Fire burns all the time…

In soaking group this week I recalled a truth and a ‘coincidence’ that at the time kissed my tired heart alive. It still leaves me in awe of a good God.

In 2008, I attended revival meetings in the USA. It was a big deal leaving my family. Master M was 15 months, and Mistress R not yet 5. I was home full time with them, and I missed them dreadfully. There were tears all round at the airport.

I came back from the US more on fire for God than I was before, if that was possible. I was already blazing hot, but I believed that the revival had set me more alight somehow, and I felt it was my job to keep that flame burning hot. Those women with oiled up lamps were onto something! (see Matthew 25:1-13)

I had already started to ‘stop for the one.’ I was seeing miracles, healings, and experienced profound encounters on the streets and in my own life. All unexplained by ‘logic,’ but none-the-less real. I would not have believed it if I had not experienced it myself.

As a young mum, life got busy, and the vigour seemed to settle somewhat. On the surface, I was running hot, but this striving perfectionist was not burning as hot as before, and it bothered me.

One afternoon, with the youngest asleep in bed, I sat at my desk and cried. R (5 years old by this time) sat on the floor quietly drawing. Deep in thought, she asked me how to spell a few words. Nothing profound. Nothing out of sorts.

Moments passed. I was miserable. I was so sad and knew I had somehow missed ‘it.’ I sat and struggling to work out how I could ‘fix it, fix myself’.

As I sat, a little person gently came to my side placing her masterpiece before me.

‘This is for you, mummy,’ she said with eyes shining. ‘God wants you to have this.’

And there, in red, orange and yellow pencil, were 5 words:

FIRE BURNS ALL THE TIME

I looked at her incredulously.

I had said nothing to her. I had kept my thoughts quiet in my mind.

Fire burns all the time…

The blaze may not be discernible, but it burns.

It does not take much to fan into flame.

Perhaps you are feeling the same?

If so, listen and look for God’s kisses through your days.

Spend time with Him (come for a soak with us even) and learn how to lean in.

A dry piece of kindling will catch fire and blaze hot if it leans into the flame; so too you. More kindling; greater flame. Community matters.

13 years on I reflect and see with some perspective. If I had kept the pace, I would have burnt out. I know some habits that help now, that I impart in teaching and in my writing. Longevity matters.

A wise man counselled me recently. He said if I have been able to keep doing what I have been doing for the last 10 years, then that was a sustainable Christian lifestyle. It has been a lifestyle that has space for the miraculous and family, friendship and community.

Fire burns all the time…

I believe 1 Samuel 3:3 holds one key.

The lamp of God had not yet gone out, and Samuel was lying down in the house of the Lord, where the ark of God was.

(1 Sam 3:3)

The lamp had not yet gone out. Samuel was lying down, positioned where God’s presence was. He did not recognise God’s voice at first, but with the help and guidance of a wiser, older one, he could respond when God called him a third time. Interestingly, Samuel was lying down in the house of the Lord – where God was in those days.

These days God is within you; around you; and face to face with you at all times.

So, we are the Ark of God, but are we listening well?

Will we position ourselves to hear?

 

We may be a lamp but if we’re not plugged in, we can’t shine the way we’re designed.

Fire burns all the time…

Will you kindle it into a flame? Lay your head upon His breast and listen to His heartbeat for you, for your family, for the nations?

I retold the testimony briefly in this weeks Aussie soak time. You can have a listen here:

 

Beth’s testimony Fire Burns All the Time (from the mouths of babes):

Fire burns all the time, it will never go out because…

God is Good!

Our story is HIS-story

As I write my God is Good stories, I am reminded of how He scatters His love throughout our lives and the communities in which we live.

I encourage you to write about your adventures with God. Even the so called ‘insignificant moments’ matter.

Through the years of my own testimonies, I see scattered gold dust; invitations into upgrades (missed in the moment); and a generosity of heart in His kindness.

I reflect and am saddened I have not captured more.

His extreme love for all those around us is palpable.

Every story matters for they form our history. Each story serves as testament to God’s nature and His character. Together as a whole they show a Truth, indisputable to those that read them.

We must treasure each story as our children’s inheritance, for that is what it is. In written (or spoken form) they serve as precedent, and create a foundation from which the next generation can draw to gain perspective and faith.

Our story is our history which, when considered collectively, becomes HIStory and HIS story is worth telling… it’s the story of Jesus in our time.

 

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Beloved Daughter

Grateful to have Beloved Daughter posted by Daughters of Love and Light as their featured written work.

Daughters of Love and Light have a focus that would make the Father’s heart sing.

I encourage you to have a look at what they are doing.

Beloved Daughter

Who are we?

Questions of identity stir. The depth of that quest for self is confronting, and so we keep busy, we keep moving…

The world says ‘Go, go, go!’

So we run.

We run until the light of the day goes, and when it has we flick the switch for more light and we party, eat, see friends, turn on screens, call people, text, comment, blog, find other things to do… for we must… not…. dare…. keep… still…, even for one moment! If we stop, that issue of self may chase us down and face us off squarely, showing us we are merely a puff of smoke on the horizon of the earth… read more here…

©Beth Kennedy 2021

 

Prophetic dream – open the door & enter in

I am the door. If anyone enters by Me, he will be saved, and will go in and out and find pasture. John 10:9

I’ve had a couple of dreams of late.

Who hasn’t?

One recent one, which brings comfort, especially as I repeatedly take it to God to seek clarification of its meaning, as He exposes layers upon layers, even through daily ‘happenings’ within our home through this time of so called ‘lock down’ was:

I found myself in a shopping area in Ringwood, which is the suburb where I grew up in Melbourne, Australia. I was in the carpark of Target Square. As I walked I felt uneasy, and as I looked around, I noted that there were terrorists all around me, huddled in groups with guns.

Naturally I was frightened, and I hoped they would not see me. As I walked I saw that they indeed did not see me. They huddled, ready for action. The fear was palpable. I tried not to draw attention to myself, hoping they would not open fire.

[yes lots for me to unpack people …]

The dream then shifted. I recall little of the mid-part, but all I sense about it was that I had been hiding, running, avoiding detection, perhaps with others too.

In the last scene, I was in a labyrinth like area with a group of others. The walls were high. Trapped, with pretty much nowhere to go, we could keep running, but it would continue to be more of the same. We would remain trapped, avoiding detection, hiding from the terror, trying to survive. Just more of the same.

The group that running with me was to my right. To my left, towering before me as I stood, was a huge, ancient looking heavy set wooden door, with dark metal work, hinges, etc, much like you would find in a castle. It was HUGE. The door was of significant (read very large) proportions.

I stood with the door before me – to my left. It hinged on the left. The people with me begged me not to open the door. They were full of fear of what was beyond the door. They said it could have the terrorists on the other side. Hesitantly, I paused, feeling the anxiety. I too feared what could be behind the door, but I said to them:

‘What other choice do we have but to open the door and go through? There is nowhere else for us to go. I must open the door, it may be a way out.’

I could no longer run and hide. I had to take the risk and open the door.

And so I did … I opened the door.

As I did, I saw beyond. It is difficult to explain what I saw as I stood on the thresh hold.

To explain what I saw would be like trying to explain colour to a blind man. The best I can do is to refer to how, in The Wizard of Oz movie, it shifts from black and white to multicoloured – but that just does not do it justice. It was so technicoloured, and what was beyond vibrated with energy, with life. How technicolour it was, how vibrant it really was… I can see it now as I write, and it leaves me breathless.

Beyond the door was a technicolour, vibrant scene. It vibrated; it shimmered, and it shimmered, and it shimmered. There were greens, golds, yellows, and hints of red. It was as if seeing it out of the corner of my eye, the shimmering life, the vibrating colour, humming with physical sound. It vibrated through my body, a visceral invitation to more.

There was life beyond the ancient of doors.

There was safety.

It was a garden, but the shimmering meant I could not quite see it with clarity.

I had to step in.

I smiled and looked at those with me. The group so full of fear. I let them know we were safe.

I woke just as I stepped through the door.

We are in days of wonder, yet the spirit of fear is yapping at our heels. I understand we are in a global pandemic … but God!

There is sadness, there is sickness, there is fear, there is a loss of jobs, there is crisis… but God!

Terrorists trade on fear, and on uncertainty. They trade on the idea that they may strike anywhere. They generate the fear through never knowing who they may hit next. The fear becomes palpable, real.

Through my legal work with refugees, hearing their stories, I have studied the impact of terrorism. I have met people in my work who have survived church massacres. I have sat through videos of unspeakable atrocity. The fear is visceral, insipid, dark and dangerous. It is the thing in the atmosphere worldwide now.

So I call upon the spirit of Hope, Faith, Kindness, Healing, family, Unity, Love.

I call forth the prophets, the seers, the creatives to find the Ancient of Days and to step through the Door. I call them forth to encourage others that hold back in fear, that it is ok, it is safe, to step through The Door.

Open The Door to freedom those that have gone before.

Open The Door to Safety; those that have been there before.

Step through and meet the Ancient of Days; those that seek and yearn.

Step through to Freedom, where you need to run, to hide no more.

Step through to taste and see that …

God is Good!

 

 

Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and eat with him, and he with me.

Rev 3:20

 

 

See, I am doing a new thing!
Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?
I am making a way in the wilderness
and streams in the wasteland.   

Isaiah 43:19