Metamorphosis

Quick note too self: Snow shoes are not comfortable nor are they easy or quick to walk in. If you are wanting to get somewhere fast I suggest not wearing snow shoes. Nevertheless, these are the shoes I have been given for this particular terrain and since I am no expert I will trust in this man that has lead me out of my greenhouse. You may ask me why I trust this man who has invited me into the wild and seems to be leading me somewhere, to be honest I think it is His eyes. There is fire, life, love, excitement, joy, empathy, in His eyes. It is hard to explain but every time I catch a glimpse of them I feel safe and therefore I have chosen to trust this wild adventure that I am embarking on. 

We walk in silence for a long time. I feel as a child again, a child who is seeing for the first time and everything is full of life. Almost too stimulating are all the sounds around me, the birds of the air, the beasts of the forest, I hear them all, I see them in their natural habitat and they are satisfied, never worried, never anxious or fearful...except maybe the bunny rabbits. The sound that I love the most is the crunching of the snow beneath my snow shoes as I take one step at a time. Don’t get me wrong, it is cold, I am tired, my endurance is not what it use to be and I don't know how long we are traveling until we get to rest. Its not all wonderful out here in the wild but something that surprises me is how quickly I have forgotten about the greenhouse. It no longer consumes my thoughts, I realize how boxed in I felt, even though I was comfortable and somewhat safe, somehow out here I feel safer, not always comfortable but there is definitely more purpose.

Out here in the forest in the dead of winter while there is snow on the ground you can never really tell how deep the snow is, these snow shoes really come in handy to keep me above instead of sinking. Imagine if I didn't have these, this journey would be a lot longer and would take a lot more physical strength. I let the man lead the way because somehow I think He knows where the deep parts are and he steers me away from them. As I observe from behind, I notice that He rarely looks down at His feet, He always seems to be looking ahead or checking his surroundings. It has made me realize how much I look down at my feet. I guess it is out of habit to make sure I don't trip on something, I don't know but I do know I want to look up more. I want to look ahead and be aware of what is happening around me, I think it is important now that I am out of my greenhouse.

Each day it seems that as I observe my leader that I am gaining new desires to change myself. I notice something that He does and I realize that I would do the opposite, mind you we don't talk a whole bunch but just by observing I notice so much of what is natural to Him is so unnatural for me. I want to imitate Him more so I can be as skillful and resourceful as Him. As each new sun rises I put into practice the things I see this man do, I begin to notice when I am looking down too much and I intentionally lift my head and eyes to see ahead. I notice I clench my fist when I am worried and this man never clenches. I focus on trusting and resting my gaze instead of intensely looking into the future with worry and doubt. I think it is His stance, His posture is so confident and firm. I want that stance. I mean He has been walking in these snow shoes a lot longer than me but I am getting better at it each day. 

I have lost track of the days and time. I have no idea where we are or where we are going. It just seems to be miles and miles of snow and forest. My hair has grown and my feet and ankles are sore beyond anything I have felt before. They are actually past sore, they have hit that place where I am gaining new muscles and new strength. My endurance is growing and my mental patience is growing. Unswerving and steady is this man, I am amazed by his ability and capability. He has provided for me food and shelter at night, He has been so kind and tender on this journey. I have thought about asking Him where we are going but something in my soul doesn't need to know and doesn't want to ask. I don't know if I want to know, I am actually comfortable with this forest and these snow shoes now.

With my eyes I see the snow falling on the outside of my greenhouse. I stand comfortably in the warmth of my controlled environment believing that only growth can happen in these perfect conditions. However, some of my most precious plants are fading away, withering and dying. My skin sinks in deep to the comfortable warmth of this glass house yet my soul is anxious as I see the outside conditions. It looks cold, barren, lifeless, offering no direction, no protection, no provision. I gaze at my feet with my head down thankful to be in this controlled greenhouse to grow and stay protected, “This is where God wants me, in this safe protected area, He knows my heart is fragile and I am vulnerable, therefore He has put me here for my good.” I lie to my soul as I push further down the anxiety and the fear of the outside creeping into my greenhouse.

There is a knock on the door of your attic. A world of past, present and future in one. A walk down memory lane. Emotions put in boxes being stored away. Stored for what though? The upper rooms of our homes often hold things, stuff, furniture, pictures, seasonal decorations, antiques, good memories, bad memories, etc. 

Why do we store these things up? Is it so the generation can use the furniture in their living room? Maybe, maybe not. We all have our own reasons for storing and keeping things. 

We store up moments and precious seasons. The attic holds so much, so many good and bad. Why then are these things often hidden? Hidden in the dark, musty, damp smelling attic. Hidden away and only being visited maybe 3-4 times a year. A room hidden in the upper chambers of our home to hide things, moments and memories.

I hear the Lord say, “Clear the attic, clear the upper room.” The Father who created me wants more room, more room in the upper room of my heart to fill it with more eternal and heavenly love rather than things that gather dust and fade away.

Matthew 6:19-21

“Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal, but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”

Revelation 3:17-20

You say, ‘I am rich; I have acquired wealth and do not need a thing.’ But you do not realize that you are wretched, pitiful, poor, blind and naked. 18 I counsel you to buy from me gold refined in the fire, so you can become rich; and white clothes to wear, so you can cover your shameful nakedness; and salve to put on your eyes, so you can see.

19 Those whom I love I rebuke and discipline. So be earnest and repent. 20 Here I am! I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with that person, and they with me.

If you are curious what the upper room is and how it relates to the Holy Spirit I encourage you to read Acts 1:4-26. 

Here is also a teaching about who the Holy Spirit is and why He exist:

The walls of religion have tumbled with a loud crash. Light beams penetrate where darkness once resided. I can feel the warmth of the light as I stand in this truth. With eyelids closed I breathe in deep the light that cleanses away the cobwebs of old thought patterns, methods and beliefs.

Where there was bondage, entrapment and legalism now there is freedom, relationship and love. My legs tremble as I try to stand in the power of the who has gripped my heart. Batting my eyelids open slowly I see the aftermath of the deconstruction of my heart. Beautifully a mess I smile and giggle. The boxes I once had to organize my beliefs, religious methods, pride and control lie shattered on the floor of my heart.

The Egg Shell Dance

By: Elizabeth Wheeler Brereton Andrews

Realizing you can’t dance while your egg shells is a funny exploration.

Yes I say exploration because sometimes it takes going through carpet after carpet till you discover you are actually on egg shells.

The carpet was nice but eventually the bare feet wanted to touch the surface….the cold hard ground.

However, when all is removed the discovery that you have been on egg shells is a funny matter.

The face of one who discovers this is a furrow brow, lips plastered together and a forehead that is wrinkled in both irritability and surprise.                                        

egg shells.

She picks up her feet to dance, heal toe, heal toe, heal toe…

She lets out a sigh realizing the shells take away her joy of dance, its not that she can’t tolerate the shells but it has completely taken away her joy.

When she danced she would get lost, she would find herself lost in a trance of another lovers dance but now…now all she could think of were the egg shells.

she danced and danced determined they wouldn’t  bother her, that she would build up a toughness that she believed would only make her a stronger dancer.

Over the years she continued to dance. No longer in joy but with determination to be the strongest dancer that lived. Her focus was not to enjoy and get lost in the other lovers dance but just be better than other dancers.

She would take on surfaces that other dancers couldn’t and wouldn’t dare try to dance upon.

She had made her mark in the world of dance and was dancing on every large stage around the globe. People knew her as the one “who felt no pain.”

She was known as the lady with no time for pain, not able to feel pain and above all could ignore pain.

Time went on and on and she made her fame in the light of her egg shells. She had made them work for her advantage and she had channeled her irritability into desire for greatness.

In the view of her audience she was a hero, she was someone to look up to, she was the independent strong woman of power and of no emotion.

She was a woman who held up her own flag of victory and would never raise the white flag of surrender.

She was something else and everywhere she went people took notice and stood in awe of how capable she was of never feeling pain.

During her time walking through the city she looked at her feet and noticed that no longer were egg shells there when she danced but they were there even when she wasn’t dancing…

She needed to become stronger, tougher, feel no pain.

She was alone in the big world of her own.

On an evening in her apartment she sat reading a book curled up on her beautiful couch.

She turned the page and from her window she heard a tune.  A song. She ignored the tune for some time until finally with irritability she went to look out her window to see where this noise was coming from.

Nothing was in site, no man carrying a boombox madly in love with, no children singing, no radio from the other apartments, nothing.

She went and sat back down and this time the song grew louder. She stopped. Now she was concerned because it sounded as if the song was right in her living room.

She stood up ready to defend herself. Ready to fight back at the beautiful piano music playing.

She stood very still and then she closed her eyes, her face grew weak and her brow no longer wrinkled up. She stood completely still and listened.

She finally recognized the tune. The tune from a long long long time ago when she danced with joy and followed the lover and His dance.

She ran to her closet to find the carpet she once danced upon, layer upon layer but they were no where to be found. She grew in sadness and thought, “I will never dance with joy again because I have lost the carpets, the only thing that can cover up these egg shells.”

The song grew louder and louder and her feet began to tap, heal toe, heal toe, heal toe.

Her hands waved in the thin air and each joint moved a constant wave, all in unity, all together.

Her head tiled back she raised herself on her toes.

When her heals touched the floor, her eyes shot open.

She looked below her feet and no egg shells were to be found.

Tears streamed down her face and she fell to her knees.

Joy had returned and she could now feel pain, YES! she exclaimed in happiness. I can feel my own pain!

She danced and danced and danced and when her feet were tired, when her joints were in pain, she simply stopped. Joy continued to live within but the dance would come and go when the pain was alleviated.

Pain was her friend and she listened to her as a best friend would listen to a friend. Pain was good to the dancer.

By: Elizabeth Wheeler Brereton Andrews

First there was he - then there was him - then there was 3 - and then there were them.

Oh then there was she.

The eyes to the gateway of the soul tell all but not all look - a lot turn away but I for one could not see just a person but I saw a soul.

Let me start with the he:

charming, subconscious, locked down by guilt covered up by the title “manliness”

lured in he took me under, opened pandoras box but who said you couldnt close it?

He with those eyes was shame, weariness, pride, addiction, and unheard.

Second we go to him:

him was available, him was charmed as charm could be, him had more than just pain, him had weak pain,

his pain was soft, him was a drink too many and once started it wasn’t easy to stop, him was on repeat as for she was on track one.

Him with those eyes of soft pain being rubbed away let out light of such deep care, guilt, shame, frustration, pride, out of control yet fighting for the drivers seat..

Thirdly we go to 3:

third was different, third was unlike any other, third was curiosity, third was another drink too many, third was a desperate,

third was not so sure, third was eyes really too dark, third was honestly a true mistake, third was availability

The third with those eyes of darkness, the third with the eyes of shock, happiness, satisfied, feeling lucky, hopefulness, the third had eyes of unknown emotion.

Last but least there was them:

them was hesitant, them was unsure, them felt way out the ball park, them felt not sober, them was looking for change

them saw the bottomless pit, them tuned in and dropped out, them was alone, them didn’t know life, them was on a marry go round,

round and round and round and round

Them with those eyes of complete comfortability, them with eyes of complete sadness, them with eyes of complete unsettledness, no shame, no guilt, all fame, all glory, all worship, no truth

them noticed but didn’t have the eyes to really see.

Then there was she. She with those little titties and fat belly just like princess Nokia would sing on my ears. She brought wonder and breathe of fresh air. She was the she of my heart.

Who am I though to see into the eyes of he, him, 3, them and she and judge?

By: Elizabeth Wheeler Brereton Andrews

lace she wrapped him in.

Lace so soft, so seductive, so breathable, lace was her choice of murder.

Lace she wrapped him up in her arms, holding loosely yet grabbing the strings of his heart.

Killing him slowly she chose the best of the best lace.

Lace.

Wrapped in a package she placed her gifts so gently on his body.

She softly stroked every inch of his skin with her lace, her skin of lace.

Lovely and lacey she stood magnetic to her opposite, he moved closer and closer till his velcro attached to her lace.

Stuck intertwined they swayed back and forth.

Lace. Lace lace

The best of the best.

Lacey dazed, smoothly, swiftly, calmly, no rush, no place to be, no time on the clock.

Only need is for velcro to meet lace.

Lace breathed softly, swiftly, oozing out her lovely sounds and velcro rolled his eyes back an forth in a land of dreams yet fully awake.

Lace and velcro.

first came the lace, skin of lace, face of the sun and body of the landscape of hawaiian islands, her beaches wet, her palm trees sturdy, swaying back and forth, back and forth.

By: Elizabeth Wheeler Brereton Andrews

crackle, its like a bubble gum wrapper that you twist between your fingers when your waiting on your waitress to return.

its like picking on that hang nail when your waiting in traffic.

its like the tapping of your foot when your waiting on your friend to show up for coffee.

its the habit of thumbing your phone as your get the latest updates from not your friends.

its the zoning out when someone carries on with a story that could have been 5 minutes.

its the realization that your walking way faster than your date and you don’t want to seem like the type of person who rushes so you awkwardly slow down so the man feels more in charge and in control of the pace.

its when you don’t know what to order on a menu so you don’t pick anything.

its when your friend goes to the bathroom when your at a bar and you sit by yourself hoping no hunter finds you as prey and makes the pounce.

its the feeling when you go out with your friend and they think your a couple.

its the feeling when your mom calls and you tell her nothing of which is really going on in you life and say your totally fine.

By: Eizabeth Wheeler Brereton Andrews

If  time and space connected.

The bridge between time and space.

Or wait could the 2 become one, with a collision of power, collision of extreme passion.

Time and space, the space between the two gets lost in the abyss of the unknown.

Time is patient. The face of time is fixated on the schedule, the doing, the achieving, the success, the protocol, the determined solution leaving no room for wandering, no room for question, no room for mistake.

Space is everything. Every thought you could imagine, every molecule in every atom, every emotion in every living thing, every spoon, fork, knife that is held, every piece of laughter pieced together with weeping, space contains infinite detail, the focal lens of space magnifies even the smallest grain of sand down to its root. Space does not judge, space does not close doors to possibilities, space contains unlimited possibilities of freedom, freedom of mind, freedom of the heart, freedom from every vibration that causes tension. In space there is fluidity, no disconnect, no fraying of the rope, no room for negativity.

They both have their advantages and their disadvantages. Nor one or the other is absolutely pure, there are strands of equiset imperfections in both, yet not a cheek is turned.

Some how the imperfections draw others closer, the imperfections bring about this unity that anything outside time and space cannot fathom or understand.

Time and space. Time and space you can touch, you can feel, you can see, you can sense it all around. The stagnant things of life you will soon sense have no time, they have  no space, there is no life and your energy will not be attracted. Soon you will only attract the things of time and space.

When the two collide, there is something magical, the colors burst, the diamonds dance, the fingers move slowly, the eyes shut and open wide, the mind finds deeper understanding, the observations of the eyes become more and more. The door is open for time and space to constantly be a reality and no longer like a light switch turned off and on.

Time is beautiful, sitting with time makes you peaceful, makes you realize that time is not against you but time is with you, she sits and her patience compels you to be still, time is doing her job and she waits in silence for you to make a move, to jump in the air, to shout at the top of your lungs, for you to dance, for you to pick her up and carry her with you. Time does her job and she asks you to do yours, live freely, live patiently, live in the stillness, for she is not against you, use her as a tool and you will see she has more to offer than what we know. Take her back and she will show you history, take her forward and she will show you what is to come, take her in the present and she will sway with you.

Space is a funny man, space will sometimes seem unpredictable, space sometimes has a mind of its own, like a valve of the heart it can consistently open and close right in perfect unison with the earth and than other times its like a heartache and space is uncontrollable. Caught in space is like being in a tornado, in the eye however. Space is thrilling, space can not be thought of or just a dream, space has to be experienced and you only feel its vibrations of energy when your in it, you can’t carry it with you if you step out of space, stay in the arena. Space is valuable, it has wonders upon wonders, mysteries beyond mysteries, there is something in space that the body, soul and mind need.

Time and space connect, they connect you and I, they connect the unapproachable, they connect the races, they connect the people groups, they connect the living and nonliving, they connect the broken, they connect opposite opinions, they connect the angry with the peaceful, they connect the wind and storm, they connect the sun and rainbow, they connect the cocoon and the butterfly, they connect the gun to the deer, they connect the lying tongue to the truthful tongue, they connect the unseen to the things seen.

I used to think that perfection was something that could actually be attained. 

Silly I know. 

But lets really look at this: 

Us as humans can get caught in the fact that we need to live up to something or someones expectation of us. I mean the whole idea of pleasing someone is fine but when we eventually realize we can't make everyone happy...we hit a brick wall.

Messes bring organization.

Storms bring a calming sea.

Avalanches bring new snow.

Fires bring new purities.

Exfoliation gets rid of the old skin and allows the new to shine.

It is okay to be in a pit. It is okay to be in a valley. In those darkest times when there seems to be no existence of the God you thought you believed in is when a beautiful metamorphosis is taking place. 

Out of the ashes comes beauty.

Out of the fire comes something stellar. Something so beautiful, so unique, so incomparable. 

Out of the fire comes more people looking like Jesus.

Out of the storm comes an endurance of hardship that will stay with you for the rest of your life.

When you are trying to keep the sails right to fight the storm and stay on course, you realize your muscles are physically not equipped for the storm you are facing. It causes you to give up. To GIVE UP. Thats right to give up. I used to believe that giving up had a negative connotation but I have come to realize that giving up on fighting the storm is only the beginning.

So lets begin: Stop fighting the storm. Maybe even dare to sleep as the storm carries you through the night into the unknown. I know its a scary thought but hey when you awake there is always a sunrise and you'll be able to explore a new place, you never know where you’ll end up.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g6_BLuhr0HQ&list=RDadBA-1S5qrs&index=2

Skip to 11 mins. 

The King is not your enemy.

Watch at what battle you are choosing to fight.

Don't pick a fight with the wrong enemy.

Who is the enemy?

Remember who IS FOR YOU and WHO IS AGAINST YOU.

Who are you accusing?

What weapons are you using?

Let me throw this out there:

Jesus. My God. I firmly believe He knows exactly what you are going through. He sees the anguish, the frustration, the temptation, the anger, the shame, the guilt, the anxiety, the fear, the abuse, the torture, HE SEES IT ALL. 

We feel that if He can see it then why doesn't He take it away?

When you see someone in pain, do you take it away or do you stand beside them and say “I hope you feel better.”

Jesus can heal and relieve you from ANYTHING in an instant. You can touch His robe and be healed instantly. He is also a friend who will just stand beside you as you go through your anger and all your shenanigans. Sometimes He will just BE there. Just standing there, not saying anything, just staying close to you. 

With that being said there is a gift He gave: what did Jesus pour out that is still effective today, tomorrow and forever more?

His blood.

His blood is sufficient for all those things I listed. When he shed that blood He said “It is finished.”

He has already paid the price. He died so that in this present time of trouble you could live and be FREE in HIM. Not in your own self but by being covered in His blood you are free, pure, beautifully free to be imperfect. 

Crazy I know. 

Now its a little bit of story time: 

So the Lord gave me this mental picture to teach me on what to do with my thoughts.

When a thought comes in. A new thought, a memory, anything that does not have the seal of the Lord, anything that brings me down instead of up, anything that is made for condemnation and not grace; those are the thoughts Im speaking of. 

I see me on a little sidewalk in London. I see me walking with a letter in my right hand (the letter representing the thought). I pass on my right a red mailbox. I toss the letter in the mailbox and keep walking. As I pass the mailbox, Jesus is now walking on my right hand side and we engage in conversation and keep walking. 

The other day I went through this mental picture but as I walked away I turned behind me to see if the mailman was going to come to pick up the mail. I then thought, “Well what does the mailman do with my letter?”

I looked at Jesus. 

“Are my thoughts really being changed or is this just a temporary fix?”

Jesus had more to show me in this mental picture.

There was a step I was leaving out.

Jesus and I walked back to the mailbox.

Reaching inside I picked up a letter sealed in an envelope and what He said next freaked me out...

“Open it.”

“Why on earth Jesus would I even want to read this letter? why even look at it?! Why entertain it? I thought that was totally against you! I thought I was just suppose to pass it off! No way...”

His eyes are what compelled me to trust Him.

I open the letter and I read.

Jesus takes a pen and crosses out a part of the letter that needed to be gone.

I said, “Well that doesn't do anything...its still there Jesus...its just covered up. Just because you cross it out doesn't mean its gone.”

He then did something that took my breath away.

He took His index finger and ran his finger along the words that He crossed out. His blood dripped from his finger onto the paper and he responded,

“Is my blood sufficient for you?”

“Do you believe?”

Guys, words cannot explain what this did to my whole thought life, my whole entire being is being transformed by this simple question. 

Is his blood sufficient for me today? Do I believe that I am fully covered from head to toe with the blood of Jesus, that when I walk I carry the grace of Jesus to give to others? Or am I too judgmental of myself that I can't forgive myself, I can't forgive others, I can't love myself and therefore I can't love others?

Jesus is enough. His blood was shed for once and for ALL. Doesn't matter where you are, where you have been, what you have done, or what you are doing. Jesus is ready for you to embrace His blood that was shed for you. 

Kneeling at the cross, you will be drenched in his incredible love for you. Come before Him, bring Him your mess, bring Him your anger, bring it ALL, He is READY FOR YOU. He is in love with ALL of you, not just for what you want to be and who you want to be. He is in love with you. Full stop. 

At the cross is where we lay down our shit (excuse my french) and become covered in his blood.

Just do it. Lay down the pride, lay it all down.  

He is good.