I sometimes wonder what it means to be caught up or lead by the spirit or a seer or purposeful or chosen or priestly or a son of God.
The Gospel. The Message. The Key of David. Intimacy. Prophetic Jargon.
Free Will. Pentecostal. Seeker. Lutheran. Orthodox.
Sometimes I wonder why we often we try to think that what we are doing is the will of Abba - the righteous plan that He will say is Good. How could any of us create any sort of structure (financial/ministerial/phy
My hope is built on notheing less than Jesus' blood and righteousness.
I dare not trust the sweetest frame but wholly lean on Jesus' name.
One thing I have meditated on lately is that my life is to be a sacrifice. I am filled and inspired by the Word of God. Perhaps not perfect, but drawn to relationship with the Pillar of the Universe. His creation, love and being surrounds me, everywhere I turn, and I only need to open my eyes. I find myself understanding Grace, Jesus, as the source of Life. Jesus is life, reborn. Jesus is life. JESUS IS LIFE. He is consistent, never changing. He is sovreign, powerful, unmatched in splendor and righteous fury. He is an anchor steadying my fleeting whims, the cornerstone, the foundational element of the heavens, a precisional artist who governs the very stroke of a brush which forms light on a vagary. Creation is obedient. Creation groans because He made it groan. Everything that is wishes to be one with Him. How can I say, woe is me? He breathed into the dust, called me Brandon, and said, "You are good. My son, with whom I am pleased, for whom I have made plans, cast vision." Peculiar.
When darkness seems to hide His face I rest on His unchanging grace.
In every high and stormy gale my anchor holds within the veil.
So that's it then? Right? So how do I go on tomorrow? Now that there is a bottom line to my purpose? I have won the heart of the Creator, consumed the Word, and tasted a piece of the fruit. You know, the kind that gives you knowledge and wisdom. I have now established my narrow minded arrogance. Now I say, "WOE IS ME." For it has been revealed to me that I have just made this about my purpose, and my direction. If "I" am anything, I am proved as a creation, not an artist. The clay. The anointed, not the annointing. One that is given life, not as a container, but an intangible sparkle in the Alpha's eye. It is about His pleasure in me. It isn't about my fluffy goosepimply "experience." HIM. HIS.
The Gospel. The Message. The Key of David. Intimacy. Prophetic Jargon.
Free Will. Pentecostal. Seeker. Lutheran. Orthodox.
Sometimes I wonder why we often we try to think that what we are doing is the will of Abba - the righteous plan that He will say is Good. How could any of us create any sort of structure (financial/ministerial/phy
My hope is built on notheing less than Jesus' blood and righteousness.
I dare not trust the sweetest frame but wholly lean on Jesus' name.
One thing I have meditated on lately is that my life is to be a sacrifice. I am filled and inspired by the Word of God. Perhaps not perfect, but drawn to relationship with the Pillar of the Universe. His creation, love and being surrounds me, everywhere I turn, and I only need to open my eyes. I find myself understanding Grace, Jesus, as the source of Life. Jesus is life, reborn. Jesus is life. JESUS IS LIFE. He is consistent, never changing. He is sovreign, powerful, unmatched in splendor and righteous fury. He is an anchor steadying my fleeting whims, the cornerstone, the foundational element of the heavens, a precisional artist who governs the very stroke of a brush which forms light on a vagary. Creation is obedient. Creation groans because He made it groan. Everything that is wishes to be one with Him. How can I say, woe is me? He breathed into the dust, called me Brandon, and said, "You are good. My son, with whom I am pleased, for whom I have made plans, cast vision." Peculiar.
When darkness seems to hide His face I rest on His unchanging grace.
In every high and stormy gale my anchor holds within the veil.
So that's it then? Right? So how do I go on tomorrow? Now that there is a bottom line to my purpose? I have won the heart of the Creator, consumed the Word, and tasted a piece of the fruit. You know, the kind that gives you knowledge and wisdom. I have now established my narrow minded arrogance. Now I say, "WOE IS ME." For it has been revealed to me that I have just made this about my purpose, and my direction. If "I" am anything, I am proved as a creation, not an artist. The clay. The anointed, not the annointing. One that is given life, not as a container, but an intangible sparkle in the Alpha's eye. It is about His pleasure in me. It isn't about my fluffy goosepimply "experience." HIM. HIS.
His oath, His covenant, His blood - Support me in the whelming flood
When all around my soul gives way He then is all my Hope and Stay.
To live is to know You. All I want is to remain in You. To die is to gain You. Jesus You are my hope. Jesus You are my Bridegroom. You are the reason I sing. You are the reason I even have a place in my soul called desire. Jesus you are Love. You are the Light of the World. Lord may the song of my life be the one that provokes all heaven to a song of the recognition of a Holy, Pure, Powerful Being. May that song continue as a bowed gesture of honor to a Zealous God, the reverent, never-ending coronation of The One Who is Timeless. He was to come, is coming, and Will come.
When He shall come with trumpet sound, Oh may I then in Him be found!
Dressed in His righteousness alone, faultless to stand before the throne!
Jesus, please be the center of my life. Please show me yourself, a merciful, graceful King, to whom all praise is due. One with perfect justice and provocation of peace. Jesus please show me to your feast, that I might serve you, adorn you with my praise, my purpose which is adoration. Christ. Elohim. My Jealous Infatuated Lover. My King. El Shaddai. Jehova. My Salvation. My Grace. Lord may my words be the fabric that clothes You. May I be honored to wash your feet, and give up a years wages to begin to show you my thankfulness, my love for You. My hope is that my devotion would not be muddied with the concept of doing good, but being good, that I might be a pleasure to You. May I be the object of your affection, the seat of your emotion, the one who can draw the end of the sceptor, approval of the King.
On Christ the solid Rock I stand, all other ground is sinking sand, all other ground is sinking sand.
Oh Father, please make yourself known to your servant. Please make yourself known to the remnant, and breathe fresh passion and fire into that remnant, the saints who so faithfully have prayed, petitioned Your Heart, that Your Kingdom may reign, in Jerusalem, in Judea, Samaria, and throughout the earth.
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