A Collection of Thoughts on God, Prophetic Art, the Prophetic Painter's Process, and the Meditative Reflections that Lead to Sanctified Art.

Notes From The Fortress of Solitude



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Notes From The Fortress of Solitude

In the world of comic books, Superman had his place to retreat, the Fortress of Solitude. It was located near the North Pole, far away from the world's distraction and hectic pace. It was his secret place. I also have a secret, retreat place. It's a place to meet with a real-life hero, Jesus of Nazareth.

I used to call it "my cave", but it's not a place to escape from life, nor is it a hole in the ground. I don't run to it only when things go bad, or when I get wounded. When I'm there, I'm not in the dark. You see, it's a place filled with light. When I go there the atmosphere of Heaven surrounds me. It's where I find strength, strategies, and revelation. It's my high tower. It's my personal Fortress of Solitude.



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Deep Unto Deep Video Mix

Music Comes To The Fortress Of Solitude
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Sunday, May 6, 2012

A Heart No One Else Could Open

by Tony Mujica
Sometimes the encounter you pray for isn’t quite what you expected.


I saw my heart lying there in the middle of the throneroom. Its beat was constantly throbbing; it pulsed with life.

Engraved upon it was this:

"No room for lesser lovers."

It had a seal upon it. No one could open it's seal — no one, that is, except One.


Lo and behold, I heard the voice of the Word. The lone heart on the floor looked like it was wanting to move. If it had legs it would have ran toward the Voice. It became animated after hearing the resounding Word.



"Henani! Here I am, the One who shuts so no one opens and opens so no one shuts!"



My heart pounded so forcefully it looked like someone was in it trying to punch his way out. Indeed, it had already succeeded in running on ahead of me to meet the Lover of my soul.



With scarred hands, He picked up my heart. I expected Him to pull out a set of keys from His pocket. He did not. Instead He held the heart in His left hand and with His right hand He lined up the hole of His palm scar over the center of the heart seal latch.



My heart opened. Dim light escaped from within it. It was dim, but at least it was lit. It was like putty in His hands, waiting for reshaping.



"Come forth!", He boomed with authoritative command. A wisp of amber light trailed in spiral pattern out from the heart. At first I thought it was smoke but no smoke could burn so bright. The light was alive. It seemed to move with a mind of it's own. It broke from It's initial spiraled release and, in improvised trail, it made it's way to its' source, the one called "the Light of men".



My light moved toward His feet, and paused as if it were bowing before Him. Then it wrapped around His legs and caressed Him like a kitten brushing one's leg. Then the amber continued wrapping around the rest of his frame. His own light, which already was ablaze, seemed to grow even brighter. His smile broke into deep laughter. I think He knew what I was thinking.



"Yeshua, my Lord, I never thought it would look like this. You're brighter. Is it really because of my light?



"Yes, Yes. I released the light of life that I deposited in you, years ago. You have been through a lot of adversity. I have been releasing grace to shine in stages throughout your walk with me. I grow brighter because you, as overcomer, give me glory."



I looked into those eyes , so full of love and acceptance. I did not want to blink. My body was at the point of collapse, but His eyes seemed to hold me from falling.



"Now, I have fanned the flame of passion needed to run the course of your remaining years. I did not remove the scar tissue around your heart. The evidence of your wounding remains, just like the scars on my own hands."



I thought I would be healed in my body. Before I could think a disappointed thought, He told me, "Your healing is not here today. Go on with faith and continue to please me. For now, My grace will do."



"I breathe life into you, so that you can love others with a purer love. That is your best weapon against the kingdom of fear. Be filled with my Agape and guard your heart to stay tuned into Me."



The amber smoke light trail unwrapped itself from Yeshua as I continued to stare at my Jesus. I blinked and Jesus left the room. My heart was no longer on the floor. It paced within my chest. I felt so alive and reassured. I thought that it was odd because I was sure I was getting healed this time. I can't explain it, but I could continue on now, with all the physical pain, even with all the disappointing heartache of life. Shalom peace rested on me.



I found myself back in my bed. Knowing that someday I will be healed.


— Tony Mujica ©2012

Tuesday, April 3, 2012

Tina Guo music video - Apres Un Reve - YouTube

Tina Guo music video - Apres Un Reve - YouTube:


This video touches me in a deep way. Tina's Cello squeezes my heart.

The puppetry is amazing. At 03:14 is a prophetic picture of the position of the humble servant before God with heart below head. Heart below head happens in the lowest bow of deep worship. It's here that one lines up with God. Our mind gets out of the way and lets the heart commune with the One beyond comprehension, whose ways are higher than ours.

Sunday, April 1, 2012

The Man, The Sponge

Sometimes words form inside me, short and to the point.

 

The Man, The Sponge

(Ode to Sponge Bob)

 

the man was squeezed
and worship poured out
victory triumphs
the common pout

the sponge recharged
with holy essence
soaked in bath
of Godly presence

where and when for
his next squeeze?
braced for pain
but Lord is pleased

- Tony Mujica © 2012

Monday, March 19, 2012

A Life Parenthetical

A Life Parenthetical
     

My life is in parentheses.
Just like a break within the breeze.
Or whirlwind's interior, the eye of a hurricane
Is it of a madness or of the sane?

I seem to query, but really don't doubt.
Heaven has purpose, that's why this came about.
Poised at standstill, a button pressed pause
Contemplative focus, in place, the noble cause.

Parenthetical breaks away from the text.
Selah, pondering, "What does comes next?"
Training necessary, nowadays, to endure.
To avoid the fall, for remaining pure.

Pumping iron for spiritual muscle,
To say yes to Him, amidst the great tussle.
Busy, busy, in beholding, while still,
An ironic path to getting my fill.

You really don't owe me an explanation
But you wooed me by Your book-o-Revelation
A meeting place at Chapters Five and Four
You know my excitement beyond that door.

A beauty realm - such exquisite detail,
Your Glory makes all else seem pale.
Can't pledge my loyalty unto another.
To do so only means lesser lover.

But when, Great Author, will you decide
To activate my journey, end pause to my ride?
Getting back to main text is not my decision.
You see the big pic with exacting precision.

For you are the Author of this wisp of a life.
You bring resolution, sense made of my strife.
Settled not just in the role of survivor,
You penned that my life should be, rather, the thriver.

 

— Tony Mujica © 2011

Friday, March 16, 2012

Out Of Their Clutches


it was God's decision
to woo my volition
He painted His vision
with uncanny precision.

i was His choice, a subject
from life's train wreck.
at the point that
causes cracking
'cuz o' constant
demonic whacking.

delivered from
that rubber room
my witness is as
the flower in bloom
fire-dross-burning to
heart-consume
then drenched in wafts
of kingly perfume.

why am I pointing to
His anointing?
to me it's just as
clear as a bell.
He took the time
to wipe my crime
and now i'm no longer
bound for hell.

scratch your head
along with me
His ways are
way above us.
objection filed
from hell below —
i'm why there's
spiritual ruckus.

they hate the fact
that people like me
are yanked right out
of their clutches.
to top it off,
i'm cleaned and groomed
and given
the heavenly touches!

- Tony Mujica ©2011

Monday, March 12, 2012

Love For The One You Can't Have

This is an ode for those who have experienced the solitary, lonely place in God's loving presence. Those who have tasted sometimes are altered so that nothing else will do. They've tasted the highest love and cannot settle for lesser loves, but yet the desire for lateral love remains as a whisper. By God's grace, vertical love triumphs over the lateral.* The poem is also for those who have experienced deep heartbreak and rejection.

Love For The One You Can't Have

Vials and bottles on Heaven's shelf
       are filled with tears dripped by self
Collected they are, by my winged escorts
       dripped grief-drops of all sorts.
Running into position, I go again
       to the embrace of my eternal friend
              between the trusted hands of
                     the olive press.
Slow-squeezed-cranking out my duress,
       the stress of duress under an olive press
squeezes 100% pure essence - no less.

Is this a true virgin olive oil?
       To the victor goes the spoil.

I used to toot a jazz-tune called
       "Love for the one you can't have".
On my wounds
       the sounds were salve.
Audible translation of healing balms
       like straight out of the book of Psalms —
Temporary relief for life's rejection,
       a transitory shelter
              my pro tem protection.

That worldly song pointed me there
       to Otherworld
              — the Judah Lion's lair.

You see, that love for the one
       you can't have
(whether not for today
       or never to have)
drives us to God's faithful one
       Heaven's Darling,
              the only begotten Son.
Rejection, whether real or perceived
       brings reward
              when properly relieved.

Lateral love, misguided as it may be,
       can bring in close the Son who sets free.
When overturned to side, it points one up.
       Sour dregs to lemonade,
              sipped from the cup
Rejection, whether real or perceived
       reveals Godly treasure,
              when properly relieved.

— Tony Mujica © 2012
 
 
Fragrant Pressing
"Fragrant Pressing, Fragrant Blessing"
Graphite on paper
Tony Mujica © 2008

When I am squeezed what comes out of me?

 






* note: "Vertical love triumphs the lateral." This is a reference to the vertical and horizontal aspects of man.

Vertical
Built into mankind is a vertical longing. Man was created to love God. It may be expressed in negative ways, through drugs, sex, etc., but the root desire is a longing for God. The vertical (when aligned with God) goes straight to God outside creation.

Horizontal
Also built into man is horizontal longing. Man was created in relationship to a larger element, creation. Man wasn't made to be alone. Despite Cain's Genesis cry, we ARE our brother's keeper. Like John, the revelator, we are not to worship angels. They are beings created within the horizontal aspect. Worship is meant to be pointed up through the vertical, to the one who stands outside the bubble of creation. Worship directed sideways is idolatry.

The Cross
Together the two form a cross. The shorter crossbeam is sideways, parallel to the ground. It isn't rooted (without the tall centerbeam, it remains on the ground). Man's priority focus was originally on the longer beam (Longer beam, vertical = Primary emphasis, God), which is rooted in the ground and extends toward Heaven. Adam in his original state was totally reliant on God.

Emphasis on God alone is incomplete. Without the horizontal, a cross is just a lonely pillar. God enjoys us corporately, as well as individually. Our interaction with each other is part of His design.

Sunday, February 19, 2012

Running In The Spirit

Floored Again
Floored Again! Once more, He peels me off the pavement.

“He who runs in front of the car gets tired. He who runs behind gets exhausted."
∞∞∞∞∞∞∞
I saw this in my Droid's daily joke app. I thought it was funny and posted it yesterday on Facebook. I woke up in the middle of my sleep to write another thing. I saw this silly post. I wondered, "why on Earth did I post this". The question really needs rephrasing. "Why in heaven... The Lord started pouring out the following idea to me:

Tire Squeals
I stand here with tire marks on my face, from the moving car of God and His presence. I ran in front of His car (which is more like an eighteen wheeler) with confident expectation that He wants to spend time with me. Of course He does. He runs toward me with even more excitement (and speed) than I, just like a Father sees beloved son in the distance (a prodigal? I pray not). Not only that, He flattens me. I recover in a cartoon state, with flattened image of Tony on the road. He picks me up, brushes me off, revives me, and then places me in the distance for another go at it. I hear God laughing (in His "loving” way) while He revs His engine, as He moves with tire squeal. He loves these "hit and re-runs". This is His grace.
But it seems whenever I chase Him from behind, in my own strength, I just get exhausted. It's so hard to chase God. Yet even when I chase Him in my flesh, there is validity and blessing in this. In the process, I am overcome with God's exhaust. (Naturally, His exhaust is not like earthly poison.) I wind up "down-for the-count-on-the-floor" again.
He stops the truck. He laughs and says "That kid o' mine has got spunk. Let's do this again!". He gets out of the vehicle, walks back to me, picks me up, dusts me off, and whispers kind words to me. Then He either leaves me there to engage in the chase again, or He places me off in the horizon for the next round of hit and re-run.


Such is life in His presence — running, not walking, in the spirit.



∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

Note about this post: For creative license and comedic effect, I did not include the countless rides in God's vehicle — the encounters in His presence. I focused on the God chase, the romancing process.

While You're Here You Might As Well Feed The Fish
(Bring your cursor into the tank. Double click to release the bait)