The Fall (Pun Intended) of 2008

Through my daily readings back in The Fall of 2008, God was basically saying to me, “I have told you.” So I started to record in my journals what He told me then, and I am sharing these on my blog as the days unfold that were then foretold. As always,  honest sharing and civil discourse are most welcome. 

Lord, You have told me that I am Your scribe, that I am a beautiful scribe – YOUR beautiful scribe. Lord, these words of Jeremiah, these stories about him make me vibrate as though they actually happened to me. This story of Baruch the scribe writing everything down for You, Lord, and taking the scroll to be read to the others. The first hearers did hear Your warnings, but the king refused, even burning up the scroll. This reminds me of talking with someone after the first carotid surgery, who scoffed at me and said some kinds of people say:

“I will think about these things when I have time.”

I tried to tell her that the only time she will have will be the day after she is dead, and that will be eternity. But she remains impenetrable.

Child, you have written many things in your collection of Isaiah and Jeremiah during the October fast and in the days since. These pages will be My scroll. They are to be provided as a gift to others who will hear and heed. Child, these are life-saving lines.  These are lifelines. Be sure they are put into the seachest, for a fierce storm is coming, and people you love will need these when they are full of dread. I Am about to pour out the wine cup of My fury (Jeremiah 25:15).

My assurance to you is that these coming furies are necessary and a form of love, causing as many as will come to shriek in terror and melt in their hearts and, at last, see Me standing across the tumult with My arms wide open. The words you have written for Me on the “scroll” will assure your beloveds also. Assurance is needed, because it seems so insane to walk out onto water, especially this water. But they will, because of what you have written for Me, My beautiful scribe. Your work as My scribe is not yet done, so persevere, My darling, My lily in your home. You emit fragrance there; it is  wafting through the house and back to many who come to visit  [He named names].

Forgiveness, Child, is the fragrance a violet emits after it has been crushed under foot.  Purple and sweet – royal and humble – scorned and mocked for the sake of someone else:  ME. You are suffering for My sake!  Put down the edges of anger and go to sorrow, Child, and gratitude for the witness you are being given the opportunity to make.  “Forgive XXX, for she knows not what she does” has been your prayer, Child. And I hear you putting others at My feet: [more names].

Oh Lord!  Oh Lord! O Lord how long, O Lord? Yet You are keeping me safe and re-assured, blessed with many incidents that make me resonate. I am finding grace in the wilderness (Jeremiah 31:2). Oh Lord, for all these blessings and helps and forms of Favor, I do thank You, and I stand up now, God, to walk into this day to carry forth in this earthen vessel, to praise, to glorify Your Holy Trinity with all I have, all I am, all I ever want to be. It’s so beautiful, Lord, being one of Your scribes. I pray that someone will READ the words You publish through me. I know they are starting to hear Your songs…the songs You gave me when first You met me on the road and removed the blindfold from my eyes.

Thank You for using me at last, oh Lord. Thank You for making me an instrument who is finally being played by The Shepherd in the fields of harvest. Am I a flute, oh Lord? No, Child, you are a recorder.

Now is the time for people to run into Christ’s arms – not into a building, but into His arms. True. The story called The  Emperor’s New Clothes told of people who were convinced the king was adorned; you are like that child, the one could see that the king was not wearing a stitch. Be a warrior, Child, in knowing you see the truth and in praying that others will see in time. Be not a worrier that they will fail to see, for you have prayed My will for them, and it is My Will for the salvation of those for whom you have prayed. Your metron will find safe pasture! Point to me and pray for them! The way you point is twofold: (1) you sing My praises and (2) you publish My works. You will continue to find grace in the wilderness after I have poured out My wine cup of fury.

This photograph is by Liz Burnell.