Deep Unto Deep

A Kingdom Word For Those Who Would Receive It

2012-02-10T10:45:00.000-06:00

I recently prophesied a word to a friend. I felt that most of the content was for others as well, so I asked Jesus for more. The following is what the Lord impressed me to share. It may seem distant from your present reality but lean into it anyways. He often speaks from eternal perspective, which is why it can sound disconnected from where your walk is at the moment. It may float in present tense and in future tense. These are observations of you from outside the bubble of time. Ask God to make this future reality collide with your present one. He will help you succeed with this because He really wants you to succeed.

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

I have given you much so that you can be a giver to others. I have comforted you so that you can comfort others. I love you with passion so that you will love others with passion.

Be encouraged. Keep pressing into My heart. I will open up the depths for you. As you spend time before me, I will cause you to explode on the inside with my resounding love song. I will echo resonantly and cause changes to happen in you from the inside out. You are my workmanship, my masterpiece. I will bring you to completion. I will refine and define you. That's my job. After all, a painting doesn't paint itself, does it?

I delight in making you look good. I love watching my lambs roar like lions. My process in you gives me glory. It has thrilled me to watch you grow up. You started walking in your diapers, then gained confidence and began running. But when you fell, I caught you. I wiped away your tears, but then you broke away to run some more. As you grew, you learned how to scale mountains while humming songs, my favorite songs. You learned how to worship Me in everything you do. You learned the ways of My Kingdom of Love. You learned how to hum throughout the day. I watched and smiled as you grew in confidence. Wherever you went I was also with you. You included me in your life. You stopped pushing me away. We did everything together.

As we began to walk as one, you began to do great damage to the Kingdom of Fear. My perfect love casts out all fears. My Love Kingdom pushes out that fear kingdom. The soles of your shoes are filled with demon guts. You trample on enemy forces. You don't seek out confrontations, you just walk with me, as we sing songs. The enemy begins to scatter when they see you coming. They hate your songs. You have grown out of their influence and are becoming a direct threat to their strategies. Continue to worship me in everything you do and I will fight your battles.

As you spend time with me, I line up people for you to minister to. You minister out of overflow, sharing my light with those that need it. They are greatly affected by the light bouncing off you. When you were still before Me, I polished you so you would be my reflector. Every time you are still before Me, I do this. You see, I paint you from the inside out as you fill your mind with my word. Then I polish you so that my painting shines bright from your interior outward. You mirror my likeness.

My favorite sound of all is the yes coming from your lips. That one word is the sweetest symphony and serenade for my ears. You are learning to always say yes to Me, like I did to My father when I walked on Earth. This is holiness, My Shulamite.

Obey Me.

Reflect Me.

A "MUNDANE" ROUTINE THAT LEADS TO CREATIVITY

2012-02-07T04:03:00.001-06:00

I am writing this as a result of a Facebook conversation about creativity. It started as a post by FBer Paulette Insall, referring to an internet article, "How Mundane Routines Produce Creative Magic". My approach is the antithesis of routine, and not mundane by any means. How Mundane Routines Produce Creative Magic Please share in my comments section after this post, about your daily routines. I value your opinion and would appreciate your input.

1) Do you have a daily routine that helps you create?

I concentrate on staying in constant communion with God. Very simple.

Hard to maintain at times, but I am growing in staying in this constant flow. I diligently work at cutting out distractions of any sort. When I first consciously explored this approach, I spent several days, even weeks, in my room alone with God. I did not plan on fasting but the Lord pulled me into it. No food or drink for days and not even missing it! I would get lost in His presence. I have found that it's easy to enter the disciplines when God woos you into them. They become effortless. If you want to change the way you think or behave, to come more in line with God - stand in His presence. It's hard to stay there and not get some of Him rubbing off on you.

I had my phone and sketchbook with me in my room, which enabled me to write/sketch out revelations from the Lord.

Many years ago, I attempted to maintain marathons in His presence like this, but I would inevitably be the one leaving, never God. He would say, "Don't go." I would later realize that in my hurry to run off to do errands, I didn't hear the rest of what he was telling me, "Don't go, take me with you." Those last four words have turned my lifewalk upside down.

I noticed that when I first started applying those four words, I had extreme difficulty. It's easy to be isolated, but very hard to reintegrate into a world that marches to the beat of a different drummer. I would leave my room on the second floor. By the time I reached the last step into the first floor, I had left my flow, and fizzled into an old man mindset, as if I had never had any exchange with the Lord. But God as Jealous Lover of my soul, patiently brought this to my attention. I retreated to my room as a saline puddle on the floor, crying out for a solution to this problem. I say this because all of this is His doing. It takes God to know God. I can only know Him by His revelatory permission, only entering in by His grace. There is nothing in me that enables me to access Him, other than the blood-stained garment of Christ (Hebrews 10:19-22).

This approach keeps me in constant flow. It may be quite different than other means. I run away from seeking my own expression. Part of being a minstrel (visual minstrel) is dedicating and surrendering my expression in favor of seeking out God's expression.There's power in the unaltered song of the Lord (music), or vision of the Lord (visual arts). Like King David, prophetic worshipers must be priests after God's own heart, a kingdom of priests. I never lose my identity in this. My expression always comes through in the process. God loves the soulic part of my being (when it is lined up with Him). HE SAVORS OUR FLAVOR. That's why I can say I'm His favorite and His flavorite.

One of the benefits, of using this "routine"(anything but mundane routine - a thrill for every second):
The creative element flows into everything you do. One can become a musician orchestrated into the symphony of life (even if you have a tin ear and don't know how to play). In other words, it provides the means to practice the presence of God, thereby enabling one to "walk in the Spirit". This is just the beginning. This is NORMAL CHRISTIANITY, the way God intends everybody to walk (that's a direct quote from the gospel according to TONY, he-he-he!). Good thing, there's no such book!

Even when recent illness (Quad bypass heart surgery and resultant nerve damage) derailed my ability to paint or play trumpet, God so wanted me to worship Him without skipping a beat that He brought in another avenue for me to explore: writing and poetry. He gave me the ability to focus my thoughts in words. The day before, I could not write. I mean I knew how because of schooling, but couldn't put words together, couldn't rhyme. Often, in school I would be the last one turning in an exam. I would get frustrated at the blank sheet whenever I attempted to journal. God so loves me that He provided a way for me to express my love to Him, when my other routes became too painful. Isn't that something how much He cares for every detail of our lives? I love Him so.

One of the most difficult things I find with this approach:
1) Time oriented things
Schedule is an area that I find most difficult. I am on God's schedule, not my own. When I spend long hours before God I find myself in the timeless place with the eternal God, the Ancient of Days. Because of that, He has stretched my understanding of schedule, of anything related to time. He has taught me to view things from eternal perspective. I now know the value of pulling back from viewing things from a human mindset. I don't always do it, because I am a work in process. But at least, I am aware that God's ways are high above man's ways of thinking.

During the long stretches with the Lord, He began showing me another discipline (like fasting, silence, or solitude). It is an outgrowth of the Watch of the Lord. I call it the discipline of the "Surrendered Schedule". It's not for everyone, most cannot grasp the importance of it or even the validity. But it is another form of voluntary weakness. It causes a wooing cry within your spirit. It is yet another avenue to walk while worshiping God. If you have time for it.

I used to work as a limousine chauffeur. I always had to be on time, in fact, early and well prepared for my client's needs. When my client arrived I was on their schedule. They paid by the hour and I did whatever they wanted (well almost whatever), drove wherever they wanted to go, even if it meant driving across multiple states. Whenever I went on these long excursions, It was so difficult to return to the usual everyday schedule of airport transit. So it is with serving God in this manner.

2) People think you're anti-social
While He is working this way of living into my life, it will seem that way. But I have noticed that He causes me to view people in a different way. It seems that everyone has become precious to me. When I am around people, I find it easier to give wholeheartedly into their lives. I can say this because I used to be a sourpuss. Even now, when I grow distant from God that's a sure way of knowing I'm off. I return to my curmudgeon dudgeon dungeon.

I see that He isn't going to let me stay a miserable shambles. I think it's because of those dangerous prayers. You know the ones, "God do whatever it takes to...", or we've all prayed, "make me just like Your Son". I think I winced immediately when those words rolled off my tongue. I think Misty Edwards knows exactly what I mean. Listen to her song ,"You Won't Relent (Until You Have It All) -Track 4 on my blog's Mix Pod above. My Heart is Yours, oh God, most worthy, most holy! You are my everything, my. . .

. . .Where am I? . . .What's my name? I just fell on the floor. Oh Yes, back to writing.

Is this isolated approach worth all it entails?

Even with the difficulties, it is absolutely worth everything. It is worth all the things I give up, the things I used to call "loss". Now I see them as gain. I am finding that God is helping me reintegrate back to a do-able schedule. What I gain is a slight shift in thinking that enables me to re-enter whenever I feel I am growing distant.

Walking this way is like learning a new embouchure (mouth formation) on the trumpet. At first it seems like it's not worth it, but after a while you gain confidence about why you made the change in the first place. Well worth all the changes and times when you thought you couldn't do it.

2) What are the most important triggers for your creative state of mind?

Only three:
Abba Father
Jesus, Darling Son of God
Ruach, Spirit of the most high God

3) What happens to your creativity if your routine is interrupted?

I fall out of sorts. It can lead to personal mayhem. It's both disastrous and painful to dull down once you become sensitized. It's like reintroducing poison into your body's system after you have worked hard to detox. The great thing is God wants me to succeed. So even when I fail, He brushes me off and helps me get back up. Yay God. None of this would be possible or even fathomable, if I were an atheist. But then again, God doesn't believe in Atheists. Yay God, again.

Hill Where the Lord Hides

2011-12-28T04:17:00.000-06:00

Hill Where the Lord Hides
Here is another video from the Friends and Love Concert posted elsewhere. The piece played here is "Hill Where The Lord Hides". This song was especially dear to me back then. As a high school freshman, just starting out on the trumpet, I loved to listen to Chuck's music.

But this song in particular was close to my heart. I would play my recording and do what many Jesus followers now call "soaking". I would "soak and drift in" the music, while breezing in its uplifting currents. I could play that vinyl recording over and over again. As I did so, I would think of that title and imagine that hilltop where God hides from most men.

As the music played, I could visualize my steep upward climb through the dense brush, finally arriving at the place where I would find my Jesus waiting for me. For me, it was an imagined mountaintop, much like the fortress of solitude I describe here on this blog. For Moses, it was Sinai. For Abraham and son, it was Mt. Moriah. And Jesus had His Calvary, as God the Father hid his face from His Son, mankind's savior.

That was way back in 1973, when you couldn't find much of a selection of Christian worship or soaking music. I was delighted that one of my jazz heroes would even mention the Lord in his song title.

http://youtu.be/JWxVccIk1c0

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" . . .making music, poetry, and paintings that capture beauty pointing to infinity."

Early Don Potter With Chuck Mangione

2011-12-28T03:39:00.000-06:00

Below, all the way down at the bottom of this post, you'll find two video treasures with some beautifully written music. It's from Chuck Mangione and features Don Potter, an outstanding Christian worship leader and musician. I remember this album when it came out, but didn't realize it was Don Potter on guitar and vocals. Don is truly the consummate musician's musician. I deeply enjoy his musicianship and expressive love for God.

This is from 1970. The conductor is Chuck Mangione, before the trademark hat. Although it isn't a worship setting in the traditional sense, the vocals (written by Gap Mangione, I believe) are especially meaningful. The words speak of a man's cry for deeper meaning, but in it, I could hear a cry for God and the need for God to fill. I hear Don's cry.

On this video are many musicians that I respect. Trumpeters Marvin Stamm, Vince DiMartino, and Al Porcino, saxophonists Gerry Niewood, and Chris Vadala, the entire Rochester Philharmonic, and many others from the Eastman School Of Music crowd from back then.

I loved listening to Chuck from this period, but I also like his early years with Art Blakeys Jazz Messengers. Chuck's arrangements and orchestrations always had this uplifting, spiritual quality, not the faux-spiritual, humanistic parallel present in so much of the 'searching-but-never-really-finding' culture at large. I have watched those "King Of The Hill" TV episodes where they poke fun at Chuck (some very funny satire), but I think Chuck is an underrated musician and composer (a downright genius, ok?) who taps into extraordinary levels of expression.

Chuck has a quality that is highly valuable to any musician or artist, prophetic or not - ACCESSIBILITY. I don't know if Chuck knows Jesus. I hope and pray he does (for his own sake), but his music touches the heavenly realm. I'm sure I'll ruffle a few feathers with that one. So be it. I learned a lot from Chuck about music message, presentation, artistic potency and sensitivity. God used those Mangione lessons in my life walk to give him glory.

One fond memory from my youth was about the typical bus ride on the way home from my High School. I rode the "green limousine", another name for a Chicago CTA bus. My daily trip was a five mile ride with a transfer to a second bus. On most days I would stop at the record store one mile away from home. I was a sight to behold. I always carried a full, draw-string book bag over my shoulder, along with my trumpet and a large, black portfolio of my latest artwork.

I was known at the record store as "the trumpet kid with all the bags". I would be there at about 3:30, and claim a "listening room" (a small acoustic tiled room for "spinning sides" or playing vinyl LP records, if you will. You could sample any album before buying. I usually didn't buy. They put up with a lot of my nonsense. I would hog up that room for hours or as long as any serious art and music student had time for). I'd play selections from the latest music from Chuck, Dizzy Gillespie, Maynard Ferguson, Cannonball Adderley, etc. Then I would go home and work out the solos I had just heard earlier.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Another thing I learned about 'Signore Mangione, Il Maestro':

When Chuck was a kid, Chuck's father would bring him and brother Gap, to see the visiting jazz musician in town. He brought him to see Dizzy Gillespie. Chuck's father made sure that his kids met him and even would invite him to pasta from Mrs. Mangione.

My early life had similar parallels. Although I didn't have a family member bringing me to concerts or introducing me to jazz legends, I did it on my own. I would invite them to my family's house for dinner and would pester a private lesson out of them (with notables like Dizzy Gillespie, Art Farmer, or Clark Terry). The interaction with these legendary musicians greatly sped up my musical progress. This approach I learned directly from Chuck Mangione, or maybe I should credit his parents.

I find it amazing how God will use influences of all types, even those outside His church, to hone an expressive voice in one of His kids. Don't you?

(Note: Before you watch, you'll want to pause the MixPod video player located on this page to the left, right above the "About Me" section.)

http://youtu.be/1hw_6s-dHR8

(Note: Do you recognize this very young Don Potter?)

http://youtu.be/gK8acjgnAm0

More from that concert at this post. Click —>>>(Click here)

†
^o^ ^o^ ^o^
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". . .making music, poetry, and paintings that capture beauty pointing to infinity."

A Modern 288

2011-12-11T09:12:00.001-06:00

A Modern 288

Much of the secular, modern art movement is focused on shock art, that is, art with a negative pole that drains the viewer's positive pole. The movement of Kingdom artisans, who focus on God's beauty realm, is producing art with a positive pole that fills the viewer's negative pole. The battery is inverted to it's proper position, filling rather than draining.

These prophetic artists are like "the 288" in scripture, that Israel put in the front of the army when going into battle. The 288 were singers, musicians, and dancers, that worshiped God as they marched . While Israel focused on God with worship, God smote the enemy, without Israel directly engaging the enemy (kinda like Martin Luther King's nonviolent protest, or the life movement's protest with red tape over mouths).

What we do, in this "Army of Artisans", is combat the kingdom of darkness, by focusing on the good of God. God does the rest.

We are enamored and enthralled with beauty. Even when we describe ugly we do so through the eyes of beauty beholders. I have a friend, who is enjoying success as a painter. His trademark paintings are interpretations of rotten fruit. When I see his work, I am deeply moved by his injection of beauty into the ugly. What once was an object to be tossed into the trash becomes immortalized on canvas, moving people to tears.

You see, God don't like ugly. When we, as His focused artisans and musicians, express ourselves, beauty pours out from us. It's all because of Him.

The Creative Genius of God

2011-12-08T16:06:00.000-06:00

I really enjoy Larry Randolph's ministry. He makes some good points especially valuable to us artist types. Yes Larry, I have been created with 'muscle for the tussle'.

The Ulterior of My Interior

2011-12-03T10:55:00.001-06:00

The Ulterior Of My Interior

the ulterior of my interior

needs to exit

torward exterior.

the dark motive deep inside,

needs eviction

to end its ride.

these underlying bits

of stubborn grit

need heavenly help

to bring omit.

like gritty dirt

in a celery stalk.

it can effect my daily walk.

once I watched

a tv chef

show how

to clean a leek

from the nitty gritty.

when he was done

he had something

whittled down

so very nice and pretty.

Lord, i'm gritty

and oh, so leek-y.

won't you whittle

me down

nice, clean and squeaky?

Why Marvin Was Starvin’

2011-12-03T10:51:00.001-06:00

Written for all the starvin' Marvins in my life.

Why Marvin Was Starvin’

And Marvin was starvin’ -

so poor and needy.

But thought perhaps

he was too greedy.

Didn’t know the

ways of God.

When he heard

he thought it odd.

Good news settled

into his heart.

Now he knew what

was his part.

Down to floor

on bended knee.

Accept God’s Son

to be set free.

The odd of God

can make you wonder.

Could it be error

or divine blunder?

Why would God stand

at the right hand

Of such a poor

and needy man?

Really his heart

didn’t doubt.

Just had to ask

and vent and spout.

As life went on

God answered queries.

Built his faith, and

ironed out worries.

God would mold

his faith foundation.

For God’s name

and reputation.

God saw fit to

shape and carve.

The work of art

He saw in Marv.

God would reshape

Marvin’s heart.

Expand his heart

for Godly lovin’.

Then He’d throw

him into the oven.

Funny thing

about this Marvin,

Valued baking time

in oven.

Marvin saw his dross

burn right off.

Not so bad

altho’ it was tough.

Now this Marvin loved to

watch things burnin’.

This became a

sort of yearnin’.

In a healthy

kinda’ way,

He loved watchin’

glaze on clay

Knew that beauty

came from ashes.

Great insulatin’

for life’s clashes.

Another odd

in things of God,

How one could yearn

so much to burn,

And be a torch

without a scorch,

Between the altar

and the porch.

Amy Whose Craft Was Given

2011-12-03T10:42:00.001-06:00

A prophetic poem for my friend, Amy Craft Given.

Amy Whose Craft Was Given

God has this woman

whose craft was given

to bring glory

and honor to God

She did so and saw

many a guffaw

along with folk's

noggins in nod.

Tickled they were

about her work

But Amy thought

What's all the perk

about my work

I thought it was filled

with many a quirk?

Why are people

going so berserk?

Then God said

some words in red:

"Amy, Amy, whose

craft is given

I'll tell you now just

why you were driven

To do work out of My

Spirit led livin'.

The reason for all the fuss and

why many chose to discuss -

It's me they see,

they'll all agree

Your work has me

as a plus.

It's when you paint

without complaint

I choose to inspire

without restraint.

That's why your work

contains my taint.

You really are

My paintin' saint.

You honor me -

your brush strokes decree

the path to me

to break men free.

Because of that

I AM in GLEE!

The Fiber Of A Thought

2011-11-22T12:48:00.001-06:00

A new painting already exists, in my mind's eye, for this new poem. It's already finished in my head. It just hasn't been executed yet on a physical canvas. Likewise, I'm feeling the pull, to go into the recording studio with the trumpet.

This one is sparking me back to my bebop jazz roots. I 'd like to put something together with poetic narration supported by an acoustic jazz quartet.

The Fiber Of A Thought

we all know the importance

of having fiber

in the diet.

the fiber acts as

an intestinal broom,

sweeping tummy's

discomforting gloom.

when gases press in

with no more room,

that's why we reach for

an intestinal broom.

so, fiber in the diet

keeps tummy

very, very quiet.

but what happens when

the brain

is under attack

and thinking thoughts that

are so black?

how do we tinker

with gas in our thinker?

for what, oh Lord,

do we reach?

can someone pass

the brain bleach?

please God, please,

deliver a speech!

it's the fiber of a thought

a thing so rarely taught.

of highest caliber

this Godly fiber

intermeshed and

intertwined

from God alone,

it's so designed

as rescue plan

for us to stand.

it's holy relief for

humankind's mind.

the mind of Christ

is hidden in a helmet,

preventing me

from hellish plummet.

donning this cap

provides the fix.

so read more about it

in ephesians six.

of what great value,

this mind of Christ.

one might deem

this find high-priced

the brooming fibrous thoughts

of my God's mind,

what better answer

to bring unwind

to dark usurps

and devilish burps.

praise Jesus for this

brainy bromo seltzer -

His way to cover

my thoughts

with a shelter,

from a barrage of the

whispering devious,

to delete dark out -

going back to the previous.

"Rev Four, Foot To Floor" and "Meta Taute"

2011-11-20T08:16:00.001-06:00

This theme goes by two names, "Come Up Here" and "Meta Taute"(which means 'after this', in the original Greek, the first two words of Revelation Chapter Four, A favorite that I can spend hours lost in meditation on.). Since most people scratch their heads when I say "Meta Taute", I commonly refer to this as "Come Up Here".

Following this is a companion poem entitled "Rev Four, Foot To Floor".

Rev four, foot to floor

Rev four -

foot to floor

I feel the pull

of the open door.

Rev four -

foot to floor

Trump voice speaks

"Come up and soar"

Foot to floor

right through the door

The pull, the yank

gripped through my tank.

Rev four -

foot to floor

A burning, churning

within my core.

Rev four -

A thundering rumbling

Symphony sounding

Now I'm crumbling.

Dive to floor

break into sweat

All because

His Presence met.

Rev four -

light beyond burning

Holy One sparks up

my heart's yearning.

Stay on floor -

in saline puddle

The glory realm is

not so subtle.

Rev four -

back to my feet.

Grace to stand

and not retreat.

Rev four -

watch to see

Twenty four crowns

On elderly.

Rev four -

all bowed down

Arms extended

offering crown.

Count'em four

blazing creatures.

Eyes and wings

as primary features.

Rev four -

What are they

thinking?

Eyes on me

without a blinking.

Waves of praise

in call and response

He fills all desires

and all wants.

Rev four

onto the next

to watch a lamb

crack open a text

Rev five -

I'm still alive.

A Cannon In God's Canon

2011-11-20T03:40:00.001-06:00

Here is a poem that I was moved to write about my friend, Canon Andrew White after a brief exchange, a few hours ago on Facebook:

I have this friend, a fearless friend
In many ways a real God-send
He has this subtlety to bring an influence,
Encouraging many towards God pursuance.

He's like the bridge over troubled waters
Heaven smiles with many applauders.
Been used by God in many scrambles,
Bringing a sense of peace to a world in shambles.

He knows the way of Godly crushing
that leads to flushing, blushing, and gushing
while shoulders are breezed in Holy Spirit brushing.

As is in sync with God's reborn,
Knows the value of his thorn.
Just like Jacob right after his bout
All night wrestling, I'm talking about.

An outright skirmish
(not for the squeamish).
Left with reminder in a hip that's torn.
to hobble with cane - well, that's his thorn.

A mystery thorn was given to Paul,
Pride's deterrent for a higher call.
A lesson from this we all can glean.
Stay low, close to God, in order to stay clean.

A simple prayer for brother Andrew
More of God to see him through.
Oh, dear Lord, won't you shower your essence?
Your kindly fix for the bodily dents.

Protect our friend, whose friends, (just for starters,)
Have gone on as precious saints and martyrs
Let him fill that dream You have
To heal world wounds with a holy, blood salve.

- Tony Mujica ©2011

I had the pleasure of meeting Canon Andrew White when he ministered at a HUB conference (HUB stands for His United Body, a local Chicago group, led by Nancy Magiera, that often hosts prophetic people from all over the globe) that I also ministered at as a prophetic artist back in 2006. I was working on a painting depicting John on the isle of Patmos, just as the door opened in Revelation chapter four. I continue working on it throughout the conference.

I noticed that whenever I looked behind me, this one man was always gazing at my canvas. His eyes seemed to be fixed my way. He would be at stage right. Then later I would see him at another vantage point to the left. I soon found out, when he took the platform as conference speaker, that this was Canon Andrew White.

There were many supernatural things that happened concerning that event. For example, my wife and I lived north of Chicago in Evanston, Illinois. On the opening day of this conference, we had to bring our dogs to my mother's house, just west of downtown Chicago, while we would spend the weekend at the conference.

We left early before noon, to give ourselves time to get there. It was a Friday, which in Chicago means severe traffic backups. Our route wasn't an easy one since there's really no quick way to get from Evanston to North Riverside and then to Naperville.

I noticed traffic everywhere. Every shortcut that I knew (from my 17 year career as a Limousine driver) failed. Amy and I decided to worship, as we stood in traffic. No sense fretting over something beyond our control.

We arrived at my mother's house, quickly bringing dogs and accessories in. We stayed for a very short visit and returned to our car. Time continued on in it's rude, persistent manner with no concern for our appointment. These events require lots of equipment - easel, painting stuff, drop cloths, laptop, etc. that had to be set up in advance, so as not to disturb the gathering's worship.

We found ourselves in the last tollway before our destination. Traffic was bumper-to-bumper and moving, but moving ever so slowly. I saw a sign, the kind that is synced with overhead GPS monitoring (these are very accurate, I've learned to trust and used them daily in my job environment). I did quick calculations and realized we were not going to make it on time. That sign posted twenty minutes to get to Naperville. That would have made us ten minutes late at minimum and would present a big worship distraction.

We continued to worship, even kicking it up a notch because of the situation. I called the hotel and they sent people with carts to meet us when I arrived.

As I drove, I can't say that the sea parted for us, but what should have taken twenty minutes only took four minutes! There is no explanation for this, those four minutes actually seemed like twenty. The awaiting crew had me on stage and ready to paint just before the worship downbeat.

...And now, back to Canon Andrew White.

Canon started his teaching. At some point he referenced the painting. He shared how he couldn't help but stare at it, from the moment I started it onward. He told the conference that it ushered in the atmosphere of heaven, that the glory of God filled the hall. This was a word from God that I needed to hear at that hour.

You see, I had been talking to Amy about retiring my brush. I sang the sad song, you probably know the lyrics, "Nobody really wants to see your work. It really stinks. If you stop nobody will even notice."

God has a way of using people to bring an encouragement to us. God used Andrew White.

Ecce Homo

This painting is another version of "Ecce Homo" that I started at a different conference (Karitos 2009). It stands just over 4' tall.

I also painted another piece during this meeting. An interpretation of a classic biblical theme that many of history's painter have tackled, "Ecce Homo" which means 'behold the man'. It depicts Jesus after flogging before Pilate. He stands as the humble king broken before Pilate, whipped and beaten, with crown of thorns, draped in crimson, majestic robe stained with the blood essence of His suffering and filled with traces of Bethany Mary's poured out perfume from just days before (This sweet perfume serves as a soft reminder of His future bride to be, us. Every time the cat-o-nine tailed whip removed flesh from His back, He probably thought, "Oh yes my lovely bride." I think this is why He said she would be eternally remembered.) He holds a branch given by mockers as a scepter. He is about to talk to Pontius about truth. He stands as a direct contrast to the second coming Victory King, the Bozrah man of Isaiah 59:16-19 and Isaiah 63, who comes to wipe out His enemies.

At some point, Andrew was ministering up front. I was a tired, weeping puddle on the floor. The Lord gently whispered to me while I was in prostrate brokenness.

He said, "Get up and paint another."

Although I was tired (having stood the bulk of the conference to paint), I got up, in obedient response, and painted faster than I'd ever painted. My hand moved lightning fast, occasionally dipping to the palette to recharge brush. I knew that Holy Spirit was guiding me. All I could see was a big blur as I watched the painting fall into place. Since then, I've experienced this type of Holy Ghost intervention, usually when I'm depleted or feeling broken. It's the moment He waits for, when you have exhausted your ability's reserve. Then He moves, as if to show you the way it should always be done. I completed that painting within an hour's passing.

I was asked to briefly talk about the painting on the final day of that gathering. I especially remember saying the following:

"This painting is not only about John the beloved on Patmos, it's also about you, Canon. This painting shows John sitting on a rock in Patmos. I see him as you. Canon Andrew White sitting, before God, on a rock in Iraq."

Andrew White bought both paintings from that weekend. He was responsible for preventing this artist from throwing in the towel.

Below is a small drawing from one of my sketchbooks. It is a variation of the Patmos theme that Andrew purchased. I'll show in a separate post, a recent poem ("Rev Four, Foot To Floor") that goes with the sketch.

This drawing is very small - about 6 inches or so in height.

The Stoning Candidate

2011-11-16T18:37:00.001-06:00

Ever wonder why He wrote on the ground?

the rocks were found

ready to be hurled

He wrote on the ground

my destiny unfurled

the rocks were dropped

my accusers stopped

what did He write

that turned faces white

follow Him I must

the one that I trust

He sees me differently

than all other men

treats me wonderfully

because it's when

the bulk of my pain,

soaked up and sponged

the heart pains soothed

while sin-crimes expunged

evaporate to dark mist

sink into dark past

but ongoing lingering

of whispers about me

judgments cranked

where God has no mem'ry

those that take sides

have no understanding

their thoughts of me just

like hot iron branding

head below heart

positioned to depart

to the place of meeting

to heal heart's bleeding

Yeshi does understand

life's cruel cold hand

yes He does understand

He's both eraser

- and embracer

forgiven and held

my spirit propelled

shot into the heights

without former frights

now i could face them

now it's no problem

why should i care

about man's approval?

i, as reject,

became His project

when life goes south

and things go bust

instead of hardening

developing crust

run to Him

the one to trust

Him alone, yes,

Him, you must

Outside Of Time

2011-11-02T03:31:00.000-05:00

God can move the artist who listens for His direction. For artists with multiple art forms, God speaks in many ways.

Outside Of Time

Outside of time-

Inspired art

and rhyme.

Colors splashed,

the words

intertwined.

Drawings move

into poetry,

And the tomes

spark imagery.

Of transcendental essence,

I hope and pray.

Escaping to ponder

The Life, Truth, and Way.

Thoughts of my King,

an air current's lift,

I turn my wings

just so,

to make shift.

But now I must go

and toot my horn.

Been so long,

...I hope,

not so foreign.

Translating

pix and words

into sound.

Melodies

glorifying Him

to be found,

Playing to

an audience of one,

at least.

Hope the neighbors

like this

sound feast.

A little loud,

I reach for

the mute.

Might've been better,

had I studied the flute.

Bitter Sweet

2011-11-02T03:09:00.000-05:00

Bitter Sweet

The scroll had been eaten,

musta' been sweeten'd.

It went down so good,

not like

I thought

it would.

But after a while

gone was my smile.

And in it's place

a frown graced my face.

The bubbly burped up -

just what did I sup?

That scroll,

to be sure.

Bitter bubbles

need a cure.

His divine suggestion

(for spiritual indigestion) -

"Speak words about Me,

how I love'm,

decree.

Here's the relief

for your bottled grief.

Prophesy a while,

to get back your smile.

"When you ate the scroll,

My words had their toll.

But the scroll was blank

as it went down your tank.

"Empty of words

of content specific

I fueled you up

with spontaneous prolific.

I'm filling you up

to spout

off-the-cuff.

"A word for the moment

and if that's not enough -

You could chirp out a song

to my forest birds

They'd get the message,

through My chirpy words."

Earth Prays

2011-11-02T02:38:00.000-05:00

Earth Prays

Time is

of the essence

We are hungered

for your presence

One can hear

the groans-

Listen! The Earth,

it moans.

The funnels twist,

the deluge pours.

Tsunamis overtake

coastal shores.

Earth knows a thing

most men do not.

As winter blisters cold

and summer

boils hot.

As if to bemoan

our sad condition,

Weather delivers its

stern petition:

"Mankind has seen

a better day.

Even the wind knows

when to pray.

"When Creator, will You

bring forth

Seven-burners synced

in Ruach's force.

Men called forth

in Holy Flame

Written about,

of Bible fame.

"More than that, when

will He come.

The Father's Heart is

where He's from.

He sang our forces

into being

Rocks and stones

respond with

singing.

"Why does man

choose disbelief?

We know the source

of your great grief

It is quite simple,

don't you agree?

Came down to Earth

to set us all free."

Power in the Hour

2011-11-02T02:03:00.000-05:00

Power in the Hour

It happened again for

a conference goer,

Who pleaded the mighty God

to show 'er.

Love's expanse

contained inside 'er

To a heart opened

just slightly wider.

She fell to floor, but

would've gone lower

Far below life's blades,

the cruel mower.

A bit from the know that you

know that you knower.

Love propels beyond

fear and doubt

To the point past containment,

right into the shout.

"I'm loved! I now know -

no reason to fear!

Passion fire kindles

for One held so dear."

Deep churning continued

amidst sizzling burning.

(you know, the kind that

leads one to turning.)

To go face to face, endure it,

one must.

Beyond the fear point,

and into the trust.

Now you don't have to

frequent a conference

To experience this level

of transference.

He's more than willing

to help and comply.

But beware circuit overload

to crispy overfry.

Fear God and worship

with all your heart,

That's your compliance,

your small little part.

In order to woo,

to romance and pull,

The One who pours,

who fills to full.

He loves to display

that delightful skill,

Far greater than

any medical pill.

He dazzles to dizzy,

'til you're in a tizzy.

To the edge, the very

brink of overkill.

Conference goer,

trembling on the floor:

"Why did I ask

to be shown more,

Something yanked,

and then I cried,

The mind was fried,

and ugly parts died.

When, God, when

can we do this again?"

A Burden Over Covenantal Compromises

2011-11-02T01:18:00.000-05:00

A Burden Over Covenantal Compromises

A burden took root in my heart -

a plant of the Burdengiver's art.

My heart was gripped,

the cup was sipped and
now I could pray out my part.

He snuck it on me

so I would see,

Then pray it, declare it,

make a decree.

At first, I did't know -

prayer's purpose
He'd later show.

So I prayed it in tongues

at the top of my lungs.

In sync with the Father's flow.

I know the value of

weep soaked prayer.

Without the tears

it has no flair.

No taste, no fragrance

to fill the air

And mark it's trek

toward Abba's nose.

With tears, it's like the

smeared, crushed rose.

Humility's scent brings

victory over foes.

Let me feel

just what

You feel,

Your heart's pain

enhances my real.

Let Your emotion

be my potion.

A simple fix ignites

my passion.

May Your tear be

my tear.

Let this not be just

another "draw near".

But saline insights to

things unseen.

So I might see just

what You mean.

What causes the Creator of all

to cry?

Answer me, Lord,

I wanna know why.

The cause of the weep

from Your darkest deep.

Why do You awaken me

from my sleep?

Why spur me toward

Shamar's watch wall?

What holy words would You

have me call?

I follow Your pull and

weep with you

Your burdens you share

with selected few.

You pointed out

in Ezekiel Sixteen

The babe saved, fed -

You'd later wean,

How she hurt You

to the core.

You longed for her willingness

so You could restore.

The pain hurt so, but,

was it planned?

"I'll tell You now in terms

you'll understand.

And show you a glimpse

of why I ache.

You know full well

the pains of break,

The separation of

man and wife.

We share in common

that aching strife.

"My servant Zeke

I sparked to speak.

He uttered my pains for

his day and now.

It pained me so

to take an action.

Against the object

of my affection.

To pull her away

from lovers lesser.

Got finer garments with which

to dress her.

How many times

was she distracted?

Every time

I was impacted.

"It's the church within

a nation.

I'd like to bring

consecration.

But off course

she veered

Did what her lover

had feared.

Covenantal compromise

as much as that is unwise.

Oh, the thing that

blocks my love."

In the book of

Psalms One Three Three,

Holy oil runs down

Aaron's face.

A united bride

so full of grace.

Even Hell's gates

will not prevail.

Against a warring bride who

will not fail

But there she sleeps

with compromise.

As much as that is unwise.

So now I begin

to comprehend

With tears I join

my God, my friend.

My prayers are flavored

in saline tear,

A heartfelt prayer

now leaves this sphere.

As salted incense

floats up above.

The things you'll do 'cause

God you love.