shouting into the wind

they drove to the coast for the day. she had some props to stage and photograph for a piece she was writing. she invited him along for company, for help and because she loved him.

it wasn’t a good weather day at the beach. the temperature was cold and the sky was overcast. the wind blew hard. after parking the car, they got out their cameras to explore the treasures of the beach.

IMG_1916
photo credit: jane doe

it wasn’t long before he began walking the other direction, intently focused on unusual birds and adjusting camera settings. maybe today he would get perfect shots that would fix all the broken things.

IMG_1914
photo credit: jane doe

she watched him go, giving him time do what he loved. it was low tide, offering them a rare opportunity to see eddies and tide pools normally hidden in high tide. the wind and the waves formed intricate designs and patterns in the sand. she took a few photos as she admired the handiwork and creativity of the one who’d made it all.

after a while she needed his help.  she began calling his name as she walked toward him. to her surprise, he turned and walked the other direction, oblivious to her calls, to her existence on the beach with him. she started shouting his name hoping he would hear her voice above the wind, willing him to hear her deep calling to his.

suddenly, stark reality pierced her heart. tears and wind stung her eyes. she stopped shouting and stopped walking.  she stood still in the wind watching him walk further away from her.

she realized he wouldn’t have needed to hear her if he saw her and honored her in his heart. he would have sensed her need and heard her calling him in his spirit.

but he couldn’t honor her because he didn’t honor father. and there were things blocking his vertical relationship with his abba. they were cameras, lenses, flash drives, birds, animals, all good things, yes, but they’d become idols.

the very gifts he’d been given were now stumbling blocks as he looked to them for identity and fulfillment. every day, he put them first, blocking the goodness, love and healing father wanted to pour into him.

those good things caused blindness, a tunnel vision in every part of his life. he was unable to see anyone else because he was focused on himself. similar to a funhouse mirror, the tunnel vision was destroying the very relationships he said mattered most to him.

vertical relationships with father, jesus and holy spirit must be correctly aligned for horizontal relationships with people to work.

first things first.

jane doe productions © 2018

 

 

waking up

it was a saturday morning. her son slept in while she rose early to have coffee and time with father god. it was her usual routine nearly every day, coffee and worship before anything else.

she went into the kitchen to make breakfast for the two of them. buster the cat took his place on a stool opposite her across the counter. he liked to observe what his ‘mummy’ did in the kitchen. she was the only mum he’d ever known, the first living creature he saw when he opened his eyes as a kitten.

with breakfast going on the stove, she called to her growing teenager to come downstairs. it wasn’t long after her call she heard his footsteps on the stair treads. his face was ashen when he got to the main floor. he was upset, nearly in tears.

“honey, whatever is the matter?” “mom, i had two dreams last night. one them really shook me up.”

she was silent as she waited for him to gather himself. when he was seated at the table, she quietly encouraged him. “tell me.”

“well, the first one upset me the most. i’ll tell you that one.” and he began to describe the dream to her.

“i saw this field with all these huge rocks in it. except the rocks weren’t rocks. they were people all curled up, sleeping. and they needed to be woken up.

 

boulders-336523_960_720
photo credit: pixabay

 

some of the rocks (people) woke up real easy when someone touched them. others took more effort, like they had to be shaken. and the last group was very hard to wake up. it took a long time. it was like they were dead.” his voice trembled.

she drew in a breath, then asked him the question. “which group were you in?”

“i was in the last group.” her heart cried inside, but she said nothing. instead, she served them breakfast and they continued to talk about the dream. she knew what it meant. she saw it in the future.

it was specific to the next awakening father god was bringing to his beloved humanity and creation. it was the manifestation of the sons of god. it was the restoration of all things. father had spoken to her about this on their walks.

now, her son had gotten a glimpse of what some of it would look like. and it would not be easy. it would take love, patience, grace, all those gifts father had given to his people.

when he was done eating, he went back to his room to write the dreams in his notebook. she kept those dreams tucked away for safe keeping. the one with the rocks was especially important.

years went by. she’d moved across the country. she gave the recordings of the dreams back to him during the packing process.

more years went by. it was time for the awakening to begin. it began slowly at first. she heard the sound, a great rumbling from the deep ocean waters on the west coast. she heard it in her spirit and felt the vibration as she drove highway 101 south, the coastal highway. it was the anniversary of asuza street, a monumental spiritual anniversary.

two more years passed. holy spirit reminded her of her son’s dream of the field of rocks that were really people. she asked her son about his dreams, but he didn’t remember them. she felt some sadness. part of the dream had come to pass. but all was not lost.

it was time for the people to wake up, for creation to wake up. the ones who were already awake ran quickly to awaken the ones who were light sleepers. they jumped right up and ran to wake up others. and so it began.

as she talked with her son on the phone one night, she talked about her adventures here in her new home, how they reminded her of narnia and all they learned from father god watching those movies.

he was silent as he listened to her tell stories with passion and excitement. she asked him, “don’t you remember?”

his response caught her off guard. “no, i really don’t. you do sound like you’ve lost it, though, mom.” he laughed a little bit.

then she remembered his dream again. he was in the group that was the hardest to wake up. so she would love him and remind him who he really was until he was fully awakened.

are you awake?

(copyright © 2017 jane doe)