Category Archives: Prophetic Perspectives

These are prophetic insights

Seasons of life

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I am helping someone put together a web site at the moment and the header image is of a tree captured in each of its four seasons. Got me thinking. Also on the news is the report of the extreme storm to hit the north east of the USA. A tough winter here, a blazing over the top summer there, out-of seasonal rains, etc. Extreme weather patterns – something certainly the ‘climate change’ people have been saying would happen.

So this got me thinking, cos I also did a 1-minute video (along with others) for Justin Abraham on 2013, in it I spoke of extremes in weather patterns, external pressures being placed on us etc. So seasons are a challenge at times, but mostly enjoyable, each part can be appreciated. They become unenjoyable when they last too long, become too extreme, prevent us from doing what we were planning / wanting to do.

So what if, in the same as, the weather is not behaving properly, that the seasons of our lives are also not behaving properly? What if ‘this should be over by now’, ‘I really ought to be in a different place’, ‘this has been going on for too long’?

Getting timings right are so challenging. I have been pushing a little jogging these past few days to give space to pray. It has been very interesting indeed as it seems the Lord is giving some fresh perspectives on timings. Transition hold some tricky elements, one of the key ones is to understand the principle that not everything is complete when a shift takes place (seed falls into the ground principle). However, what has to be completed has to be completed; or if we walk away in honesty realising we did not complete the task, we do so taking hold of the grace of God, walking on acknowledging that we have failed but into a good future. Failure cannot be all it is cracked up to be, otherwise there could not be a viable people of faith around today.

But how to know that what should be finished has been finished – even when there is a sense of ‘but I also wanted to see this completed’? Gayle and I went to Mallorca with many perspectives, but also with some key revelation from Michael Schiffmann. When the pieces fell together and we had some extraordinary connections, our sense of timing changed enormously. From feeling our time there might be for another 24-36 months it shifted to 8 months. Not a small acceleration.

Likewise, we have some prophetic words that seem to indicate timings over certain aspects. As I have pressed in this past week, if anything, it would certainly seem that the prophetic words indicate a much longer process than I had anticipated. Never something that is too enjoyable to hear. But a bit like the weather.

I am not writing with a conclusion in view. However, I suspect that I am not alone. Here’s what I hear today:

There are no shortcuts (do I hear an ‘Amen’?, or do I hear a big loud ‘OUCH?’), but there will come accelerators. Yet they are not coming when nor how nor from where, you expect them to. Just as the weather is becoming ‘resistant’ so there are resisters that we must face. Weather patterns will continue that seem to defy what should be happening. Irregularities in crops, indicating that finding the food we like will be more difficult than ever. Yet even when the news talks of new migratory patterns, that will be an indication that a season also of accelerators is on the horizon.

No conclusions.

The Traveller’s Rest- So Long, Farewell, Auf Wiedersehen…Hello.

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From Shadow to Shadow.

So a chapter finally closes after three years for another one to be written. My final blog on Martin’s Perspective’s page. It has been an amazing roller coaster ride of ups and downs, of discovery and rediscovery, of hope and pain, of disconnection, reconnection and fresh connections. But I just felt the time was right to step out of Martin’s shadow. Not that it was a bad place to be, it was the complete opposite, a place of safety and security where I could have lived and dwelt and continued to write forever, but there must be a time for stepping out, for stretching, for adventure into the unknown and unbeaten path. Space needs to be made for other’s with equally valid stories, because it emerges there are many, and with this step it gives space on Martin’s page and the creation of a space on my own page. But I do so with trepidation. It is great writing such honest, questioning blogs when you feel there is someone watching out for you, which Martin may or may not have done all the time, but to walk in risk when there is no one to bounce off is scary. Yet it is all in the growing up. I never felt I was answerable to Martin as he never questioned anything, but to have someone of relationship believing in you is a strength in itself. So with all this in mind and the journey continuing I step out of one shadow and straight into another.

The Traveller’s Rest Buried and Reborn.

For a long time I was going to call the new blog page The Traveller’s Rest for continuation, so people had something that they would relate to, but another theme kept creeping up on me, the one of shadows. The sense that I was coming out of Martin’s shadow and yet writing from a place of shadows. That in the Scriptures there are literal uses of the word shadow that bring signs and healing (2 Kings 20:9-11 and Acts 5:15), the shadow is also a reference to a place of shelter (Psalm 17:8) and it speaks of something that is to come, a type or foreshadow (Colossians 2:17, Hebrews 8:5), plus as Justin Abraham said in a conversation it sounds ‘kinda spooky’. There is also the sense that while living as children of Light we continually in all things live in the place of His shadow. That is why the new blog page will be called ‘Out of the Shadows’. A place where story, life, reality, journey all collide under His safe covering. A place to hear other voices from the shadows other than my own. Over this past three years I have been privileged to build links and relationships with people walking the story in their own way. I want to give opportunity for some of these stories to be heard or at least part of these stories shared. The marginalised, the wanderers, the wild goose chasers, the thinkers, the prayers, the prophetic path walkers, the desert dwellers, the cave men and women, the deconstructors and the constructors, those with a small whisper voice and the voiceless, may this become a safe place to sound off with stuff and journey that may even make my hair turn grey(er). A place where dots can be joined to create a bigger, clearer picture of what God is doing. We all only see in part, but as we share together… Yet from Out of the Shadows the Traveller’s Rest will get a rebirth every Thursday for now so that regular readers will get that continuity of my own story. Thank you for the kind messages that have been posted on here and Facebook, for those taking this journey with me. Do not expect a web page with lots of flash, I am learning as I go, but is that not a picture of the journey itself. We are all learners in this walk of life.

To Humbly Go Where I Have Never Been Before.

The journey never ends and that is why the story continues. For those who will leave the crossing of the paths with my blog page, it has been my privilege to share with you at this juncture. Thank you for taking the time to read these ramblings. I continue to be amazed and humbled that anyone would want to read these thoughts, but so blessed that so many have found something of resonation. Life long, eternal connections have been made through these pages, and for myself that has been a lifeline at times, to realise that I am not alone, although sometimes alone. That it is okay to walk where I am walking and not living the life of a backslider or the antichrist (although can be treated like that at times by some people). That it is fine to live outside the church as construct and find sustenance and life there. That deserts can be turned into places of pools. That I can walk through the valley of the shadow because where I am, He is all the more. So I humbly continue to walk where I have never been before. Sometimes in this virgin soil I spot His footprints, sometimes even my own, but I keep walking. Watching, looking for signs or just the whisper on the wind. Other times there will be silence, stillness, and it is here He is also. Not always comforting but always with the Comforter. Living in the slipstream of the Wild Goose. So this may be farewell from here, but there will always be a welcome over there for those that want to continue to follow the meanderings of an Asda night shift worker, a walker in grace and a lover of adventure and the Adventurer. To be continued… http://pleader05.wordpress.com/

My friend Andrew Butcher wrote this quote on his Facebook page today. A sign? Well God does keep butting in :) .

“If we live beneath the shadow of the Tree, so blood-red, our trials will be transformed into triumphs…” (Herbert Lockyer)

 

The Traveller’s Rest- Penultimate.

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The Journey…

Three years ago I was e-mailed by Martin about guest blogging on here about my journey for a few weeks and then maybe a few other aspects and prophetic things. I do not know whether I ever left the journey part and moved on to the other aspects or prophetic things, the few weeks of journey have turned into a few years and I cannot see that part ever coming to a finishing point. Those other parts are integrated into the story without a moving on from the journey itself. Whatever the journey has been written, recorded, read, replied to, enjoyed, endured, enlightened, puzzled, brought peace and discomfort all in equal measure. I could never have envisaged where it was going or the ebbs and the flows because it is literally walking in the dark (or is that towards the Light so I am dazzled by the brightness?) in places where I have never been before. The experience of the experiment. A roller-coaster ride that seems to have no stopping point. Those tentative steps have been recorded in all their glory, along with the trips and falls. A life lived in the margins and yet out there in the open for all to read. I have never felt so vulnerable and yet so safe. I have never felt so accountable and yet so free. What a ride!!! I am just so grateful to Martin for having the courage to invite me to blog on his site. Although I consider Martin a Spiritual Father to myself personally and to this land called Wales we have sadly had very little time in each others company. A relationship born out of the Sowing Seeds prayer weeks where something just resonated and clicked. A visit that I will always say began my ruin and yet began my restoration. To invite me to blog was therefore an amazing surprise and an incredible privilege. The invitation came at my lowest point and was in a way a lifeline. A hand pulling up out of the water in which I was drowning in. The dark night of the soul. Still floundering around in lack of identity, rejection, hurt, doubt, fear, isolation. Into that confused world came this e-mail, which I think became like ointment poured forth and therapy to my mind and soul. That my journey was okay. My questions were fine. My walking outside the walls was not a walk of the lost but a walk of discovery. Given freedom to say or write anything in a safe place and yet knowing that mutual love and care would look out for me. I cannot say that I made it through to anywhere but I have found a love and acceptance of where I am. I can live in the place of no answers. I can loiter in the margins. I can enjoy the journey and not have to worry about destinations. Without this outlet I do not know how the journey would have unfolded but I thank God for that invitation three years ago. Martin I honour and love you. It is a joy to walk with you.

Connected in disconnection.

Through this blog I have discovered many others on a journey. Not all making the same decisions, not all leaving the church per se, but on a journey to see God redeem something. Many others feeling isolation and yet finding some form of connection through the story. The relief to some that someone else is out there and saying it is okay. God’s in the wild walk outside the walls. I thank God for connections made. Some so far remain in words on here or as Facebook friends. Others I have had the privilege of meeting as I have journeyed to Sweden, Cramlington, Latvia and Romford. Relationships forged through the dismantling of lives and churches. Friends of a deep, deep level. In all my years of being a Christian I have never had such relationships of reality. People that you can truly be real and honest with without trying to be a church superstar. I thank God that I have these people in my life and I am believing for so many more. What I lack here in my own locality, as many believers think I have lost the plot, I have gained in so many more  ways. I may be on my own but I very rarely feel alone anymore. Dreams have been lived, especially my dream to one day stand in Scandinavia, and I thank Maria and Torbjorn who have made that possible, and the clan in Cramlington who were the first to invite this journey man to share his story, which led to the rekindling of a dream as I looked over the north sea. People who accuse me of not being part of the Body or not being in fellowship or not being connected know nothing of the story. There is so much connection in this place of disconnection, yet connected not through what we do but through the Spirit of adventure, journey, pain, rejection, reality, the blank canvas. The community of the marginalised is so much larger than we all realise. I love my family.

Out of the Shadow.

So why all these meandering thoughts, as one of my friends recently called them (bless you Mark). I have felt for a while that I needed to step out of Martin’s shadow on his blog page. Those few weeks have lasted three years, and I could keep on recorded my journey here, but it is all about making space and stepping out into the big wide world without the apron strings. I want to make space for others to record their journey on Martin’s page so they too can experience the privilege and space that I did. I know he would never say it or even think it but I do not want to out stay my welcome, and it is all part of growing up into what God has for me. I am not the greatest computer literate man but from the first week in February the journey will continue on my own attempt at a blog page. It may not have too many pretty pictures and intricate designs but it will be the story continued, ever ebbing and ever flowing. Would love for you to continue to join me if you so desire. I will put the details and link in next weeks final blog on this page. I too want to give space to others to share something of their journey. I want it to be a place of community as well as a place of thought, journey, ideas from my own journey. I do not have too many plans because I want it to take a shape all of its own. I know this move will reduce my readership in some ways, but for me the journey was never about numbers but about God and people, especially those who find connection in some way. I am at the same time nervous and excited. The blank canvas is there to be written on with invisible ink, never held onto too tightly. A shape-shifting world where God is the source of all that is both constant and flowing. To those of you who will leave the journey here thank you for reading and bless you in your own journey. To those who will take a peak the journey continues and will be blogged as each tentative footstep is taken. So to the final chapter here next week and then the ongoing journey.

 

The Traveller’s Rest- Is Organic Church Ever Possible?

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Simples.

Always enjoy what people like Frank Viola, Neal Cole and George Barna have to say about church and how far we have strayed from a Biblical concept of what Ekklesia was truly meant to be. The books ‘Pagan Christianity’ and ‘Organic Church’ have I am sure been read by many readers of these blogs and plenty of areas of agreement have been found, so much so that maybe some have deemed to begin ‘Organic’, ‘Missional’ or ‘Simple’ churches. Yet this is where my problem with the whole area starts. To plant something organically sounds great in theory but even the act of planting an organic church seems to already make the church non-organic in my opinion, and it is an opinion. Just like organic farming, can there truly be such a concept? To me the two words are like an oxymoron when placed together, you are either organic or you are a church, is it really possible to be both? In many ways once it becomes a way of doing church better than everybody else and something that needs to be organised it becomes as structural in the loosest sense as any other church. As I often say once a book gets written about it and it can be recognised and has characteristic we can note then it becomes something to label and categorise. We read the books by these writers and go to the conferences to learn how to do it and then it stops being what it intended to be. As my friend Mark Pixley recently commented ‘organic is the new traditional’. I am sure many of these people probably stumbled upon the process of relationships and worshipping as community with little or no organisation, and then they become the name for the movement. They give the movement a name. Then comes a sense of definition which equates whether you are or whether you are not. People read the definition and then give it a go to see if it succeeds or fails. If it looks like what the books are saying it has worked, if it doesn’t it has failed and we’ll look for something else, the next concept. Surely once you have made Google you are no longer truly organic!

Grown Up Out of the Soil.

This is a phrase that Frank Viola recently said that really resonates with me. A shame he had to complete the sentence by writing ‘of authentic church life’. What is that? Something else that needs a definition and I’m sure in Frank’s mind can be recognised as authentic or not. That is where it all falls down. I want to see the authentic and it must be grown up out of the soil, but the landscape where I live is totally different to anywhere else. The authentic from the soil is different here to anywhere else. There must be a burial of seed. For the authentic apostolic and prophetic to be, they must be foundational, under the earth, in the earth, earthed. Unseen and unlabelled. Surrounded by grit. Authenticity then grows from the soil. I have often said that what needs to be will flow from the contours of the land we are sown into. The river flows with the land unless it becomes a canal and gets directed. I remember the times of 24/7 prayer that took place in Cardiff about 15 years ago, those times were authentic and organic. Space was given with a room being available but no one led anything, you just turned up at the room at some point through the day and stood together, worshipped together, declared together. No time of prayer starting or ending but just prayer. I don’t know how it worked but it did. We never thought about the lack of facilitators or having people lead different sessions, there was just a room, space. It worked. It was grown up out of the soil. I have since discovered that there is a fine line between facilitating something, and organising and directing something. I have often thought about starting something new but then have to stop myself because in my head I have ideas about how I would like it to go. How easily the organic becomes an organisation.

Meet Without Meetings?

Is it possible to meet without meetings? Can we just gather to gather? Do we always have to make it more than a family get together? My wife’s family are getting bigger by the year, and I do not just mean we have a weight problem! Yet every year for Christmas Eve and Boxing Day we always get together for food and the crack. A space is facilitated, food is served, the rest just happens without organisation. People talk to those sitting by them about life and whatever, or just have humorous banter going on. The elders of the family then seem to tell a few stories that have everyone rocking with laughter. People dip in and out of the conversation to go for food or a drink or go outside for a cigarette. The kids do whatever they want to do and do not seem to be in the way. Some conversations take place in the kitchen, others in the hallway. Everyone comes away buzzing and full of food and conversation. Organic family life has taken place. I am not saying this is how it should be because  I then have created an organisation and will write a book about family life and do it this way and give it a title, I’m just saying organic coming together can be possible. But then organic being on your own must be just as authentic and acceptable too. I am in a place of solitude now, yet through relationship I remain part of my family, I do not have to be with them to be a part of them. I think of Christian attempts to have organic family gatherings, space is given, food is available, conversation goes on, but then we introduce what can often be the killer of organic, the dreaded time of. Right shall we now have a time of worship? Shall we now have a time of prayer? Let us now hand over to our speaker for this evening. I am fighting all this because I know and long for authentic prayer, worship, sharing, my question to myself and what I am trying to work through is, can we have it without a time of? Do we have to break into the flow of natural conversation for a time of? Cannot people just spontaneously begin praying for one another’s needs, or musicians just spontaneously begin singing or playing without handing out the words and song sheets? And then people have the freedom to join in or not or even carry on eating or talking? Then spontaneous story telling emerges maybe between a few people, but then good stories get relayed around the group? People who have journeyed well or otherwise can then add to the flow without having a testimony time. People can go when they need to go, not at the end when the closing prayer or benediction is spoken. Conversation spills out to the streets and cars. Life flows on with the contours of the land. Can this happen? I do not know, all I do know is that Organic Church as a concept is dead before it is alive, Missional Church still seems to gather before it goes and Simple Church is already complicated enough to warrant having conferences and how to sessions by so called experts. I just want to be. I want to organically grow up out of the soil of my land and realise that I am the ekklesia whatever that growing up characterises when the shoots come above the ground.

 

The Traveller’s Rest- Fallen.

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Home.

At 2:30am U.K. time the landscape in Wales changed forever. At that time we lost in this physical earth someone who had impacted so many lives, in-fact probably everybody whose path she had crossed. Sarah Trinder sadly lost her battle with cancer. The tributes that have poured in since evidence the fact of what an impact she made through her life. I was privileged to know Sarah not from the beginning of her story but before and outside position and titles, something that Sarah carried lightly anyway. I first met her as she served another great humble woman Marilyn Harry in her tent crusades and evangelism schools. How I ended up helping the church at Pontllanfraith I do not know, but in an interim period between Pastors I went over their weekly to share lives, teach and stand with them as they looked to the way forward. I almost became their ‘Pastor’ myself but remained in Tonyrefail at that stage, it was sometime around this point that Sarah took on the role. She was unlike any ‘Pastor’ or person that I had ever known, nor will probably be known again. She carried authority, not because of position or title, but because she was a carrier of God’s presence. Bold enough to be for Him anything He wanted, an aquaduct for the presence and the supernatural. Infact she made walking in the supernatural the most natural and down to earth walk ever with stories of encounter and being overcome by the Holy Spirit while out shopping, and she loved both. What I loved about Sarah was that she was not just walking in such openness with God and seemed full of boldness, but she was real, vulnerable, earthed. Her laughter and joy about life was so infectious. We spent hours together with stories that would make us laugh until our sides were aching. These stories have made me smile through the gulf of her absence this week. I have been angry at the enemy, I have thrown questions at God, yet even in the unanswered questions there is a peace, a sense that the full story is yet to be told. Grief tinged with light of hope.

Magnet.

Sarah was always surrounded by people, she loved people., they loved her in return. The office door never closed but like a rotating entrance way of people coming and going. She never wanted people to follow her but she wanted them to be follow and be impacted by the Jesus that impacted her. She totally changed the landscape and feel of a church just by being there. Those gold curtains certainly helped! Talking of gold, we always laugh at one first hand story. My wife Allison had the privilege of accompanying Sarah on a trip to India, one of Sarah’s first trips abroad. They went as a team of women into the Nation, which was a sign and a wonder in itself, but they were introduced to Sarah. They loved her. In the sari shop they were all fitted with their own sari’s to wear at the gatherings, Sarah had to have a gold one. She loved gold. This was to the bemusement of everyone in India because the wearing of gold was a message that you were looking for a husband! Watch out men! I’m sure Graham would have had something to say about that. Yet that was Sarah. Someone who was an amazing woman of God, an incredibly loved ‘Pastor’, a lady who oozed the apostolic and the prophetic, but not in an empirical way but in a way that just wanted to release and free others. I loved to listen to her speak because I knew it came from a life that touched the hem of both heaven and earth and so muddled the two that they became interchangeable. So full of integrity, real, raw, passionate, and yet broken, but never allowing that brokenness to be the end of the story but the beginning. We shared pulpits, hosted gatherings and conferences together, pressed in for the Nation together, but more than that pressed in for the presence. That is why today this Nation does not quite feel the same.

Much Fruit.

A fallen seed has the potential to bring forth much fruit. That will be the story here I know. Yesterday I met with another friend, Justin Abraham. We talked much about the paths of the past and where they have all gone. How there was a time when there seemed to be so much buzz in the Nation of Wales with people from north, south and mid standing shoulder to shoulder, travelling to pray with each other and hope together for a new day. Seeing the release from heaven of a prophetic prayer movement that captured many from all backgrounds and none. That it didn’t matter who you were as long as you had a vision and a heart for a fresh breath of God upon the Nation. Wildfire words and visions that a baby had been born. Then came the dispersion, everyone seemed to be buried in the land in their own localities and regions. Had the opportune moment been missed or was this dispersion part of the move that needed to happen? Was God taking this away from the central place of gatherings and conferences? Was this more liquid than any of us realised, a move that could never be apportioned to any man? Will even Sarah’s passing be a marker point of the end of a season and the beginning of another, or even the realisation that we’ve been walking the season for a while yet and maybe not fully realised it, that God was in this desert of Bethel all along? The coming together to celebrate Sarah’s life will be the first time for years that many paths will cross. Will this mean something for our land? In the sorrow of the week I have just had the feeling that God has not finished with our Nation just yet. Wales is still on His agenda. The story for Cymru is not over yet, God’s imprint is still here. His DNA is still in the land. There is hope in the Nation because of the buried seed. I am troubled and yet at total peace. It will never look the same as it did in the past but that fire still burns. So many times I have tried to leave the land but those roots keep me connected. So much pondering done this week. The legacy Sarah left behind will continue I believe in the many. I thank God that I knew her not as my pastor or apostle but as a friend. I thank God for being able to say we walked together. A chapter has finally closed, but for us all the story continues…

The Traveller’s Rest- Tonight’s Gonna Be A Good Night.

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What A Feeling.

On Sunday night I was out at the Asda night colleague’s work’s do. About 15 of us found our way to Pontypridd and dived into the night life of the place. We started with a meal and then moved onto a place called ‘The Skinny Dog’ and finished up at a late night disco/karaoke place. We had an amazing time, a real laugh, I have not raided the dance floor so much since last years do. To think that until a few years ago I would have avoided such nights like the plague. Who wants to be out on the town with a group drinking themselves silly, especially on a Sunday night when I could be safe and snug in church at a Gospel service. I looked down my nose at such people and probably tutted under my breath when they told of their weekend exploits, the bits they could remember anyway. As a believer I should not be found in such dens of iniquity where I may become tainted and fall from grace. All the time convincing ourselves that we were building bridges into our community and loving the people and doing Gospel services just for them. When you go out on a night like this you realise why no one comes. Our nights, supposed celebration meetings, are so boring with a capital B. Who do we think we are kidding when we offer something radical for the unchurched? Our seeker services are not offering the unsaved what they want but offering them what a Christian thinks they want which is completely different. Slick music, short talks, lights, drama etc. This is not what seekers want at all, they love a mess, they love a rollicking good night out, they love a laugh, they love being around people that let themselves go, they want to go out and be themselves and not be bound to behaving like silent angels. They want those inhibitions to go and just have a good night out. To us believers this can be very different to what we are used to. It can be the opposite of inviting them into an alien environment, we are now the aliens, that is until we truly become one of them. By saying that I do not mean we have to behave like them but we have to be part of our community. Part of the family. Not afraid to venture in. We are IN the world… Most believers are out of this world and therefore can never be related to.

You Look Good on the Dancefloor.

I have come to a place where I love the atmosphere created by a night out like this. Even how a drink or two lowers the guards of people. Those quiet on the edge people all of a sudden loosen up and everyone sits shoulder to shoulder instead of some above another. I look around and thank God for this community of night owls that God has allowed me the privilege of being a part of. One with humanity. While eating together, drinking together, dancing together, laughing together, more and more barriers come crashing down. There were times on the dance-floor when certain songs were played and I was singing along it was worship raising up to heaven. I raised my arms in praise and shut my eyes in adoration. A community where all are embraced without prejudice. Yes there are times in work when people bicker and argue and some leave, but this community gets on with it’s task. And the banter is so much fun. This is church, these are the called out one’s. We are gathering together. I do not see each of them as an evangelistic target to pluck from the jaws of hell, but I love them, respect them, talk sense and nonsense with them, and answer any questions they may have. Jesus was not mentioned on Sunday night but He was there as Immanuel, the God with us. The Word made flesh and dwelling amongst us. He was made flesh and dwelt, we keep changing Him back to spirit and withdrawing to so called Holy places. To me there was nothing more Holy than our works do. Community, laughter, people, friends. A great night out.

In but not of…

We need to learn that we are in this world and not think we are protecting ‘weaker’ brothers by withdrawing them. We are not of this world, we know that, but it is not because we create a counter culture somewhere else, a different reality, we are in the world. We rub shoulders with those in the world. We are different because we have a treasure in our jar of clay. We have either found the treasure by looking or stumbled across the treasure, but we are still cracked pots encasing something so amazing, so precious, so real. We are still flesh beings, there is no shame in flesh. We do not have to hide. It will only be by discovering the treasure that lives will be transformed, but that will only come as they glimpse it in the mud of the field not in the sparkling clean hospital ward of making perfection, or what we think is creating perfection. They do spy it as the light glints from the crevice of our lives. Just a couple of weeks ago an ex-colleague and his wife became Christians, now the talk of the shop floor. Only today a colleague asked me to take a funeral for them. I love this community. That glint of light is shafting through the crack and being seen by those there. It is not about collecting scalps but about living and loving humanity. About turning water into wine at weddings just for the fun of it, yet revealing glory. And as I have said before, it is all in the glory, including the dirt of our lives.

The Traveller’s Rest- Finding Yourself In The Mess.

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Who Do They Say That I Am?

When Jesus asked this question I wonder if He was under the pressure of identity crisis. That place where people have labels and opinions as to who or what you are, and want you to perfectly fit in that mould of their interpretation as to what that means. Everyone has an identity box for you to try and fit into. An interpretation as to what a position or title means. That happened in my life as a local church ‘Pastor’ and it continues with the term ‘Prophet’ today. Just being labelled immediately brings into play people’s interpretations of these positions and giftings and what they expect from those positions and giftings. As a ‘Pastor’ I was expected to visit people when they stopped coming to church and when they were sick. I was expected to drop everything when the phone rang. I was expected to be in the office studying and praying, but if I was ever found to be there I was expected to be out on the streets connecting with the people. The label and the position carried much with it. I did not realise how much of my identity was wrapped up in what I was doing. This was supposed to be me, but it was a conglomeration of people’s opinions of who I should be, the Bible’s verses and interpretations of those verses as to how I should be and the background and training I had to be that. Add to this what I thought I was and how that created tensions then what was created was nothing short of a mess. No wonder some people in so called ‘ministry’ positions end up having break downs and leave disillusioned and hurt. Some in the congregation want you to be this, others want you to be that, fellow ‘Pastor’s’ say you should be something else. No wonder I felt like I was cracking up.

What mould am I breaking?

Then the journey of moving out of church life into the mezzanine floor, the place in-between. The place of crashing head first into identity crisis. My whole adult life had been revolving around gatherings, preaching, more gatherings, to have this taken away felt like having the whole of myself stripped away. It was a painful time, the darkest time of my life. Yet even here I realised there were moulds to be worn. Any label creates a mindset and expectations that need to be broken. While working as a ‘Pastor’ there were those who recognised the gifting of ‘Prophet’ inside me. This was a label I was more comfortable with but it is still a label. It still raises connotations and expectations. That expectation that whenever you come on the scene you have a ‘Word of the Lord’. Here in the Valleys I attended some gatherings of a ministry and as soon as I was spotted I was asked to come to the front and pray and give a Word. This happened when I went some places to preach and when I met up with people. Don’t forget if God gives you something please feel free to give it. Have you got a Word, anything to give. Even in the new landscape there is this expectation to be a slot machine for Word’s of the Lord, the difference being many people do not put any money in before they pull the handle. When you go and visit or are asked to pray for someone they do not just want a prayer, they want a Word of the Lord. Another mould. My being sits as uncomfortably here as it did in the ‘Pastor’ mould. I have found a ‘Prophet’ mould to be just as smothering. More expectations as to what my identity should be.  That is why I ask the question, what mould am I breaking? Get out of one another seems to be created. Why are we so obsessed with labels?

I Want To Be Me.

Slowly I am finding myself in the rubble. I am finding a few people who have little or no expectations. It is not that I will never give prophecy or share from Scriptures or visit someone, but I want it to flow out of me abiding in Him and my dwelling under the shadow of the Almighty. I am learning more and more not to appease people and give them what they want, almost disappoint them and then from that place you see if relationship is real or built on who they think you are. Getting back to Jesus, when He broke the mould of expectations many except His true friends were no longer with Him. It is a lonelier place but at least the relationships are reality. I do not want friends just because I prophecy and preach and do stuff, I want relationships that enjoy being with me, the one finding himself in the mess. I was thinking this week I resigned from ‘Pastoral’ life and that helped because when you no longer have position the label soon gets blown away. Maybe I need to do the same with the label of ‘Prophet’, maybe I need to resign the position. This in itself could be a prophetic act. I cannot walk away from my DNA, nor can I renounce my inner gifting and call, but all those expectations that go with titles and positions they need to be buried forever. I am finding I am not what people think I am or should be. I am not even what I thought I was. I am me. Our doing should only ever be a joyful expression of our being and our identity. We should never be creating an identity through what we do. So world and church I resign from the title and recognition of being a ‘Prophet’ and all the expectations that come with that. I just want to be a life sown in the land. I am not after recognition but relationship, firstly and most importantly with Father, and then with people who want to get to know Paul Leader along with his warts and all. I am finding myself in the mess and some of what I find is a mess, but I’m learning to love the person of flesh underneath the doing. I accept and love who I am, and that helps to love and accept others in a world of no veneer and pretence and titles. The world beyond the matrix is a world of accepting each other just as we are. Now that sounds a bit like a world created by Father.

 

The Traveller’s Rest- Never Mind the Bishops, Here’s the Sex Wars.

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Biblical Battle? You Must be Joking.

This week the General Synod voted against the ordination of Women Bishops. I say voted against, but it was an overwhelming majority voted for, but the vote fell short by six votes of the required majority. The battle in the Church of England rages on. Who would want to be sitting in the AB of C’s chair this week (Archbishop of Canterbury if you wondered)? What I find strange is that people fight the ground of something they feel is unbiblical, i.e. having women in leadership positions, using methods that are clearly unbiblical, in structures that are clearly unbiblical, for positions that to my eyes seem unbiblical. The word bishop appears in the King James Version of the Bible, but not in later translations, referring to an overseer or even elder. Definitely not the sense of hierarchy and authority that the C of E give it, more a carer or watcher (Intercessor for people?). Definitely not with those clothes and mitres and Old Testament garb. There is also the unbiblical action of ordination. What is that all about? Yes in the Old Covenant people were anointed into recognised positions, but this is a new covenant. We all have an anointing we are told in 1 John 2:20. We now walk with one King, Jesus, and do not need other kings like the other nations. We can all walk with prophetic insight, He speaks to us today personally, and we are all priests of the Lord. The sense that only a select few are priests is so unbiblical but they would rather have other fights about whether women can serve or function. To all women out there, you are anointed, you have permission to function through the King Himself, you do not need a man dressed in posh garb or a church denomination to tell you what you can and cannot do.

Function not Position.

The more I study and get a sense of what was being communicated through the New Testament, God was not trying to build Tower of Babel churches that reached all the way to the sky. The bigger the anointing and gifting the higher you reached up. Jesus came to reverse the curse of Babel and the temple/tabernacle system that sought to exclude people. God always wanted to walk in the garden with everyone. It was mankind that chose to have a select few and kings and prophets and priestly families. Jesus kicks the chair of hierarchy away and sets us in a place of equality. Not as clones but as individuals with unique functions. When He said He gave some to be apostles, prophets, evangelists, pastors and teachers He was not setting up a leadership structure of higher callings, He was recognising functions that mankind could and should walk in. Functions that then needed to be released through others equipped to do the task. For goodness sake we even took this list as an hierarchical list with apostles first, so they must be more important, prophets next etc. Elders became in charge of local affairs instead of people who could give advice because they had journeyed the walk and may have life lessons to share. Overseers became shepherds that herded the sheep around and anything the sheep said was just put down to bleating. It was about looking out for one another, caring, protecting, feeding with life. Why do we make everything about being in charge or being a leader over someone? Because that seems to be inherently human. To be apostolic you can go without someone telling you to or looking for man’s affirmation because Jesus already told you to go. To be prophetic you juts need to awaken that inner ear and realise God is peaking to you. To be evangelistic be that carrier of the Good News that we all carry. To be pastoral just care for those around you in the sphere’s of life; family, work, leisure, community. To be a teacher just share what you are learning on life’s journey. Flow and function. You have an anointing. Jesus never came to walk in a title and be recognised for that title, He came to share life and function as the Son of God.

What About Women?

Take the titles and positions away and you are left with no problem. Women can be who they are in Christ. They can function in any gift that God has put in their DNA. It is not then about who is over who and who is under who, but that we serve one another. That we need each other to function as the full expression of the Body of Christ. All over the world women need to be unchained. What a resource that we already have. I have for many years sensed that a huge wave of passionate women would be unleashed on the earth. Not out for position but just wanting to serve the King. Not to be in places instead of man, but to stand shoulder to shoulder not breaking rank. Women with passion and fire like Deborah and Jael, women with powerful motherly qualities like Jochabed and Mary, women with hunger like Mary Magdalene. All this unlocked potential through out the world. A women’s movement that would move through the Middle East and Asia. Muslim women finding freedom to expression through Christ. Watch India and China be swamped with passionate Christ infused females. Women of God you don’t need me to give you permission but come on arise, shine for your light has come. Why want to walk in man’s ordination when you can already walk in Him daily? I close with these few words I wrote on my Facebook status the day after the result;

No woman needs any churches permission to walk in her calling as a Priest of the Lord or to venture to do anything for Him. Permission was given through Christ long before the church was born.

The Traveller’s Rest- The (Super) Natural Christian Life.

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Autumnal Holiday.

For the first time in ages I have taken a week off work just to be at home with Allison and the family. Normally when I book a week off it is to travel somewhere to visit friends and make connections or for a booked holiday, very rarely for no particular reason. I was initially going to use this time to travel to Sweden but just felt I wanted to be with the family, get a bit of gardening done (my green fingers do not surface very often) and generally chill. The first great thing about it was I did not tell Allison until the week had begun because I did not want the time full of plans, especially decorating, which is of the devil I am sure. After my Friday night shift and my Saturday morning sleep I got up and we went as nearly a full quota of family to Weston-Super-Mare for their annual fireworks from the beach and pier. Joel was home from University, Daniel and Matthew came on board, the only one missing was John who decided to go and watch Cardiff City play football. We had a great evening with food, walking the sea front and watching the fireworks. It was special to just be out as a family. Ending the evening with a good old McFlurry on the way home was fab. It was while on the way home I broke the news that I had a week off work. One of the things I am learning to appreciate more and more is opportunities to be with the family rather than running around for church, gatherings, meetings, the next name in town. I love the super, natural Christian life of being husband, father, me, rather than being Pastor.

The Lord’s Day, every one of them.

Sunday morning I had the chance to lay in as Joel took Matthew off to football. Enjoyed a nice slow start to the day and breakfast in bed. We then got up and tidied the place up a bit and then when Joel and Matthew returned we all went to watch my other son Daniel play football. Having four boys football is a big part of our lives. It was great standing on the sidelines with my wife Allison and my two boys Joel and Matthew cheering my son on as he scored in a thumping 16-0 win. We came home, John returned from playing for his team and then we ate together, all six of us, around the table. I enjoy nothing more than sharing food with my family, along with good family banter, lots of laughter, terrible jokes, sharing life stories and generally being together. We may not mention Jesus in every breath or say grace before the meal. We may not break bread or quote Scripture, but as I look around I realise this is the Lord’s table we are sharing. This is holy communion as a family with Him. The Bread of Life is ever present in and through our lives shared together. This was the Lord’s day, and so was yesterday, and so will tomorrow be. Sharing the normal with each other and with Him.

The Daily Bread.

Monday we shopped together and enjoyed a Starbuck’s coffee and an Asda lunch. Talking about life, work, God, church, family, each other. Tuesday I cleaned around the house a bit and then Wednesday headed for the garden to get those weeds, prune those shrubs and plants and power wash the floor. Through all the tasks there was a sense of blessing, even though at times I sigh and moan and groan about doing it. Aware of His thoughts going through my mind as I dusted or as I power washed. Thinking of His words as I pruned and cut back. Thinking of where He was found at times as I walked in our tiny garden. Realising that prayer was a life style and a walk as we chatted and contemplated and meditated together through all the natural stuff. He is Lord of the mundane. One thing I realise in life is that my standards are never Allison’s standards. I can often tidy or fix one thing and make three things worse at the same time. This was true of the garden as what I had power washed off of the floor now clung to the surroundings. We had to spend Thursday morning cleaning this up. A bit of bickering got some action going, but hey that’s life. Couple’s that tell me they have never had an argument or a cross word have never lived or done anything adventurous together, or are actually not quite being honest. Rows will often make us more productive. Garden is now looking great, but needed Allison’s hand as well. That is what team is all about. Here in the garden even as I clean the windows I recognise my Daily Bread.

Plans of Mice and Men.

That brings up the present. There are still a few days of these autumnal holiday days to go. Tomorrow we are planning to have a ride to Cardiff, Saturday I plan to watch a gig in Pontypridd and then Sunday back to football with the boys and then the Grand Prix in the evening. Monday then we finish the break with a cinema visit to watch the final part of Twilight. Not my cup of tea but Allison loves it, and it will be great to spend that time with her. That she fancies vampires has got nothing to do with it. Does all this stuff give me a spiritual buzz? It does to make me realise that God loves me and my family so much that He walks through everything with us. It is not all about the hype and the music and the crowds and the sermons, it is about daily living with our Daily Bread. There really is a super, natural Christian life that we can all live. It does not take a calling because we all can live daily recognising His love and presence in all the natural stuff. Here there are no superstars and no raised platforms, no hierarchy and no egos. Just ordinary people living ordinary lives with an amazing God dwelling in and through it all. Now must get back to my break and enjoy this life to the full again today.

The Traveller’s Rest- Standing in the Gap.

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Mind The Gap.

Anyone who has ever been on a train or underground journey in the U.K. will have heard that motivated voice on arriving at a station platform to ‘mind the gap when you are alighting.’ After all we don’t want anybody disappearing down the side between the platform and the train. Sometimes my imagination runs a bit wild and I start imagining a world that lives in the gap that the station masters are trying to get us to avoid. A world of wonder, adventure and encounters of a mysterious kind. A world where angels and men walk together. A port-hole to another parallel universe. Who knows what would be experienced if that gap was stepped into, along with the broken leg and twisted ankle!!! Yet there is a gap we are being called to step into. And again I think many would warn us not to step here, the church masters would almost warn us about this place, yet who amongst us will have the courage to step into an unmade part of the wall?

The Gap Year(s).

More and more students are choosing to have a gap year during their life. A time for travel and adventure before the more serious and arduous task of study and career and family begins. Some go back-packing, others just take a break, but they will all gain a sense of living life to the full through this experience. A place between what was (education) and what is to come (student/adult life). The gap years are a place many Christians are being called to. That place between what was and what is to come. A place that has no organised structure and no concrete plans. A place that does not look as if it is contributing very much to society and yet the place where life’s experiences build so much into the psyche of the personality and character. A place to stand and dwell in Him rather than do. A place for Kingdom back-packers willing to adventure in the jungles, not to build empires but to share life experiences. A people that recognise that the character of Jesus is not just about the who was and the who is, but also is the one to come. The gap is embraced taking all that has passed, all that is now and all that is to come. He is looking for those who would stand in the gap on behalf of the land. Those that would embrace the gap. Living intercession between then and what is to come in the long now. Maybe intercession is not about professional prayers but about standing, and standing in gaps. Breaching the place between two worlds, not the heaven out there and the earth here, because surely they are intertwined, but between the worlds of what was, what is and what is to come.

Standing in the Long Now.

According to Paul in Ephesians 6:13 there is one thing we do after we have done everything. Stand. Surely as a church we have done and tried everything. I know during my time as a Pastor I did everything, I tried everything, I changed everything, it altered very little. Now as I stand in the gap all I can do is stand, I have nothing left to do. Effort is from the place where I have come from, rest is the order of the day in the now, who knows what is to come, but the stand has become home. The gap is embraced. The place in-between is a dwelling with Him. It is a world of wonder and awe. It is a place of connectivity, adventure, unanswered questions. It is the long now that seamlessly leads us to what is to come. Yet we need to embrace the gap as a forever friend and not be frustrated about what is around the corner and yet never around the next bend. There are not many willing to live in the place of tensions but the city needs those who are willing. It is a place exposed to both sides because those that live in what was think we have stepped outside, and those who make what is to come happen with plans and adventures want us to enter the new wine made by them, but we know our call for now is just to be. To dwell. To stand in the gap. To embrace the place of nothing and yet everything. The place of the long now.

The Traveller’s Rest- “The devil’s in the Detail.”

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On a dark, dark Night…

Last night was the night many Christians dread, Halloween. The night when children knock on the door in ghostly costumes asking for sweets. Of course we just turn the lights out and don’t answer the door because it is all satanic mumbo jumbo. We keep our children locked in their bedrooms playing war games on their X-boxes because they are not allowed to join in the ‘so called’ fun. Don’t these kids and their parents realise that this is just the beginning of the journey of serving Satan himself? Here in the Leader land of the Rhondda Valleys it decided to pour down with rain. This would normally create a cheer and some relief because at least this would put the children off calling at the door. In our house this year though there was a disappointed little man. Our youngest lad, aged 10, was going to dress up as Dracula and do some trick or treating with his friends. Instead we put on a little tea and had ducking apples inside. He never ended up with a bag full of sweets but we did have some fun. What about the evil connotations? What about the pagan connections to Samhain? Why celebrate something that celebrates the dark side? I understand all these questions, but I’m seeing more and more that there are another set of questions that need to be asked, and I’m also seeing how we take on the wrong fights so often. What are we communicating to our kids when we stop them having fun and ask them to sit in the dark at home while their friends have loads of fun? Is it more Christian to sit in the dark and not be hospitable and generous and welcoming to these kids from our community? Are we really that afraid of the dark when we have such a light? Don’t we see opportunities in meeting neighbours, chatting, having a laugh on a night when the barriers come down? Is it any less pagan than Easter, Christmas, Sunday worship (that is another story)? In this day when the biggest blockbuster movies show an obsession with vampires, wizards, werewolves, dragons, witches, (I bet a few Twilight fans are reading this) etc. we as Christians show a distinct lack in imagination and take some things too seriously. Great Christian minds like Tolkein and C.S. Lewis were not afraid to include such creatures in their stories. Yes there is a dark side, but as Alice Cooper says ‘the devil is not walking around with a pitchfork and red horns, he is more in the attitudes of those who judge and dismiss others.’ While stopping our children dressing up as a wizard across the world ‘so called leaders’ are creating spiritually controlled atmospheres. And this is a quote I have just found in a Rick Joyner book, ‘Witchcraft is counterfeit spiritual authority; it is using an unholy spirit to dominate, manipulate or control others.’ Maybe we should be more fearful of our pulpits than of our streets on halloween.

Return to Innocence and Scary Fairy Stories.

As children I am sure we were all brought up with Fairy stories. Trolls, witches, bears, wolves, tales by Brother’s Grimm. I know I was and I know my children were. Going back to my younger days one of the first memories I have is going onto the American air-force base in Lakenheath, Suffolk to go trick or treating. This was the real deal. The strange thing was as a group of friends we were taken by our youth leader who was the son of the Pastor of the church at the time, an Assemblies of God Pentecostal church. It is a lasting memory because it was so much fun and so rewarding, I had never seen so many sweets and treats after a night out. There was a real party atmosphere as the streets were filled with little monsters having fun. There was no association with demonic stuff or pagan ritual, just innocent kids having the time of their lives. Then as we got a bit older we would meet on a Friday night in our youth leaders home to have a fright night where we would watch some of the classic horror movies. Some of you may now be saying that explains why I am as I am, that I channeled a way for the demonic to get into my life. I just think somewhere between there and here it all got a bit serious. Where was the innocence stolen? Who stole it? Burn your Black Sabbath albums, stop your kids watching Harry Potter, don’t wear those fangs for fancy dress. I am sad that my kids never experienced a halloween like I did because I stopped them becoming connected with evil by shutting them away.

Spiritual Warfare.

I believe in spiritual warfare. Yet more and more I think it has less and less to do with shouting at the devil with the horns. For the weapons of our warfare are not of the flesh but mighty in God for the pulling down of strongholds, casting down arguments and every high thing that exalts itself against the knowledge of God, bringing every thought into captivity to the obedience of Christ. It has more to do with our thinking and attitudes and pride, the stuff inside us all. My battle for my community is tackling the high places within myself and within the Body of Christ. As I change through the working of the Holy Spirit it affects my surroundings and relationships, transformation has begun as knock on effects of my personal transformation occur. Take up the whole armour of God…truth…righteousness…peace…faith…liberation…rhema…prayer…watchful…perseverance…supplication. Take out the soldier allegory and we are left with the fruit of the spirit life. Less William Wallace (I love that film though) and more Jesus. While we are walking around opposing children dressed up as goblins and ghouls we miss sharing the fruit with our community. Our attitude is sometimes  more effective for the enemy than any horror film.

Closing Thought.

At work we have a practising pagan priestess. In the past I would have prayed her out or prayed in fervour for her not to get a foothold in the workplace. Instead I have to say I enjoy talking to her and have discovered that she is only a human on a journey of faith and discovery herself. Maybe through a lack of seeing the church connect with the supernatural realm and connect with the earthly realm she has discovered a path that connects to these things. We talk about church, Jesus, heaven, festivals, life, eternity etc. I have found we have much in common. I do not think she is controlled by demons or working for the dark side, maybe a bit deceived and lost, but aren’t we all. Who knows what Light is touching her life as we talk. It saddens me to think that she has never had a Christian speak to her as a human being before once they discover her beliefs and practice. She is as lost in life as we all are, and like us all needs the One of Truth. She is part of my faith community. Surely all community is about embracing and not rejecting. After all wasn’t Daniel in charge of all those practicing the occult and magic arts. What a place of influence. He would not bow down to idols himself but he worked with those men as equals and fellow human beings. It is time we did the same. Right I am off now to watch brother Alice Cooper’s Halloween special concert on Sky Arts.

The Traveller’s Rest- A Bit Fruity.

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Cultivation Not Domination.

Better a patient man than a warrior, a man who controls his temper than one who takes a city. (Proverbs 16:32 N.I.V.)

Was visiting a friend I had not seen for ages yesterday, a prophetic guy that is also on a journey filled with valley and wilderness experience, but one finding God even in the darkest places. It was great just to share thoughts, experiences and Scripture concerning the journey we’ve been on and interesting to find so much common ground even though we have had no contact whatsoever. The above is a verse that he shared during that time and it was one that just resonated so much. Resonated because it speaks into journey of the past and also journey of the present and future. I am sure many of us reading this have been in the place of praying, longing for, acting for community transformation. Wanting to take our city for Jesus and becoming almost aggressive in attitude for such a thing to happen. After all the violent take it by force. We rose up as warriors for Christ, raised up the standard, wielded the sword of the Spirit and acknowledged that our warfare was not against flesh and blood but against principalities and powers in this dark world. Of course this may mean upsetting religious people and trying vehemently to tell people to turn or burn, but it was all in the process of establishing dominion rule. We loved to shout at demons and shout at the sky and even shout at people because we were not ashamed of the Gospel of the Lord Jesus Christ. Spiritual Warfare was high on the agenda if we wanted to see victory in the name of Jesus. I hear the sound of the army of the Lord, the sound of marching in the balsam trees, the sound of advancing and taking hold of land and work places, the media and family life and politics. No wonder the church became a domain for male domination. The only women that got a look in were the Deborah’s and Jaels with a nail. This was no place for the timid or weak or peace loving people, after all we needed to be bold and strong because the Lord our God was with us. That we probably killed more by friendly fire than we realise goes by the board. That those who had a more laid back nature were made to feel unworthy and walking in the flesh accusations flew through the air with looks and words of weight and condemnation because they were not picking up their spiritual arms. The church only became a place for people who related to action and possessing the land for Jesus. Yes we are called to have dominion on the earth, but never to tread on people and through aggressive behavior. Yes we are in a war, but this is not warfare as we see in the earth. What marks this army as being different is that love is the guide. The taking of ground takes place in our own lives as we look to cultivate fruit. Better a patient man than a warrior. That does not sound as exciting. That does not tickle the fascination with ruling and reigning and taking over and having thrones. But cultivation has to take president over domination. A man who controls his temper than one who takes a city. What is the point of ruling others when we cannot rule ourselves? Self-control is not popular teaching subject material but without it we could ruin a city rather than bring His reign to a city.

Back to the Garden

There is a sense in which going back to the garden is cultivating our heart for His fruit. But fruit when you want to take over the world is so tacky. We then spend much of our energies on how to change the world and others because surely getting people saved and communities transformed is where a difference is going to be made. No wonder we all end up scarred and battle weary.  No wonder we lose so many troops and injure ourselves and others in the crossfire. We will always try and change others before we try and change ourselves. In reality we know how tough it can be cultivating fruit in our lives so we would rather look impressive in our skills for battle. We don’t want trials to cultivate patience, we don’t want dark days to cultivate joy, we don’t want hurt to cultivate faithfulness. Surely these things will just be given as gifts if we faithfully shoot down the devil and shout at his hoard of demons! That is why we do end up loving the gifts more than the fruit, they are just given. Tongues, prophecy, miracles, healings, all great things to play with, and when we do we feel like warriors gaining ground. All this stuff without love though are trash. They are not a sign of God at work, just you at work in God’s gifts. If they are given as grace gifts then no wonder people of no character have walked in them. You can sleep with your secretary and give a prophecy, but you cannot do that and walk in love. Moving mountains is not what impresses God, nor is feeding the poor or martyrdom. Remember being gutted once going to a prophetic conference and the guy spoke on 1 Corinthians 13 being the most prophetic chapter in the Scriptures. I was so bored because I wanted to hear him prophesy, give me a word, teach me to prophesy better. I was looking for domination before cultivation. Now I just want to get back into the garden in the cool of the day and walk and talk with him. I want him to work my heart to bear forth fruit.

Fruit Bearing Is Not To Be a Burden.

The problem we can then have is condemnation as we look at the list and see where we fall short, or if we fail big time in these areas. This is not God’s intention or purpose of the fruit or a life of fruitfulness. We are not called to work on these things, we are not the gardener, Father is. All we are asked to do is remain, be, rest, dwell. There is really no doing to it at all. As long as we walk with Him as our Vine, then the gardener can cultivate as we dwell. Bearing fruit should never be a burden, it should be the most natural thing in the garden. It is a process of life. There are times and seasons and cycles of growth and pruning, but the Father has everything in hand. Then I am seeing more and more that transformation is possible and does happen. Not by claiming ground for Jesus and putting His flag up, but by realising that every change in me changes the community. How? Well if I walk in love the atmosphere is transformed. If I forgive and bear with someone the atmosphere is transformed. If I am patient and control my temper the atmosphere is transformed and I may yet see my city taken over. Not with rampant Christians wielding swords of Scripture verses and shouting at the sky to banish demons, but by touching one life at a time through love, grace, faith, patience, peace, forgiveness. I want to be more than a bit fruity.