New Story ~ Part 13

January 29, 2014 at 1:42 pm (Inklings from Hisimagenme) (, , , , , , , , , , )


If an authors writing doesn’t come with an invitation to be “chewed on” – “dug at” and delved more deeply into; then it hasn’t come from the right Source. “ – LRV

New Story continued…

As with all dreams they come with an awaking; seemingly startled from other dreams. One releases and another picks up almost half way through its telling.

Sakira became aware of her feet.
Walking – yes – she was walking.
Behind or before was kept from her. Only ahead could be captured and held. She knew this place from the vantage of foggy Grey. Now the world around her took a deep breath and blew the brume away. In it’s wake… color and life began to bleed and drip and invade.

And there stood a tree.
Empty but for a few reluctant leaves on its skeletal frame.
Reaching ever up up up to the Up Everlasting.
As if it could pull it straight through the airy blue.
The tops looking so flimsy; yet unafraid of their purpose.
Wrapped around it seemed a smooth skin.
Until it fell ever closer to its heart.
Then like it’s tears had fallen and hardened;
Like the liquid flesh of the blue orb; it fell closer to its deepest vulnerability.
Rivulets of hardened tears – thicker with the years – till at last on the surface – meeting where all its growth sprang from – they seemed to disappear.
Tawny browns and tans; until the more the gaze drew up to its reaching hands; the deeper the hues began to glow. Copper and burning ember but only against the vast blue of up!
Hinting at colors only the Circle of Fire can know with intimacy.
Oh, what a tree! Had it always seemed so unknown to me?
Indeed every shrub and bush in this form of death gave life a push!
Some unknown calling out from Winters press.
More beautiful naked than fully clothed somehow.
Crimsons, reds, oranges and browns fell deep into the pools of her eyes and became!
The hard surface of the earth seemed to suddenly hold itself down in a dying protection to the heart of all the life that springs from it.
Oh! The song of continual awaking that flowed beneath the surface of all things!
Only the Father-All could begin to know such notes and tones!  He must mean it!
The grass with its greenful attempts at a take-over to be released from its blond death.
Yet patient – so patient to allow the blond sleepiness to let go.
Letting go of its snowy rest – slowly the greensward of breath crept up in an inhostile take over. It seemed to beg for something to crush it – wind, rain, and feet!
All sorts of created feet! As if to say,

You can not bend me too far – or cause a crushing blow! Never too much can one thing weigh me down nor waters overflow! For if I wash away or die where I lay; I will find another place to stay. There’s nothing wasted in the heart of the Father-All and what He means – He means to stay.

All these thoughts began to make themselves an introduction to Sakira’s mind. But more than into the mechanisms of her intellect they bled into her heart. Apart from any conscious intent on her part, she began to be introduced to the Father-All. All that the Darkcloud had seemed to do in attempt to smoother found itself a hopeless failure. For something that was wants to live without Purpose will only hold on until Life finds its way in through death!
Suddenly that dreaded idea of “ending” too began to take on color and death has a hue all is own and beauty itself is but it’s sister.
It was not the morbid flippancy that Sakira had seen in others towards death – with its strange fascinations towards darkness. Instead Light overtook its scarey features and swallowed it up in one colorific swoop.
As all this awareness began to engrave itself on her heart…a butterfly, florescent blue took flight from her feet, from whence her first awareness at the beginning of this dream began. It hovered at her face for a brief moment of greeting before it alighted on an unseen breeze and rose up to its disappearance. Taking with it her last unconscious breath… and she awoke.


A good story will have such an open-ended sense to it; that the readers own imagination can “pick up” where it “leaves off” and keep reading without the help of the first writers assistance. ” – LRV

Part 14 coming soon 🙂

For those just joining this adventure; click the link below, scroll to the bottom of the pages until you get to part 1 and enjoy!

Grace and peace in Yeshua the Messiah

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A Consciousness of Work

February 5, 2013 at 2:56 am (Mile Stones) (, , , , , , , , , , )


The air was clear, clean and full of life. The wind was asleep. A consciousness of work approaching completion filled earth and air – a mood of calm expectation. There was no song of birds – only an occasional crow from the yard or the cry of a blackcock from the hill. The two streams were left to do all the singing, and they did their best, though their water was low. The day was of the evening of the year; even in the full sunshine the twilight and the coming night were present, but there was a sense of readiness on all sides. The fruits of the earth must be housed; that alone remained to be done. ~ George MacDonald from The Highlander’s Last Song. ~

I have stood in such a place and Presence that these words not only jar my recollection, but sting anew from their engraving on my soul. The disease of busyness and call of the almighty dollar had all but been extracted from my senses. Nature alone had my ears, eyes, and heart; those of the physical and of the spiritual. Ahhh, how ALIVE one becomes aware of what they ARE in moments like that. The wooing back to unattended moments – where the mind is closing in on empty and the heart full of wordless decrees spoken from an ancient language – far before the sophisticated advancement of speech. Simple in its vast resources of complexity. Narrowed down to “fit” the mind of mankind. Holy and so sacred the Word of God becomes encoded in the very air, sight, sound, and feelings that can’t help but read it.

Once the heart of the child of God has been held so tenderly by Him in this way, its hard pressed to enter back into the more “flat-plains” of going, doing, moving back onto the on-ramp of “traffic”. Slowly getting back up to speed of the crowds attempting to obey the law but finding a thousand excuses to be the exception. Giving in to the appearance of “joining in” with others in a “common” flow but really mindless of the fact that others are there. Annoyed when they remind us they are, and quick to reassert that we are the one that matters most, except where we have chosen to make an exception. We aim our mode of transportation where we think we have done the work to earn the “right”. Yet if the child of God will stop – stop long enough to look at the vast creation that speaks the Truth with every fiber of its being…humility and inexcusable truth begins to change our perspectives. How very small we become when we limit ourselves to the smallness of the world.

A consciousness of work approaching completion…fruits of the earth yet to be housed…needing to be done.

Our Father is the main Worker of these fields we occupy; and His harvest is of souls. They can not be stored up with our version of love, charity, good deeds and thoughtfulness. They can not be purchased with our blood, sweat or tears. We either enter into His conscious work approaching completion or do nothing but aid and abed its persistence in resistance. Not that anything can keep His work from completion; Yeshua (Jesus) said, “It is finished.” The last breath He took, as a man born of flesh and blood, was given to that work. The next one was in that state of Completion. Oh, that we would believe that! In every thought and deed we do! The next time you are outside, stop and look at the earth that has been given us, the sky that holds the evidence of His faithfulness to a ignorant and unfaithful children; and ask Him to show you what He means by it! Then you and I will enter in, if only for those brief moments, the Work, the Consciousness, and feel His approach in completing it within our very core! Leaving us with a sense of readiness on all sides; eager to enter in! Being “outfitted” with His love, blood, sweat, tears, good deeds, thoughtfulness, charity, and courage to harvest His fruits; to house, store, nurture and enrich them as better than “our own”.

Grace and peace in Yeshua the Messiah ❤

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To the Heights…

August 27, 2012 at 12:26 pm (Mile Stones) (, , , , , , , , )

We went camping this weekend. A thing Sam and I did at least half a dozen or more times in Montana every year. The convenience of it there in Kalispell made it both “cheap” and we had little traveling to get to a place to camp, offering amazing views of Gods creation and a strong presence of Him. Here, back in Colorado, it has been a challenge. We felt guilty going when there were so many people we desire to connect with and weekends are the best times to do so. The “cost” has been a challenge, as we have struggled financially in starting over. The habit of comparing Montana’s geography to Colorado’s for us both has been a lesson in training our wills to gratefulness for the here and now, so as not to be “robbed” of both our time there and here. We have to travel farther here to meet up with the solitude that was so easy to find in Montana. We found ourselves at Left-Hand Reservoir located at the end of a not so Acadia friendly road at about 10,500 feet in elevation. This is where we set up camp. I wonder if people know what the night sky looks like without all those city lights from a more “liveable” altitude? That alone was truly incredible and beyond compare.

We had visited this place a few weeks earlier to just “get out of town”. We decided to come back to camp for the whole weekend and explore and stay long enough for it to make a permanent impression (though it already had 🙂 ).While we had visited briefly I had said I wanted to hike up to a ridge that would allow us a peek to the peaks we could see at a distance from the lake, wanting to “get closer”. So that was the plan for Saturdays hike.


The ridge to the left was is the goal

The ridge to the left, closest in is the goal. This picture was taken on our one day trip.

Saturday the Sun came up bright in a clear sky, windy but gorgeous. The ridge called us. We set out. Taking a back pack with some snacks and water, our 45 Ruger (for unexpected protection), and jackets. We did not use the gun :-). There was nothing we needed protection from. The path around the lake starts out hugging it and we felt excited to go and see a new perspective of our little world. As we got closer to the west side it became marshy and swampy. Thus we began our slow accent up and onward west. Stopping to enjoy the various flora and fauna, and taking in every second of each place our feet had never set before. We barely noticed the “climb” during that first hour. It was unhurried and our eyes worked out more it seemed than our bodies. The mushrooms alone up there are mind boggling and various and abundant! The ground was moist with evidence of a much wetter season than we have seen only 5,000 feet below. We counted deer, elk, bear, moose and rabbit dung, they themselves eluded us :-(. We did stop a few times to “catch our breath” yet at this time it was due mostly to the sights and unfamiliar altitude. Breathing at 10,000 feet is a different thing and we were pushing 11,000 by noon. The trees began to get denser and smaller. Bending down to dodge limbs and climbing was the name of the game for the next hour. It was about now that it became obvious that we do very little to prepare our bodies for such adventures. We began to ache…alot. Ankles squeaked, and Sam’s back whined. I finally talked him into allowing me to carry the back pack. (This is a strong indication to those who don’t know him, he is in the kind of pain that would send most rational people back down rather than further up)
We stopped to “assess” as we came to about 100 feet above tree line. Our goal was another 900 feet both up and northwest. The top of this ridge is all softball to beachball sized rocks and larger, with years of low lying vegetation grown over it here and there. Ankle twisting going to say the least. The effort to move fatigued limbs and breathe the 11,000 foot air took us another hour only climbing to the height of 11,450 feet. We had to say “uncle”. We had a 3 hour hike back and gravity is no friend to weakened legs and aching backs. To allow IT to carry us back to camp would have been dangerous. Going up allows for more “control” than down, one slip and it would break a leg.

We sat down for lunch and to take in the view, which was well worth our efforts! We watched 6 or so Red-tailed hawks hunt for their lunch for 40 minutes. Swooping down then riding the currents. It was a quietly intimate rest, there, well within God’s sight, sitting with each other, catching our breath only to have it taken away again by a new sight or vista or perspective. Words were few and unneeded. Did you know that high altitudes lessen the ability to taste food or drink? Its true, you can taste, but it is “muted” is the best way to describe it. An odd observance we noted. Even at camp this was true. The birds were the wildlife extravaganza this trip. Stellar Jays, hawks, Camp-robbers, and a 100 more. They were indescribably abundant and beautiful in their daily routine and beauty. We both gained a new appreciation for when Jesus spoke about the sparrow, how God clothes and cares for them, how much more us! Getting out into nature fairly shouts Gods Word in living color. We sat at His feet, weak, sore, and at attention. Knowing we still had a ways to go, but strangely unnerved because He just reminded us that our way was prepared and His strength alone would now get us back to camp. So, knowing the Sunset was fast approaching we reluctantly head back. Staying up above the tree line we skirt back with the intention of a slow and steady descent bringing us right to our camp rather than back the way we came.
There was some but much less awe in the world surrounding us as we made that slow and very painful trek down. I started thinking of every verse that speaks of God leveling our path, strengthening our limbs, giving hinds feet on high places. My beloved was hurting awful, as was I. Our physical prowress gave up the ghost on the way up. We have NO doubt God got us down, and right into our camp exactly…words just can’t describe that trek down. Some may say we were fools for such adventuring without “training”. They forget the training is the doing. We were meant to do it exactly as we did. Abba called us up and He brought us down, safe and sore but with a new understanding of His ways. A greater appreciation for WHO it is that really does anything and gets anything done. Not us, Him. Oh what a wonderful weekend we had!

I am sharing this now. Exhaustion lines and defines my every movement (Sam’s too). Yet I wouldn’t trade a pain or ache. I pray every impression and texture of our time will cement itself upon my heart. Back to the “grind” as we say, but with renewed perspective and joy even about that!

GREAT is God’s faithfulness, Lord unto thee!

Grace and peace in Yeshua the Messiah ❤

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