his male chromosomes could never change and they whispered to each other, "This transgender thing, it is a lie." Yet would they dare to speak the truth aloud? Heaven's no! They fawned over his pretty clothes and smiled their fake smiles at him ... yet would not, could not, bring themselves to speak the truth for they might fall out of favor.

"That is a man!" exclaimed the child again, looking with astonishment at the grown-ups round him, for they were all afraid to say it. But the child wasn't. And the child could not lie.

We know the story well - The emperor has no clothes! The emperor is naked!

Artwork: The Emperor's new clothes, unknown

Reaching Up

Reach up and call His name. That’s all you have to do. Reach up when black clouds descend upon your soul with a weight that tries to crush. 

Reach up and call upon the name of Jesus. Shout it if you have to; weep, if that is how it comes; whisper it if you feel you have no strength. He will hear, I promise. He will not stay far away for long.

When He stretches forth His hand, instantly the clouds will part. Deliverance will come because He owns it. It belongs to Him and Him alone. Redemption belongs to Him ... and so does love. All of it is His. But do not give up. Do not stop calling out His name and reaching up. I know without a doubt that He will come.

Artwork: Hand of God, unknown

Try to Take Over the World

Pinky and the Brain had it right. The goal today is like every day: TRY TO TAKE OVER THE WORLD! For the sake of Christ we go forth with love and humility. Our goal? To take over the world for the one who suffered and died for it.

No half-way commitment will do. No frightened, shriveling soldiers will suffice. No water-downed belief system will carry through. No hard-edged, merciless religion will work. It is His grace, His love, and His power that we must have.

Try to take over the world! Have you ever thought about that? One heart at a time they use to say, but it shall be thousands of hearts at a time now. They shall come pouring into the Kingdom like a flood and we will lay the world at His holy feet.

Artwork: Pinky and the Brain

A Harsh Goddess

Dear little one,

She wants your life. She is a harsh goddess, demanding you be put to death, and the men and women who bow to her are willing to do whatever it is she wants ... and she wants you sacrificed.

He who breathed life into your small self shall one day slay this evil queen, this Jezebel, and pull her from her throne. And all those who worship her shall weep and gnash their teeth to see her fall. But till then, they will continue to kill you little ones to feed their goddess' appetite and they will make war against all of us for the right to do it.

Photo: Baby in the womb sucking thumb, unknown

Shine

Truly, I want my heart to be filled with Your presence and I need the pursuit of You to be what fills my hours. How do I come to that place? I am not certain, but You know. You know everything. 

Change me to be a true replication of Jesus, my precious Savior. I wish to be as beautiful as He is. I wish to shine with the Glory of Father as He does. 

Shine . . . shine . . . shine! That certain something that glows from His eyes must shine from mine.

Artwork: Beata Beatrix by Dante Gabriel Rosseti

He and She

God made her and him. God made man and woman and they fit perfectly together.

He and she. Her and him. Man and woman . . . only two genders were created, a biological design within which are rooted our well-being and our wholeness.

Woe to those who try to stray from His design, for on that path there is a tearing of the soul, and pain, the likes of which they have never known before. And a great lost-ness that will drag them down into a whirlwind of darkness.

He and she. Her and him. Since the dawn of time and evermore, as long as XY chromosomes remain XY.

Artwork: Meeting on the Turret Stairs by Frederick Burton

The Flowers Return

Blessings suddenly come - falling out of heaven into our laps. Such a week I have known, such a week of blessings. I have laughed much this week at the goodness of God and have been astounded at how the heavens can open with a burst and suddenly the dry land is turned into a garden. God sends his mercies down and in a moment everything is turned around - The sun rises, the waters flow, the flowers return, the obstacles fall away, and suddenly God shows himself mighty to save and answers the cries of His children. 

I am privileged to know such a tender Father and honored to be called His own. And today my heart bursts with the blessings that have fallen! 

Artwork: Truly the Light is Sweet by Shaw

The Sound of His Return

I am listening for him, listening for the sound of his return. His voice, his step outside my chamber, I eagerly await. “Come, Lord, come!” my heart cries out as breath is bated and I strain to hear the faintest sound.

I hear so many things as the time of his return approaches. I hear the groaning of the earth beneath the weight of sin that bears upon it. I hear all creation singing praises, quietly, persistently; a sound that even night has not the power to stop. Astounding are the things that can be heard when one takes the time to listen. Let the world rush by, but I shall wait with lamp full lit, eyes wide awake, listening for the footfalls of him whose face I’ve waited long to see. Come, Lord, come!

Artwork: Thisbe by John William Waterhouse

A Light Within

If you journey out into the world the battles promise to be fierce. The world’s ways are not easy, are not pain free. It is dark out there and growing darker . . . but . . . you have a light. Do you not remember? There is a light within that is stronger than the darkness and the darkness cannot overcome it. Fan the flame of your first love for Him.

“Away fear! Fie to grief! Anger you are banished! Death to enemies once too strong for me!”

There you have it. You have not forgotten after all—He is that light.

Artwork: © Greg Call

http://linesandcolors.com/2014/12/07/greg-call/

Most Fierce Opponent

God did not make you so. You were not born for such a life. It was your choice.

Your conscience tried to stop you in it — for many years that precious gift within you, given by a loving God, tried to stop you from this course. But you would not listen to it. You entertained the thoughts, and when thoughts are entertained for years they grow in strength till a stronghold grips the mind that is not broken easily.

And when finally you had killed that God-imprinted conscience, put it sound to sleep, you stepped into that homosexual bond that is a false substitute for what the wounds within are really needing.

It is not Christians that have warred against you — it is that truest friend, yet most fierce opponent of them all . . . your conscience.

Artwork: Nature by Arild Rosenkrantz

An Army of Glorious Truckers

Once long ago there were truckers who rode great shining trucks into battle; a battle where they carried no weapons and courage was solely their armor.

The fight they waged was quite peaceful in their stubborn defiance of a tyrant. And all the world watched the battle progress, and how with bar-b-ques, laughter and dancing they fought.

The tyrant could not take the mocking and angrily called on his minions: the enforcers-of-diktats, cold-hearted cowards (falsely called 'royal') that were willing to trample even old women beneath the hooves of their horses.

It seemed like a one-sided battle. It seemed like freedom was lost . . . but then . . . a miracle suddenly happened that no one expected to see. 

The people began to awaken from sleep, deciding these warriors should not stand alone any longer. By ten thousands and millions they filled every street. Every village and city was crowded. Every highway and byway was crammed. Until the outnumbered enforcers-of-diktats refused to give help to the tyrant and decided instead to stand down. And the dominoes fell 'cross the world as their liberty finally was won.

And here on the hallowed fields of freedom sits that first mighty truck of the convoy. Here sits the old metal steed in her glory for all lovers of freedom to see. And to this very day parents tell the story to their children of that army of glorious truckers, fearless and bold, who caused the thrones of terrible tyrants to come tumbling down.

Artwork: Kenworth Old Workhorse © Stuart Swartz
https://fineartamerica.com/profiles/stuart-swartz

Proclamatory Feet

I feel electricity course through me at His touch. Fear flees and little do I care what men think. Do I dance? Yes, with all my heart and soul till those of timid nature find the boldness to step out.

Come, all who wish to join in the dance, who wish to plunge into the river, who wish to stand beneath the rain and soak in heaven's glory. And darkness will tremble beneath your feet . . . and walls will crash beneath your feet . . . and demons will flee before your stomping, twirling, proclamatory feet!

Leap over those safe little fences round your field that men have built and venture into the wild unknown . . . I know you want to.

Artwork: Spiritual Renewal © 2008 Angela Branigan

https://www.imagekind.com/artists/angelabranigan/all/fine-art-prints/artists/angelabranigan/all/fine-art-prints