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“I am my Beloved’s and He is mine—and there is blood between us, there is blood between us.”

So began a little song in my spirit this Sunday in church.

blood-of-jesusFor the past month or two, we have been partaking of the Lord’s Supper—Communion—every Sunday, as our pastor teaches on the concept of covenant and the various covenants given by God. I cannot fully describe the power that I have felt in partaking of the bread and wine each week, seeing the very heart of God on full display in front of the congregation in the poured out blood and broken body of Christ. If a picture speaks a thousand words, the display of the broken bread and wine—symbols of His surrendered life, His love—and receiving that life into the depths of our being speaks more than a thousand tongues could say.

In the broken bread, I see a Heart that was willing to be mocked and beaten, suffer painful misunderstanding and false accusation, indifference and betrayal, and to endure it all openly, willingly, humbly, for the sake of love. In the cross, God has set the most startling statement of love before mankind… He’s not playing, “He loves me, He loves me not…” He’s not dangling His love before us like a carrot on a stick, promising us His love if we shape up. No, His love was already poured out for us before we even took a thought towards Him.  He’s got His heart on His sleeve. He’s vulnerable. He’s hanging naked on a cross, with blood dripping down His body, down over the wood and onto the ground, and there is some of that blood in the garment that the soldiers are gambling for at the foot of the cross.

This is how much you are desired, Beloved. If you should ever forget, look at Me lifted up on the cross, my arms outstretched to embrace you, and know that I did it for you.

There is blood between us.

When I look at you, I remember My blood,

I remember the price I paid to redeem you.

Your value is forever set in my heart.

You are worth it.

And when He was on the cross, He looked out at creation and could see it only through the blood—His own blood, literally, for the blood running down from His forehead, mingled with his sweat, certainly ran down past His eyes, causing Him to behold the world through the cleansing flow, His own precious blood.

Yes, when He looks at us, He says, “There is blood between us.”

He will always and forever now see the world through His blood. He will never forget the price He paid. But that blood has no power to bring redemption to our lives until we apply it. When the nation of Israel left Egypt to begin their journey to the Promised Land, it was through blood-covered doors, the blood of a lamb for each house, a lamb that symbolizes the Greater Lamb. Those who exit a world of bondage and death through blood-covered doors can never forget that their freedom was bought at a price. Someone died so that we could go free.

 If we see the value—the necessity—of His shed blood, we will apply it to our lives, as the Israelites did the mantle and doorposts of their house. The value of the blood of Christ is of inestimable worth to every person who was born on planet earth. There is nothing more sacred, nothing worth more than His blood. Nothing! His blood is the only door out of bondage to sin and death. Do you see that there is no other door to Life than through this blood soaked door, the bloody door of the Lamb; the cross?

Even the application of the blood on the door speaks of two very powerful places that the blood will bring redemption in our lives. This blood on the “mantle” will bring a cleansing to our mind/thoughts and renew our minds to the mind of Christ. This blood on the “posts” will bring a cleansing to our arms/hands, redeeming us from bondage to sin and dead works and setting us free to do His works, so that our touch may heal creation.

But there’s more!

In every ancient culture, it was the shedding of blood that sealed a covenant. Missionaries and anthropologists speak of encountering tribes the world over who would make covenant with each other in blood; covenants that could not be broken, that were considered binding unto death.

Among other things, circumcision represents the shedding of blood to enter into covenant. And in the consummation of a marriage, it is the shedding of blood that seals the covenant.

As the scripture says, “the life is in the blood.” In the shedding of blood for the establishment of a covenant, there are many statements that are made, but certainly one of the strongest is, “I give you my life.”  For if life is in the blood, and I bleed for you, what I am giving you—in essence—is my life. I open up this body of skin and pour out of my inner life for you. I share the deepest and most sacred parts of me with you. I am willing to suffer and bleed for your sake. I am willing to pour out of my own life so that you can touch it, partake of it. I am no longer isolated within myself but my life is yours as yours is now mine. You have access to my blood and I have access to yours. How can we be separate now? We are one.

There is blood between us.

To my surprise, when I heard the Lord speaking that to my spirit, I heard in His voice not only the acknowledgement of the fact that I have received and applied His blood to my house, but also an acknowledgement of the blood I have shed for Him. What a wonder! How humbling. My blood does not purchase my redemption. It does not take away sin. But it does represent my willingness to enter into covenant with Him in the surrender of my life to Him. And He sees it, and calls it beautiful.

gustav_klimt_the_kiss For when we take up our crosses and follow Him, are we not also shedding our own blood in a figurative sense? When we lay down our lives for Him, choose to deny ourselves for His sake and the sake of the brethren, when we partake of His death, carrying around in our bodies the dying of the Lord, is there not a shedding of our blood in some sense? When we give ourselves to Him in the most intimate ways, opening bare our heart before Him, allowing Him to come in sometimes with a bitter north wind, sometimes with a refreshing south wind, but equally surrendered to Him in either account, is that surrender not in some sense the shedding of blood? Is this not a very real part of the covenant that we have entered into with Him? For there is no entrance into covenant union without the shedding of blood.

The Lord sees it as so, for He says, there is blood between us and it is not only My blood I see, beloved, but yours also. I see our shed blood, the mingling of our lives, My invitation and your response to it. As I suffered and laid down my life for you, I see your suffering and laying down of your life for Me and I will never forget it.

You may say, “oh, but my love is not fully abandoned to Him in the way you describe! My love is not consistent like His. I waver, I stumble in love. I’ve given Him my life and then I have run away from Him. I have opened my heart to Him and then closed it. I’ve slammed the door in His face! And so many times, I find myself doing the exact opposite of love, the exact opposite of what I want to do! What of me? How can a weak love such as mine be valued by someone as Perfect as Him? What does He say to imperfect, inconsistent love such as mine?”

The Song of Songs gives us a great insight to this question, for it is the question of every sincere lover of God.

Though there are many nuggets throughout this book that reveal the answer, I will pull out just one, in hopes that this small appetizer will send you on a journey of fulfilment and joyeous discovery into the Song of Songs, the Highest Love Song of God’s heart.

“You have ravished my heart,
My sister, my spouse;
You have ravished my heart
With one look of your eyes,
With one link of your necklace. (Song 4:9).

Notice first that His heart is ravished. Notice second that He calls her both His sister and His spouse, declaring that they are related by blood and by shed blood. But now notice what it is that ravishes Him—one look of her eye and one link of her necklace.

It is not yet the sustained and perfect gaze of unbroken peering into His soul. It is the timid but genuine glance towards Him. It is perhaps her first real gaze into Who He Is. And a deep recognition begins to stir in her as she beholds Him in truth and He knows it.

He knows that He is being seen by her and His heart is overcome!

Her gaze also speaks of the opening of herself to Him. No longer will she let shame cause her to hide her face. She will turn her open eyes fully towards His open eyes—and though she quickly glance down in initial embarrassment, He knows that the first glance will lead to others and eventually into locked gaze where she will behold the unending depths of love in His heart and she will believe and rejoice in His love for her. And likewise, she will allow Him to peer into the depths of her own heart.  And the very thought of it—the very beauty of the first glance, immature as it may be, ravishes His heart.

In the same way, He is moved by one link of her necklace. A necklace may represent many things, but what I primarily see her is that it adorns her neck, which speaks of her will. She is not stiff-necked or stubborn against Him. She may not be perfectly yielded yet, it may just be “one link” that He mentions, but it is so lovely His sight. In the one link, He sees her first surrender to Him. He sees the “yes” to Him that costs her something. But she has very little idea that every genuine yes to Him creates a new link in the crown that adorns her neck and beautifies her for all eternity.

In short, He who sees the end from the beginning, sees the faltering steps we take towards Him and they are beautiful in His sight. He sees the God-given desire to be wholly His and He sees that love drives her to press on towards Him–and continue onward–even when she stumbles and fails. And His heart is moved so deeply that that He declares, “You have ravished me!”

Oh Lord, how small our shed blood is in comparison to Yours! How imperfect in the laying down of our lives! How kind You are to acknowledge our response to You in such a loving way and humble way! How unthinkable that our response of love should mean so much to You! That we should be treasured in such a way as this! Oh, the unfathomable depths of Your generous heart! Who is a Lover like You?

I look down at His feet and at His hands that still hold the scars where He wrote my name in them, and I can only worship.

fiery seal of love For the truth is, it takes God to love God. Only God can truly love God. A heart that says, “I will shed blood for you” is only a reflection of the Original Heart, the First Heart to ever suffer for the sake of love, for He is the Lamb slain from the foundation of the ages. Therefore, when He sees a response within us that says yes to covenant, yes to receiving His shed blood and yes to laying down our lives so that we may come into union with Him and His Body–His people–He sees Himself.  He beholds His own nature in another, and His heart is deeply moved.

Oh, there is so much more to say, but I dare not overwhelm the reader!

Can you say, “Lord, there is blood between us”? Have you received His blood? Have you looked—deeply looked–upon His sacrifice? Have you seen His heart—for YOU? Have you applied it to the mantle and doors of your own “house”? Have you partaken of His blood and body? Have you put your faith in Him? Have you tasted of His love?

gustav-klimt-the-kiss-detail-4083In the Song of Songs, the Shulamite declares “a bundle of myrrh is my beloved to me, that lies all night between my breasts.” Myrrh speaks of suffering, as the plant is pierced many times to bring forth the fragrant, healing resin. When she says she holds Him between her breasts, this speaks of keeping Him close to her heart. In other words, all through the night, through the dark seasons, she comforts herself in remembrance His great love, His great sacrifice. The remembrance of His suffering for her sake is a like a sweet fragrance that stays continually fresh in her thoughts. She can never doubt how deeply she is loved every time she breathes in the fragrance of the myrrh, so she holds it over her heart where the fragrance can permeate her senses. The very scent draws worship out of her heart and she finds herself continually saying, “I will remember Your blood, I will remember Your love. I will never forget You. I will never forget what You did for me, my Beloved, my dear friend and companion. I hold You reverently in the most sacred part of my being.

“I will let this love overflow from the banks of my heart and wash out of me into creation so that others will see who You are and love You too. I will speak of You, I will tell of Your wonderful ways, I will declare Your Name, and I will love You, oh Lord my God,

I will love you,
I will love you,
I will love you.

For there is blood between us and I will never forget.

And in the echo of His voice deep within my spirit, the reciprocal way in which love flows, I hear Him speaking back to me through my own words.

My friend, if you love Him, read the paragraph above one more time, but this time, listen to Him speaking to you. Can you hear His heart? Can you hear how much your willingness to give Him everything–or perhaps now, it is just that small thing—but can you see how much it means to Him? Can you fathom that He will hold the memory of it sacred throughout all the ages? Can you taste of the wonder to which He has called us? Can you see clearly the inferiority of anything less than total abandonment to Him? Can you see how dead and worthless all idols are, contrasted against such a loving, living, eternally beautiful heart such as His?

For if we truly see the value of His shed blood, our response can only be one thing—

Here I am, Lord! I am YOURS!

There is blood between us and I will never forget it.

~Mercy Aiken

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“This old guitar taught me to sing a love song
It showed me how to laugh and how to cry
It introduced me to some friends of mine
And brightened up my days
And helped me make it through some lonely nights
What a friend to have on a cold and lonely night”
–John Denver

As my time in Africa winds down, there is a goodbye that I was not expecting to hit my heart so sentimentally–and that is saying goodbye to my guitar. Guitars are not easy to come by in these parts and I am happy to leave mine here for others to learn on and enjoy. Even so, part of me feels like I am walking away from part of my body…like I am leaving a finger or foot behind me in Africa.

Kids Assembly

It’s not like I was ever great on it. I wouldn’t dignify what I do on the guitar by calling it “playing” but I do nonetheless manage to bang out a few melodies (as long as they stay within the confines of a basic 3 chord progression). And sometimes (whenever I let it happen) the Spirit gets ahold of me in the midst of a melody and I am transported to another place.

This old guitar taught me to find the voice of my heart when I could hear it no other way. With this guitar, I learned pray and to pour out my soul to God. My thumping strumming somehow helped to open my ear and to sing His very song back to myself and to others. This guitar provided an outlet for the Spirit, an on-ramp into the heavenlies, and a voice to the unutterable depths of my heart.

I know, I can always get another guitar, but this is the guitar that I learned to worship on. It has been with me all over Arizona, Missouri, Louisiana, North Carolina, and now Kenya. Here is where it will probably spend the rest of its life.

The guitar is a Fender. Now, I can’t resist throwing in these lines: “My old transister’s sounding just as clangy as Fender. My radiator growls like Elvis after Sunday dinner…” Good ol’ Maria McKee!

Anyway…

I bought it right after I graduated from college and took it up to the North Rim of the Grand Canyon, where I spent the summer picking at my sore fingers and lamenting my lack of ability to strum and sing at the same time. Finally I had a breakthrough. A miracle due to the fact that it was fairly easy for me to move from Em to Am to G. My first song was an old coal miner balled called “The L & N Don’t Stop Here Anymore” which I learned from Michelle Shocked’s first album. (“I was born and raised at the mouth of Hazerd Holler, coal carts roll and rumble past my door.”) I knew now that I was going to hit the bigtime. My next dream was to move to Nashville. Ha ha…pie in the sky, but I figured if I could at least walk around the Grand Ol’ Opry for a while, maybe something in the air would help me turn into a Nashville cat, or at least a distant, slobbering cousin of one.

It wasn’t too long before God stepped into my life in a radical way. Instead of Nashville, I found myself living out in the boondocks of Arizona, down a dusty dirt road that was close to Po-Dunkville and no where else.

It was there by myself in my little cabin, with my guitar, where I learned to sing and flow in the Spirit, with no one to hear but God. It was a divine season, hand-crafted for me by my Father; my own school of the Spirit, my personal seminary, my tomb and my womb. For much of those 7 years, all I needed was my Bible, my Strong’s Concordance, and my guitar and I was a happy girl, even if I sometimes played through my tears.

During this time, I read somewhere that sandalwood was a symbol for worship. I was so excited that I had a small bottle of the perfume oil, and I remember pouring it over my guitar; with the declaration that it was holy unto the Lord and would only be used to worship Him.

And what was my song? It always came down to this: “I am Yours. I believe You—help my unbelief. I trust You Lord. You are beautiful. You are glorious. Show me Your face. Teach me Your ways. Show me who You are! Draw me after You. Jesus, Your Name is a fragrance poured out…”

This song is still yet the song of my life–the song I have sung even here in Kenya, and I hope by His Spirit, I have helped others to sing as well.

Singing ourselves back home

To think that I almost didn’t bring this old guitar is now unthinkable. On my last day in Richlands, Joann Varner told me that the Lord told her to pay the extra baggage fee for me to bring my guitar with me. So, at the last minute, I added the guitar to my luggage, never dreaming what a blessing it would be here, or that it would not return home with me. Thank you again, Joann.

And thank You Lord, for taking my feeble strumming and infusing Your life into it. Shortly after arriving here, I was reminded of a message that pastor Wendall Ward had preached on people with one talent…an army of one-talent people going out fearlessly into the earth and using the little they had for the glory of God and letting Him bring the increase. God can do more with a one-talent person who is fully His, than a ten-talent person who hoards his riches for himself.

The guitar will stay at EERC, under the watchful care of Omonde, who is already learning chords and strums it every chance he gets. He is already writing songs. My favorite starts with this verse:

“Out of prison of rage and bitterness I call my soul
My precious soul, hear the sweet melodies of angels,
Sailing home.
I’m sailing home, to see my Father up in heaven
Sailing home…”

Omonde is also learning the keyboard

Often, if he hears me strumming and humming, he will come running from across the school to join me in a song. The other day I was strumming, “Behold You have come, over the hills, upon the mountains. To me You have run–my Beloved, You’ve captured my heart. Dance with me, oh Lover of my soul, to the Song of all songs…Romance me oh Lover of my soul, to the Song of all songs.”

I had my eyes closed but heard the door bang open and someone begin to hum with me. I looked up to see Omonde. “What is that song? That is the best song I have ever heard in my life! You must teach it to me!”

If there is one thing I know for sure about this trip, it was for me to teach and impart the heart of God, regarding His desire for intimacy, union, communion, truth in the inward parts…relationship. For 6 months, I have woven bits of the Song of songs throughout much of our teachings, culminating with a time of delving into the first chapter of the book.

Omonde strumming on the Fender

Nothing makes me happier than to hear the teachers and students humming these love songs as they go throughout their day. I hear them singing:

“Give me dove’s eyes; give me undistracted devotion for only You.”

“Take my life, I lay it down. All my gifts and all my crowns. I am Yours. I am in love, with undivided focus…”

“I wanna sit at Your feet, drink from the cup in Your hand. Lean back against You and breathe, and feel Your heartbeat…”

“Like oil upon Your feet, like wine for You to drink, like water from my heart, I pour my love on You.”

“Feasting at His banqueting table, His banner over me is love…”

God has truly blessed this time, making Himself so real to our hearts, penetrating religious traditions and mindsets with His amazing, disarming love and presence. He is a cluster of henna blooms in the garden of En Gedi; a fragrant oasis of life in the midst of dry and weary land. He is altogether lovely.

I know Omonde will take the guitar much further than I ever did. I leave with him the essence of every good thing that Father inworked in me all those years–may it blossom in his life and bear much fruit and may the fragrance spread abroad across Africa.

Let the fragrant worship arise!

I have a few days left with the old guitar, since I am taking it with us to Barwessa this weekend. Please pray for this short mission trip. It will be the first time that many of my Kenyan friends have done anything like this. I hope to get a good update on the baby and the calf and everyone else, as well as play a few farewell melodies of love and life under those desert stars.

Lord, let Your winds blow upon our garden…and may Your heart be satisfied with the fragrance! Carry our worship on the wings of the wind and fill the earth with the knowledge of Your beauty.

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A Little Sparrow

A little sparrow found her way
Into the palace of a king
A place where great eagles gather
A place where lions reign

Frightened, she knew she did not belong
In the midst of ones so grand
For she was small and powerless
Unable to defend

She softly sought a corner
Where she could hide her broken wing
Where her tiny chirp would not be heard
Amongst the mighty roars that sing

Her eyes widened at the majesty
And royal colors on display
And she wept because she did not belong
And her feathers were brown and grey

No one scarcely noticed
The sparrow in their midst
For they were busy with great plans
As they declared the Great King’s wish

Ms. Sparrow settled quietly
In her corner far away
And there she tended her young ones
And there she learned to pray

When one day to her surprise
One came to talk to her
A little lamb, small and meek
He was wounded, just like her

“Ms. Sparrow, why do you wait here
In this corner far away
Don’t you know that you are welcome?”

The lamb began to say

“But little lamb, I cannot fly
And my colors are dull and brown
It’s clear I don’t really belong here
Just take a look around!”

The lamb drew the sparrow to him
And said, “rest here on my back.
I will carry you up to the King Himself
For there you will have no lack”

“I know how you feel, Ms. Sparrow
For I am rejected too
And there are some here in this palace
Who don’t see me, like they don’t see you”

So the little lamb and sparrow
Made their way towards the Great Throne
And she nestled between his shoulders in peace
A friend to call her own!

As they came before the Throne
She saw it was empty of the King
And she wondered where He was
This One she feared and longed to see

The little lamb gently laid
Ms. Sparrow on the altar
He laid her nest and babies too
His touch could not have been softer

He said, “Here is your new home,
Sparrow dear, right before My Throne
For the altars of the Lord of Hosts
Are made especially for My Own”

She wondered why the little lamb
Would speak with such authority
When turning she saw that he was gone
And on the throne; there sat the King!

She gazed into His Lion Eyes
With a trembling but steady gaze
For though she saw the Lion there
His eyes were just the same

It was the little lamb looking back at her
Through the Lion’s Mane
It was his gentle voice inside the roar
That sounded just the same

Undone, the sparrow wept again
For what she had freely gained
For who was she, that she should dwell
In the Presence of the Great King?

“My gentleness has made you great” He said
“I’ll stoop down again and again
To gather the poor and lonely
And make the outcast into my friend”

And now Ms. Sparrow has found a home
In the presence of the King
And sometimes to her surprise when she opens her mouth
She hears an eagle scream!

And often she takes to flight beyond
What her broken wing once knew
Soaring in light and sound and joy
In which she freely moves

But her favorite place will always be
Following her Friend (who is her love)
Whether high or low, wherever He goes

For she knows her real name now: “Beloved”

“Yea, the sparrow hath found an house, and the swallow a nest for herself, where she may lay her young, even thine altars, O LORD of hosts, my King, and my God.” (Psalm 84:3).

“Are not five sparrows sold for two pennies? Yet not one of them is forgotten by God” (Luke 2:6)

This was a little child’s poem that the Lord gave me last year right after I got back from Niger. In my mind’s eye, I saw a sparrow fly into a great room of royal people and I felt all the fears and insecurities in her heart as she looked around the room. I thought of many of the people who visit our churches for the first time and the feelings that rise up in their heart that make them feel shut out. From that small vision, this poem flowed out. I thought of this poem for the first time in a long time today as I was meditating again on one of the key scriptures that has been in my heart constantly in regard to this trip:

“He raises the poor from the dust and lifts the beggar from the ash heap, to set them among princes and make them inherit the throne of glory.” 1 Sam 2:8

Oh kings and princes, be wise! A throne is not given to us to exalt in, but to use for the benefit of lifting others up into the same realm. Why else does a king exist but to be a servant? All over this world, across the ash heaps of the nations, He is raising up the poor and giving them a throne of glory. He is going to surprise everyone. I know that I know that many of these “sparrows” are destined for a higher place than some of the grandest “peacocks” that currently occupy the center of the attention of the church world. But even in that we must tread softly….so softly…..

There they sit, arguing about who is the greatest among them….One is an Apostle. One is a Prophet. One is a King/Priest. One is Sonship. One is the Bride. One is “Third Day.” One is “The Best Denomination.” One has moved beyond “denominations.” One is this company. One is that company. One is of Paul. One is of Apollos. And they are striving amongst themselves and comparing themselves amongst themselves. And they are all carnal.

And He sits there. And He waits…again…and again…for someone to “get it.” Yes, He longs for them to receive their proper identity–to “know who they are.” A true knowing that has no need of arguing over who is the greatest. It is the knowledge that all greatness is servanthood at its essence.

And in she comes.

A sparrow. She has not a title. She is not an apostle. She is not one of the 12. She has never heard of Sonship or being a Melchisidek priest. She is just a woman. A young woman, or an old one perhaps; with one thing to give. She enters like a child. She enters like a servant. She enters in righteous boldness. All she knows is that she loves Him and that there is a need in HIS HEART at this moment. And so she comes in the room for one reason only: to meet His need in the hour of His greatest trial. To minister to HIM.

Let the arguers argue. They can have their names and titles.

Here sits JESUS. He is lonely in the crowd. He is waiting for one thing….the one thing He has waited for from the beginning: LOVE! Immature love is still love….and it will grow into full and mature love. How patiently He waits!

She, the little sparrow, breaks open her innermost being for Him, holding nothing back. Who cares what they say or think? Who cares that they do not understand. Here sits JESUS!

Only let me pour it all out Lord, until the last drop is gone. Let me give it all to YOU, even as you gave it all for me! I know it is nothing compared to what You did, but please allow me to GIVE–in some measure–the same way that you gave! Forever ruin the outer shell of my life, it matters not! Just don’t let me hold anything back! Just let me be with You wherever You are! High or low, it matters not! Dusty streets in hidden alleys…or royal palaces—it matters not. Outside the gate; shut out with their scornful words—it matters not, but only that I am with with You where You are.  Only let me bring joy to YOU! ONLY LET ME LOVE YOU…as YOU HAVE LOVED ME!

Her hair falls out and mingles with her tears, the perfumed oil, and the dust of His feet….The feet that in just a few days will be nailed to the cross.

Do you hear them? The arguers? Do you hear their scorn, their indignation? Their embarrassment?

What do I see in His eye? A tear! What is going through His heart as she weeps at His feet and kisses them, and the fragrance waxes stronger and fills the room? His heart is moved….

He sees something! In her ministry to Him, He sees a reflection of His ministry to the world. He sees his own broken life and the Christ within Him (yes, that Holy Oil, that Anointing) being poured out over His Body, even as she pours it upon His head…Precious oil running down Aaron’s beard and garments, all the way down to His feet. And He smells the fragrance of His own life being poured out and the smell fills the entire room; a prophetic moment understood only by Him…and perhaps her. If she doesn’t understand now, she will someday. But what she does understand—right now—is profound. Because she is the only who sees….Him and HIS DESIRE.

Father, You allowed her to see…into Me! A miracle! Father, You opened her eyes!

And the Father speaks back to Him:

“My beloved Son, here is the day of the gladness of Your heart, here is Your sure and certain promise, forever settled from the foundation. They will see. They will hear. They will understand. They will stop the arguing. They will follow in Your steps and be girded and taken where they did not want to go. And they will do it for love even as you did it for love. The boys with information and inspiration will become men of revelation and manifestation. I will knit them together in One Body and they will dwell in unity, each part honoring the other members more than themselves, each part serving the others, each part existing for Your sake…

And then YOU (the one great HIM composed of many) will walk out as ONE into the world and they will SEE what has truly never been seen…a new man, a many membered man, a new creation born from

Him

And from…

Her.

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