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And He led me
right straight into it. Into the Exodus “-ites” battles.
telling me how to fight the “-ites.” My Canaanites, Amorites, Hittites,
Perizzites, and Jebusites.
The way is
dangerous and He’s telling me the only way out is the way in.
But this Angel
sent by the One Whose name is in Him knows what He’s doing. He’s clearing the
And He knows
where He’s taking me. Good thing, because I couldn’t begin to get there myself.
And I wonder what it’s going to look like.
Something beautiful somehow. I can’t imagine, really. Not the whole of it. But I’m
seeing it little by little. The clearing. The beautiful. The silence and the
“Beware of Him, this Angel,” says the
One Whose name is in Him.
I laugh out the
incredulous “Whaaat? Beware of the Angel?
What about the “-ites” and earth shaking roar, “Devour!”
that?” How like God to answer my question with His question. My incredulity with
His credibility. His ability to believe. That is His credibility. Not mine.
I want a “real”
answer. So I ask again, “What about that “-ite” battle cry? Do you hear them
roar? My skin is shaking!” He knows what I really want to know “what about.”
credulity? Trusting My credibility? Believing what I know? I am the faithful
One.” And He’s speaking pisteuo to
me. I recognize the words trust, believe, and faith.
words!” comes unbidden to mind. Because trust, believe and faith are ammunition
for the likes of me with trust issues.
And pisteuo means, “To entrust something to
someone. The word can also include the notion of obeying.”
is everything to me and that “someone”
is The One.
The “what about”
is all about this.
About Him believing in what He’s saying. About me believing
because there is nothing and no one more believable than God who speaks through
Angel and believes every one of His own words.
And about doing what He says because
He Himself does what He says.
“Beware to obey His voice.” It’s the
first thing I’m told to do about this Exodus twenty-three Angel. Yes,
Exodus 23:21. Right after God says what this Angel is going to do about me.
short for “be aware?” I think so.
centering. “Be aware of His voice.” Wary in battle, yes. Alert in danger, yes.
Be aware.To obey. His voice.
Because what He’s
saying is more earth shattering than “-ite” roar.
“Do not bow
down to their gods or serve them,” The Voice says.
And I know some
of their names. Self-righteousness. Bitterness. Unforgiveness. Fear. It’s
choice not to bow. Not to serve. And I chose. And choose. And, yes, fear has
thrown me down and seized me til I shake unconscious, but thrown down is not
“Drink all Holy
Spirit. Swallow it down sweet,” The Voice says. “I will set your bounds from
sea to sea and from desert to River Euphrates.”
I like this
part. It’s the part I’ve been praying for since before my knees begged for the
yellow life preserver I store under bed and since before I began to see the clearing
and the beautiful and the silence and the song.
And well, “Euphrates” means “Sweet Water.”
And, yeah, it’s sweet.
God has some skin in this, too. He
clothed His Son in the same kind of skin I’m wearing. It’s epidermis. I look it
up because why isn’t it just “dermis?” Dermis means skin. What is the “epi”
part of the skin I wear? That the very Son of God Himself wore?
It’s “the outer
nonvascular, non-sensitive layer of skin, covering the true skin” (Dictionary.com).
skin on skin.
wore the same “epi” skin that breathes in and sweats out and covers porous thin
the dermis that feels and bleeds out blood and pours out water.
Holy poured. Through holey pours.
The Holy poured.
The “It is finished!” shook
earth to core and “-ites” to death and the battle was the war and won the war.
There are battles. They have to be fought. But I’m not fighting for victory,
but from victory. And I fight covered
in Holy Skin on skin.
skin changes everything.
pisteuo pistol. Because pisteuo declares God’s faithfulness.
Kaboom!And pisteuo declares my trust, belief and hope in Him. Kaboom! Boom!
I’m learning what it feels like in hand. And how to aim it. And how not shoot
myself in the foot. Thankful for this pisteuo
notion of obedience.
guess what? I’m not waving it around like a mad woman!
I’m fighting like a girl. My camo is pink and I don’t like broken fingernails.
I’m fighting all epi-dermis.
a word. Epi-soul. It has to be. Because I’ve felt my soul sweat chill and hot
fear. And because I’m in this and not just skin deep.
in it believing the holy is the true when the “-ites” fake it.
it because I’m not a deserter and don’t own a surrender flag.
it because I’m kept in by this crazy Exodus Angel sent by the One Whose name is
in Him and who isn’t afraid of anything and who says, “If you’re going to
beware of anything here, beware of Me and if you’re going to listen to anything
here, listen to Me.”
it because I can be at peace. Not in pieces.
can be whole. Not shot full of holes.
can be at ease. Not un-eased by dis-ease.
can drink Euphrates sweet. Not swallow salty.
I will be. And am.
“I will cut
them “-ites” off, hon.’” I can’t help smile at this crazy tough Angel.
send Myfearbefore you… and big
ol’ hornets the size of Texas…and, hon’, they won’t know what hit ‘em when they
high tail out-a-there and run scared ‘cross the border of Mexico.” Yeah, this
Angel wears it right.
I’ll draw up the lines from this here sea to that there sea, and from the
desert to the Rio Euphrates.” I laugh and raise pisteuo pistol overhead and fire off three freedom shots like
fireworks on the Fourth of July.
phrases. Segments. Just a verse here and a verse there. It’s my life ordinary.
for this Exodus Angel. Sent by the One Whose name is in Him. Sent to lead me
straight into battle fray. (see Exodus 23:20-33)
while smashing godless pillars to smithereens I’m living all routine.
meals still need making and laundry washed and errands run.
are those pillar pieces on my kitchen floor? I get broom. And where’s the lemon
scented Pledge? It’s all routine to me by now.
And I forget it’s uncommon. Because
there is this Angel speaking to me. I hear the voice of He Whose name is in
me crazy, but I’ve been hearing His voice for more years than I’d care to admit
lest I be admitted. Institutionalized. And just to be clear, an institution is “a
place where an organization takes care of people for a usually long period of
have been instituted. It’s a three Person organization called The Trinity. Nice name. And They’ve been
caring for me for ever.
Exodus Angel. I’ve been praying His own words scrawled convenient across a page
that falls open permanent. The spine is bent here. And I am too.
Verse by verse.
Little by little because that's how He said He'd do this.
Year by year. Because He said it would take more than a year to get there.
Praying to get to the “I will set your
bounds from sea to sea…and from the desert to the River” part.
happened. On Wednesday. And I'll have more on that next time. But do you know what never occurred to me through all the
praying for this? Only that “I will set your bounds” means change.
Change happened on Wednesday.
I’m praying, “Hold me and my German tight to You, Lord.”
the verses. The measures. That made twenty-four years rhyme familiar rhythm
will be different now. Because change happened.
Tight” is a twenty-four year long song that was. But the song is going to be
different and I don’t know what the words are. What rhymes? What rhythm?
Institution has been humming it all along. So maybe there will be a something
kind of déjà-vu about it when I start hearing it more clear. And two-stepping
to it? Yeah. I think so. Til I know it by feel and by heart.
I sing “Held Tight” as a conclusion prayed for.
to wake Breakfast
you so “Hold
him tight for me, Lord”
to do First things first Meet
with You Holy
part so Hold
us tight for You, Lord”
heart strings Tie me
Morning, night and noon
us crazy tight to You
deep voice, “On
grates against a mouth full of the acceptable prayers. Theprayers we hope would still the great and
strong wind that tears open mountains. That would weave our world seamless when
earthquake shakes it down. The prayers that would storm fire with flood, would
put it out, but it’s the whisper that takes breath right out of lung. (see 1
still whisper. And I know the voice.
whispering? The Ancient of Days. That’s who. The Light. The Redeemer of time.
if I really believe that, then I must listen all still. To the whisper. Though it
seems so unacceptable…outrageous, really… that I hardly dare admit it to
anyone. I’d be accused of listening to the wrong voice. Accused of lacking
doesn’t it take faith to be still? Faith to trust the still? Trust to accept
what lies still because it’s held still in God heart?
this the crux of pisteuo? Of belief
and trust and at the same time hope? The crux in crucifixion and cross?
is born in writing upon God breast and God hand and engraved in Son of God palm.
The whisper was heard when sun stopped shining because world stopped spinning
because God stopped breathing.
then did Father heart leak pure tear and form River of Life that flows from His
throne? From the holy of holies behind the veil?
Throne Room River
the River of Life whisper “Life” because Son was dying and Father heart was
crying and Mary mother heart was all sword pierced?
it whisper when veil woven seamless tore in two after Son’s last words
shattered rocks cacophonous and shook the earth wide open?
loud, was the still. Bleeding stiller.
mayhem, outrageous whisper, “Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of
His saints” (Psalm 116:15).
who hears it?
led silent as sheep, hear. Those whose hope is pierced and held steady by it,
hear. Whose trust is nailed down and held still in the grip. Whose consolation
is knowing God. They hear the whisper. The outrageous, ”Precious…is….”
who close eyes and hug themselves tight as if they might split right down the
middle and those who believe all precious when life bleeds, hear.
they slip into the quiet outrageous. Enter the Presence. Where scarred hands
knit snagged soul unraveling.
Where spirit to Spirit is seamless weave because
seamless veil was torn.
Son to His Father.
Sheep to the Shepherd.
Life. Always life. Mortal and eternal.
there is the very hard precious. God knows it. The hard precious. The “Precious
in the sight of the Lord is the death of His saints” precious.
goes against flesh. This precious outrageous is whispered out-rage, “No! Not
maybe it’s heard most in the hang of life and death. When Christ-like nails
leave heart in hang til breath is not full.
of the sons and daughters of the Father Lord.
engraved in palm of His hand.
of those dying in body and those saints dying while still breathing because
their hearts are broken.
is precious in this? Could it be our wooly weakness? Our sheepish fear of
shadows? Our bleating?
doesn’t God find His own love for us precious? His pity on us precious? His
strength and comfort for us precious?
who He is…precious to Him…when we need who He is?
It’s all outrageous whisper.
There is a
valley of the shadow of death. Shadowed over. But doesn’t the Light of Light
overshadow with…light? And isn’t it true of His saints, and His sheep are
saint, that when death consumes us dead or alive, life is consummated?
Even consecrated? In us through Life
Conceived? As He
Himself the Begotten was conceived? In shadow holy? The whisper tells us so.
precious saints whisper these things back to Him. Answer, ”If this hour is this
kind of precious to You, may I not fall against You but into You. Press me into
Your pierced palm. Because I can’t.”
I close My fingers over you?” His palm is womb.
knit me together in my mother’s womb.” And who gets through this life without
soul snags and unraveling stitches?
care is intense. He labors for life. He knits in the ICU and the maternity
ward. He knits “precious is” whisper. He knits when hours fly and minutes
when soul runs long strand and tangled unravel, God whispers, “Precious…is….”
Hi! Welcome to this special little corner off the beaten track. I’m Carolyn-Elizabeth. The hyphen hasn't always been there, but it will be for the rest of my life because when the Lord gave me beauty for ashes and the oil of joy for mourning, He also gave me the most eloquent, simple hyphen and connected my given name to Carolyn-Elizabeth, which means, “Joyful Song-Set Apart for the Lord.”
Connecting with God’s heart is the theme which runs through each blog I post and book I write. My heart beats a little messy, but God’s heart is miraculous. So, I gather His miraculous into my messy and call it beautiful grace. Thing is, the holy whisper is stronger than any wilderness howl.
Whether you’ve been touring the world on-line and are just stopping by for a quick “hello,” or to kick your shoes off and stay awhile, your presence is a blessing to me. I hope my posts are a blessing to you.
Visit me on my website at: carolyn-elizabeth.com