“Suddenly there was such a violent earthquake that the foundations of the prison were shaken. At once all the prison doors flew open, and everyone’s chains came loose.” Acts 16:26

One of the repeated themes bouncing around the Christian airwaves during the present crisis is that of Haggai 2:6, “Yet once more, in a little while, I will shake the heavens and the earth and the sea and the dry land.”[1] I am certain that without exception we are all experiencing the viral earthquake that is shaking our worlds on so many different levels. Continents, nations, cities, towns, communities, marriages, individuals, even children are all being shaken. For some of us the consequences and ramifications are deeply upsetting and far-reaching, and it presents to us a unique opportunity to stand together as a family. But not all earthquakes are our enemies, some are our friends, as was the earthquake that opened the prison doors and loosened the chains binding Paul and Silas.

Just three short weeks ago we were in the midst of the Nepal A School in Kathmandu, a city devastated by multiple earthquakes five years ago. Roaming the streets during our visit we had to work quite hard to spot any remaining signs of the destruction the earthquake inflicted. Almost all the damaged structures had either been shored up and restored, or pulled down and rebuilt. Whether they had been rebuilt to withstand future earthquakes remains to be seen.

When our buildings begin to crumble our tendency is also to shore up, restore or rebuild, and in doing so we miss God-given opportunity to step out of the limitations of our self- and enter into greater life and freedom. It is in times such as this current crisis that our hearts are laid bare. It is not just the leaning walls that collapse but the very foundations upon which we have built our lives and sense of security begin to fail and crumble.

I can recognise in my own life that so much of what I do and build is still a reflection of the orphan boy who lives deep within. If I step back for a moment and look into my own heart I can see so many areas that remain untouched by love, where I still don’t believe that I have a Father who cares deeply for me and who delights to provide for me. Like a scratched record helplessly repeating the same lyric over and over, I’m stuck in DIY mode repeatedly trying to do everything for myself. If there’s nobody there for me then I have to take care of myself, provide for myself and forge my own future and destiny. Even then, when I step back to admire the tower of self-security and provision that I have built, how quickly it starts to totter when the earth beneath my feet begins to shake.

When Nia and I are home, one of my regular habits is a walk through some of the private estates near where we live. As a former builder myself I love to watch the new houses go up and my very favourite house is the mock Tudor house pictured below, the dream house that will likely always remain in the dream realm.

The house that I build for myself can appear very fancy. Its bricks might be finances, health, fitness, relationships, marriage, family, reputation, or even my devout religious practice; but in truth what I build can easily become more prison than palace. Adam’s primary sin-action in Eden was to step away from the child-like beauty of vulnerable trust, choosing instead to forge his own independent and self-reliant pathway. Together they chose to move from the full provision of Perfect Love to eke-ing from the ground their own token existence.

In this modern era we’ve become eke-ing connoisseurs, the palatial dimensions of Perfect Love are such a distant memory that we easily trade it in for a grass hut. We’ve become experts in camouflage and denial, bestowing grand titles upon our eke-ing such as Democratic Capitalism or Materialistic Consumerism. It all looks and sounds so grand and reliable until the ground begins to shake.

Not all earthquakes are our enemies, they can instead be deep wells of opportunity. At the deepest level these rumblings not only reveal the illegitimate sanctuaries in which we have invested our trust, but the shallowness of our false names and titles with which we have clothed ourselves. In these moments we begin to come to the alarming conclusion that we actually have no idea who we really are, and our exposed falsehood fearfully begs for us to shore-up, restore and rebuild before anyone notices our terrifying nakedness. We have been pretending for so long that we too have begun to believe that the illusion is real, only to discover that we’ve been hiding among the trees taking sewing lessons.[2]

To embrace our nakedness is the beginning of embracing truth, allowing Perfect Love to embrace us. What if we were to run towards the earthquake instead of running away? What if the journey towards wholeness is primarily about stripping away that which is not so that our true eternal selves can be unveiled from within? If this is right, then a bit of shaking will only serve to accelerate the process.

The apostle Peter experienced a profound shaking of his bravado, even as he asserted his commitment and courage to face prison or death;

“Simon, Simon, behold, Satan demanded to have you, that he might sift you like wheat, ³² but I have prayed for you that your faith may not fail. And when you have turned again, strengthen your brothers.” ³³ Peter said to him, “Lord, I am ready to go with you both to prison and to death.” ³⁴ Jesus said, “I tell you, Peter, the rooster will not crow this day, until you deny three times that you know me.”[3]

Not even thirty verses later we read;

Peter said, “Man, I do not know what you are talking about.” And immediately, while he was still speaking, the rooster crowed. ⁶¹ And the Lord turned and looked at Peter. And Peter remembered the saying of the Lord, how he had said to him, “Before the rooster crows today, you will deny me three times.” ⁶² And he went out and wept bitterly.[4]

The nature of Jesus’ gaze is not outlined for us in the text, but we can be certain that it was not dissimilar to when he gazed with compassion upon the rich young ruler; “Jesus looked at him and loved him.”[5] Perhaps our greatest fear is that our naked insufficiency will evoke his anger or disdain, when the truth is that Perfect Love longs for nothing less than to fully embrace the scared little boy that dwells within me.

Are we willing in this time to have not just our walls but our very foundations shaken? The size and depth of any foundation will ultimately define the dimension and load bearing capacity of the columns and walls it will support. The foundations of my mock Tudor mansion could easily resemble the foundation portrayed below;

Once again, my palace becomes a prison, its dimensions limited to the size and shape of my established foundation. In Ephesians Paul speaks of our True Foundation, that which has existed since before the foundation of creation, that we would be ‘rooted and grounded’ in Perfect Love, a Love whose dimensions ‘surpass knowledge’ beyond ‘breadth, length, height and depth,’ a foundation that provides for us to be ‘filled with all of the fullness of God.’

If Adam’s primary sin-action in Eden was to step away from the beauty of child-like vulnerable trust, to forge his own independent and self-reliant pathway, then to repent is as simple as a U-turn. As the ground shakes and our self-established foundations begin to crumble, we can step naked towards the embrace of Perfect Love, all in the child-like beauty of vulnerable trust. The prison doors are falling open and the chains are coming loose. It’s time for scared little boys and girls to find their True Home. As we take a few moments to look, to ponder and to reflect, we see that not all earthquakes are our enemies, instead they provide for us open doors of opportunity for great life, love and freedom… #beautyforashes

[1] Cf. Hebrews 12:26

[2] Geneses 3:7-8

[3] Luke 22:31-34 ESV

[4] Luke 22:60-62 ESV

[5] Mark 10:21 NIV

Towards the end of 2019 we had the privilege of spending three months as students on the Inheriting the Nations School on Great Barrier Island in New Zealand. The school’s location is idyllic, an island paradise that combines relative isolation with natural beauty; crystal clear seawater, wild dolphins, sea lions, orcas, penguins, other rare birdlife and of course New Zealand’s unique subtropical flora and fauna. The school itself was well executed with rich content, a wonderfully diverse student body, gifted speakers and mature leadership. Whilst the ingredients and facets of the school are basically the same for each person attending, Father meets and works in person’s heart in an utterly unique tailor-made fashion. It’s as though each of the 60+ students is attending a different school with unique experiences and outcomes. So how was it for us?

Nia

The past couple of years Father has been helping me to know and experience Him as my real Father. Only He is able to do that as growing up without a father I have no idea what was like to be fathered. During the Inheriting the Nations School, He helped me to see how independent I had been since a young age. I would see my widowed mother struggling to provide for me and my three siblings and I was determined not to become a burden or even to ask for anything unnecessary if I could look after it myself.

During the first month of the school on Great Barrier Island, Father asked me if I would let Him look after me. As you can guess I said ‘Of course!’ but then in my heart I had no idea what He really meant or what that would look like. Just a few days ago I started to journal and reflect on what happened during the school and suddenly His request made sense. I could see as I was reflecting that Father wanted to work through the school family to help me experience Him looking after me. There were so many different expressions of His love and care; someone making me coffee during most of the morning breaks, yummy lunches cooked with others during the weekends, company for swimming, walking and the list will goes on. Even on the ferry back to Auckland, someone said to me with a big smile ‘well Nia, it looks like things are coming easily to you’ and with that she handed me a magnum ice cream and a bottle of ginger beer!

At one point I ‘felt bad’ and began to think that perhaps I should buy and make my own coffee, fearing that once again I would be a burden and shouldn’t be dependent on others. Then I felt Father saying, ‘Nia, a little girl does not think that way, does she?’ I am touched and humbled by the love and kindness of His heart through those around me during our time in New Zealand. I have started to believe that I have a place in my Father’s heart – how special and loved we all are!!

Richard

Had I known in advance what these three months would entail then there’s at least a chance that I would never have wanted to go in the first place!

Over the last month I have reflected upon our time at the school and still don’t fully understand all the whys and wherefores of my personal struggles. Father has revealed to me how uncomfortable I continue to be in my own skin and with my own heart. Often, we have become so familiar with our coping mechanisms that we are practically blind to them – the abnormal and unhealthy has been normalised and justified. In my own life these defence mechanisms separate neatly into three categories; 1. Self-medication by means of an armoury of false comforts, 2. Distraction through the noise of social media, entertainment and general busyness, 3. Wallpapering over the holes and cracks in my self-worth, concealing unpalatable brokenness behind the camouflage of productivity, success and general got-it-togetherness. Each one of these three stand in apparent harmony with the other two. They function in twisted interdependence, passing among themselves the baton of responsibility for coping, surviving or building the ego. They defer to one another according to what is most needed at any particular moment in time.

Great Barrier Island’s geographical isolation means that it leans naturally towards silence, contemplation and reflection, it’s a place where a person cannot help but be confronted with themselves. Prior to this season I had never realized how addicted I was to noise and busyness; anything to avoid the silence, anything to avoid having to be stilled and quieted, anything to silence the nagging realisation of my own discomfort with myself. Overall, when I reflect on the three months my predominant feeling is still one of it having been a negative experience, albeit with many amazing highlights, but it has been sobering to recognise that what I thought was distaste for the school is actually distaste for my own company!

How did this all come about? Well you know those prayers that you pray when everything is sunshine and roses: “Father whatever it takes, however painful, whatever the cost…”? Well it turns out that He’s listening, carefully storing that request in his back pocket until the right time and place. For me Great Barrier Island was that time and place, and the process that began there continues to unfold. Perhaps what I’m describing sounds overly dramatic, depressingly negative or unhealthily self-absorbed? Allow me to allay those fears. Father has, and continues to be, simultaneously outstandingly gracious, beautifully wise and uncompromisingly firm. He continually draws me towards His embrace. It might be raw, painful and vulnerable but it’s real and in due course I know that it will also be liberating.

What I am realising is that the world in which I have functioned has been narcissistically miniscule. When our focus has been on building our own ego in a vain search for self-worth and identity, we live in a microscopic world that is only a speck when compared with true reality. There is an infinitely greater and supremely transcendent reality when we begin to explore our existence in God. Then our world, and indeed our hearts expand to be as big as He is.

Recently I heard the following: “We can spend our whole lives climbing the ladder of perceived success only to arrive at the top and discover that the ladder is leaning against the wrong wall and that there’s nothing there.” When we find ourselves in these circumstances there is only one choice, to abandon our cause, embrace our bankruptcy and fall limply into the arms of the One who can carry us into a completely different expression of perceiving and living.

As Father gently exposes the extent and distastefulness of my ministerial, positional and relational ladder-climbing, its unpleasantness serves to highlight how intolerable it would be to remain forever deluded in such a hungry wilderness. Experiencing the loss of shallow illusion is the doorway into the real. In Luke 15 there are three parables of loss; the lost sheep, the lost coin and the lost sons. In each case something which is possessed needs to be lost and then regained before it’s true value is realised and owned. The joy of the shepherd over finding the one sheep that was lost is exponentially greater than the sum of his joy for the ninety-nine that have been continually in his possession. It’s the mysterious paradox of loss precipitating gain, of death being the only avenue to true life. There is no doubt in my mind that this is a significant season of spiritual death, a valley of loss, a valley of letting go of the illusion of significance, of the false self, of the ego.

The false self does not draw breath in the space between me and God (who knows truth and lie completely), but in the space between me and other people. I nurture and establish my ego there, I put my faith in him there and then I project him onto my relationship with God. For surely if people love me in this realm, if people admire me here, then I can accept that God loves and admires me also. But God does not love me because I am good. Indeed even if a man hates his brother he’s a murderer in his heart, and likewise lust precipitates adultery. God doesn’t love me because I’m good, He loves me because He is good!

It’s time for all of my success and failure to lie down in the grave together. For Richard the Fatherheart Speaker and Revelator to meet Richard the Murderous Adulterer. It’s time for the Pharisee to meet the Tax Collector, for Dr Jackel to meet Mr Hyde, for the Older Brother to be introduced to the younger. It’s time for them to be embraced by divine death, for them to be buried together in a grave marked: ‘Here lies Richard who tried to be Everybody and was ultimately Nobody.’ It’s time to allow Father to lay me gently in the tomb of my illusionary existence, so that in due time He might call forth Richard His authentic child. In his book Abba’s Child, Brennan Manning notes that only our genuine inner self is the place of our experiential love relationship with our Abba, that our authentic inner child ‘is the doorway into the depths of union with God.’ My heart’s desire is to live here in the large open spaces of His reality… but only He can carry me to this place.

And finally…

As the sun sets on the 2019 Inheriting the Nations School the new dawn heralds the beginning of a new era. As we adventure on in 2020, for us all His promise is; “Fear no evil for I am with you. My rod and staff comfort you.”

Reading Hebrews 11 aloud is impacting. Faith’s ‘Hall of Fame’ highlights significant spiritual heroes and their achievements. Yet first and foremost it impacts because absolutely everything that is achieved in the Kingdom of God is attained by faith and by faith alone. This is also our experience; by faith we trust in Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of sins, by faith we receive the baptism of the Spirit, by faith we receive the love of the Father, by faith and by faith alone. Abraham features heavily in the Hall of Fame. He’s credited for believing God for a promised land, for his son Isaac and for figuratively receiving said son back from the grave. Genesis & Romans highlight him as the ‘Father of our Faith’, the pioneer of righteousness by faith alone.

When we read that ‘without faith it’s impossible to please God’, it could be construed to communicate a need to perform to gain God’s approval. But there is actually a much deeper and more beautiful truth. Every human father, indeed every expression of mothering and fathering, ultimately find their origin in our Eternal Father. By comparison, fathers such as Abraham and his compatriots are mere types or shadows, temporal reflections of his eternal nature – the One who is the primordial ‘Father of our Faith’. Indeed everything our heavenly Father does is by faith – it’s his nature and reality. Sending his Son was an act of faith and even creation was formed by faith at his command, ‘so that what is seen was not made out of what was visible’; because faith is ‘the evidence of things unseen.’ He’s not asking us do do anything which he has not first done himself, and the deeper and more beautiful truth is his desire that we would join him in his adventure of faith.

On one level we can speak of Abraham’s journey of faith from the land of Haran to Canaan, but our Eternal Father is on an incredible journey of faith right into our very hearts. Indeed to reciprocate is the greatest adventure of all – not a missions adventure to Timbuktu or even raising the dead, but an everlasting pilgrimage of faith into the very heart, life and love of God. To live by faith is ultimately to embrace an invitation to plumb the depths of his nature and reality.

When I taught our two daughters to drive in Malaysia I would sit in the passenger seat with one hand hovering above the handbrake, the other hand pinned to my side but ready to grab the steering wheel and my feet occasionally jabbing the non-existent pedals on the floor in front on me. What caused me to do this? Fear. To allow the substance of faith to dwell in our hearts is to yield to Perfect Love, a Love that uproots and displaces fear, sowing mountain-moving seeds of faith in its place. Perfect Love allows us to see who Father really is – that everything in his faith-filled heart towards us is not just good but the very, very highest. Faith releases us from the confines of our own resources and ability, providing access to his unlimited love, life, resources and capacity. Faith allows him to be in the driving seat and us to relinquish control, sit back, relax and enjoy his unfolding adventure.

For much of my Christian journey my focus was on having faith for different goals, people, events or financial targets. Particularly in the early years a lot of my prayer life focused on faith for imminent financial needs. With the benefit of hindsight I can see that in my heart I couldn’t accept that I had a Father who loved me, one who delights to provide for me. In my blindness I could only envisage a God who was at best reticent to provide, someone who needed to be convinced of my worth through my faith and service.

His Love changed all of this. What I have come to see is that it is not ‘faith for’ but ‘faith in’. It’s not faith for something but faith in someOne so much bigger than ourselves. In February last year I woke in the early hours of the morning to discover that we owed the Malaysian Government an additional £20,000 in capital gains tax from the sale of our house, money that we had no means of paying. The letter also indicated that for every 30 days that this debt remained outstanding we would owe an additional 10%. In the past this would have sent me into a frantic tailspin – I would probably have woken Nia up and begun extended prayer and fasting, wracking my brain for a solution to the crisis. But his unveiled Love has changed all that. This time my immediate reaction was to laugh and say to Papa: ‘Well I can’t wait to see how you are going solve this one!’ Then I turned over and went straight back to sleep. This might appear like taking him for granted, but it’s actually the difference between having ‘faith for’ something and having ‘faith in’ a Loving Father. ‘Faith for’ so often involves the exercise of fervent ‘spiritual’ discipline, ‘faith in’ flows from a place of rest – in this case a good night’s sleep tucked into Father’s bosom. Over the course of the next few days Father provided a way for us to make that impossible payment, but He didn’t stop there, because four weeks later he arranged for the Malaysian Government to refund most of it back to us despite our solicitor insisting that that was impossible! Exactly!

As faith is integral to Father’s reality, his desire is that that same faith will live and flourish in us. Paul wrote to his ‘son’ Timothy of his conviction that the same depth of faith that was manifest in Timothy’s mother and grandmother now also lived in Timothy. Faith is alive and vibrant. Jesus demonstrates for us the active faith-filled heart of a Son. His journey of active faith from equality with God, to helpless babe in Bethlehem, to misunderstood Messiah, to gruesome crucifixion and three days in the depths of hell is an amazing display of ‘faith in’ not ‘faith for.’ When Pontius Pilate asserted that Jesus’ life or death were in his hands, Jesus rebuked him with the words, ‘you would have no power over me lest it be given to you from above.’ His faith in Father was rock-solid, concrete. Jesus had no capacity to raise himself from the pit of hell, instead he trusted himself fully into the hands of ‘the One who could save him from death’, one who then highly exalted him into the place of greatest intimacy. In this Jesus is the author and perfecter of our faith, revealing the radical extent to which we can fully embrace the purposes and heart of the Father of our Faith, adventuring with him and allowing faith to live and grow within.

The two most significant transitions we experience during our lives are birth and death. The former brings us from the womb into the world, the latter from the world into the fullness of our eternal reality. These two events help clarify for us the true nature of every other transition we are likely to face. Why is this important? Increasingly as Nia and I travel and meet different folks across the nations, we hear people expressing that they are in the midst of transition. For some it seems a constant companion. Why is this and what does transition entail? I’d like to share a few random thoughts with you from our journey by referencing the story of the storm on lake Galilee (It would be best to read Mark 4:35-41 before continuing).

Allow what follows to wash over you and speak into your current external and internal circumstances…

³⁵ “On that day, when evening had come, he said to them: ‘Let us go across to the other side.’”  Transition begins as the sun sets on the present day, signalling that it’s time to depart and cross over to new shores: “Winds in the east, mist coming in, like somethin’ is brewin’ and bout to begin, can’t put me finger on what lies in store…” [Bert, in Mary Poppins]. To depart is to do so by faith, to empty one’s hand of what is, without yet seeing what will be. Nevertheless there is promise; for surely as the sun sets on one day it will also surely rise on the next. But to arrive at a new destination you first have to be willing to depart.

^36a “And leaving the crowd they took him with them in the boat.” When the winds of change begin to blow the journey is often internal and largely inexpressible. Change is easily misunderstood and frequently unpopular, and thus can bring with it a sense of isolation. We might even be in the midst of a highly fruitful season, in a place we love and cherish, where logic entreats us to remain and continue, but evening has come and it’s time to leave and cross over. To remain is to plateau and ultimately to diminish.

^36b “Just as he was.” When you emerge from the womb the former source of life and nutrition is now of no use; the placenta and its cord shrivel, die and fall away. To survive is to engage your mouth, stomach, intestine and lungs. When we pass from this life to the eternal we go naked, even our physical expression is shed for the promise of a new supernatural existence. The caterpillar’s many legs are of no benefit to the butterfly, they were only useful in the former more limited existence. It’s time for the horizons to expand.

^37a “And a great windstorm arose.” When we have been comfortable where we are it can take a storm to dislodge us from our preoccupation with our present agreeable existence. A storm might come in the form of financial crisis, conflict, redundancy, illness or even failure. We can easily misunderstand it; blaming others, ourselves, the devil or sin, when in fact God is leveraging our circumstances to unseat us from the comfortable and familiar so that He can move us into the new day. Giving birth is a battle for both mother and child, but the outcome is whole new depths of love, reality and adventure. The storm takes us from the narrow to the broad, from the confines of the womb to fresh wide open spaces of possibility and adventure. Divine chaos is a most favourable environment for divine creativity and revelation.

^37b “The waves were breaking into the boat.” As the old comes to an end and falls away, our attachment to it can leave us feeling like we are drowning, like death. On October 9th 2017 I was faced with the very real possibility that I might be dying. Being confronted with the finality of death brought with it a spontaneous outpouring of grief for Nia and I; the grief of dreams unfulfilled, the grief of not walking my daughters down the isle, the grief of not be a part of the lives of my grandchildren, the grief of not growing old together. Even though death for a Believer is the ultimate baptism, passing from this limited reality into the fulness of our Father’s loving embrace, there still remains an important place for grieving and for comfort. For to grieve is to fully relinquish.

^38b “Do you not care?” Out on the lake in the storm both our place of departure and our destination are out of sight. We find ourselves caught in the no-man’s land between the old and the new. The sunrise eludes us, instead darkness surrounds and disorientates. It is in this often lonely and even painful place of disorientation where we can find ourselves asking “God where are you? Do you not care?” The valley of the shadow of death brings with it the ‘perception’ of abandonment, yet the heart found by Love will not fear as even without seeing it knows: Thou art with me… 

^38a “Asleep on the cushion.” Rest is first and foremost an internal reality – it’s the heart that has been found by Love. Generally we try to maintain a peaceful existence by controlling and orchestrating our outward circumstances: our misguided foundational belief is that peace outside = peace inside. In contrast to this outward approach, sons lean inwardly into the bosom of the One who is Love and enter His rest regardless of outward circumstances. From this place the storm rages on yet seemingly ceases to exist. Those areas of our hearts awake to His reality naturally rebuke the storm and reign over it.

^39a “The wind ceased and there was a Great Calm.” Our Creator reigns over His creation, and that includes his Divine creativity within our hearts. As He baptises our hearts into Love they are raised in Great Calm. Here Trust and Faith naturally abide regardless of circumstance, negating the need for what, why, when, where and how.

⁴¹ “Awe… Who then is this?”  Divine Wisdom comes with the benefit of hindsight. When we are in the midst of major transition we can be overwhelmed, even blinded, by our circumstances. We don’t fully understand the journey until we arrive at the destination and look back and Behold – then we see Wisdom! His heart is unveiled to ours and our eyes are opened to plumb the deeper wells of His Nature. Even the foolishness of God is wiser than man’s wisdom and the weakness of God greater than man’s strength: Awe & Wonder.

As our hearts progressively discover the Love of God we find ourselves entering into an unfolding windstorm. The winds may be gentle at first, but then we are caught up in their growing momentum. All that is familiar to us, that which we are skilled at and which has given us a sense of control and security, is challenged and stripped away. It was only the illusion of control anyway! Love can never be boxed or confined, it continually expands far beyond our horizons. Love is wild horses, appearing tamed for a moment, only to break free and demolish the barriers that have limited or confined. The Love of God is always unconstrained and immune from limitation, entreating imminent and repeated surrenders. Love is always transitory – not passing or diminishing, though it may pause for a moment – but encompassing, advancing and expanding.

Different kinds of Christian events attract different personalities and something as simple as the title of an event can make a huge difference in terms of who will be motivated to participate. Incorporating the word ‘Prophetic’ into the title is one effective way to draw a sell-out crowd. Why is it that as believers we are captivated by the prophetic? Probably all of us have attended events where prophetic words are being delivered. We can easily find ourselves quietly engaging our mind control ray to ‘will’ the prophet to call out our name, to point in our direction, to look us in the eye and give us that treasured ‘word’. Why is it that the prophetic is so captivating? Are we simply obsessed with the future or is it something deeper that draws us?

Personal words of prophecy can certainly have a powerful impact. In late 2009 I was just beginning to emerge from a very difficult season in my life. It seemed like everything had imploded and the future looked incredibly bleak in terms of our ministry role and expression. At that time I was given a predictive prophetic word that was a great source of encouragement to me in the midst of a very dark valley. I still go back and listen to it from time to time, recognising that much of it has already come to pass but that there are other aspects still to be fulfilled. If you’re interested you can listen to it here (remember that at the time I was emerging from great brokenness and disillusionment). Prophetic words of this kind supernaturally strengthen, encourage and comfort us (1 Cor 14:3). But is there more to the prophetic than this? Is there a deeper life-giving flow? What core part of me is being ministered to that hungers for words like these?

Many years ago I heard a message entitled ‘Prophetic Evangelism and the Father Heart of God.’ At the time it seemed like a tall order to cover these two topics in just 45 minutes, but what the speaker unveiled was that they weren’t two topics but one. Contemporary examples were given of God revealing dramatically accurate words of knowledge and prophecy for different individuals; laying bare their past, their present and their future. I think that without exception all of us love to receive words like these, not just so we can be inspired towards our future BUT because it unveils God’s heart towards us personally — He really knows me! He really understands me! He is with me in my circumstances! He believes in me! He LOVES me! God’s heart towards us is unveiled, indeed He Himself is seen. The prophetic unveils to our hearts the very heart and person of God Himself.

This begs another important question: If the prophetic powerfully unveils the very heart of God to our hearts, what is the highest expression of the prophetic? If personal prophecy is the micro expression, what is the macro expression? The opening salvo of the Book of Hebrews answers this question simply and categorically:

“In the past God spoke to our forefathers through the prophets at many times and in various ways, but in these last days he has spoken to us by his Son… the Son is the radiance of God’s glory and the exact representation of his being…”

Every prophetic expression that came prior to the Son is merely a foreshadowing, an incomplete expression that is surpassed and made complete by the exact representation – Jesus, the Living Word of God. Of course there are numerous examples of Jesus delivering personal and even corporate words of prophecy in the pages of the Gospels, but Jesus’ prophetic expression is much more than these – He continually unveils the very heart and person of the Father through every word, phrase, tone, action, miracle, touch, facial expression… indeed all of the time and through every single thing he says and does; ‘Whatever the Father does the son does also… for I did not speak of my own accord, but the Father who sent me commanded me what to say and how to say it… The one who looks at me is seeing the one who sent me…  Anyone who has seen me has seen the Father!’ Jesus’ heart is in complete love-union with the heart of His Father.

This brings clear understanding of another well quoted Scripture in the book of Revelation:

‘The testimony of Jesus is the spirit of prophecy!’ (19:10 ESV)

Jesus is not just a prophet He is The Prophet. His perfect and tireless testimony during His life and ministry on earth was all about one person: His Father. Jesus, the one who is the pinnacle and perfect expression of the prophetic, unveils and pours into our hearts the very heart of the Eternal Father. He does so through every aspect of His being, through His every word and through His every action. Personal words of prophecy are just the starting place. The highest and most complete expression of the prophetic is this: The Eternal Father made manifest through the entire life of the Eternal Son. Sonship.

We can be captivated with the prophetic at every level without really knowing why… Why? Because the prophetic unveils the deepest longing of our hearts, it always leads our hearts home to the heart of our loving Eternal Father. The more our hearts come into love-union with His, the more we are conformed to His love by His love, the more we journey together with Him in sonship, the more His person and nature will be made manifest in us and through us to a thirsty world.

Let’s start with the bad news — I’ve come to a sobering conclusion:

“I’m addicted to control! I’m an expert manipulator!” Alcoholics Anonymous (AA) requires recovering addicts to corporately confess their addiction by stating, “We admit we are powerless over alcohol—that our lives have become unmanageable.” Now for my confession: “I admit that I am powerless to overcome my addiction to control and manipulation.” Confession can be ugly!  Yet to admit and embrace who we are is to carry our brokenness into the healing presence of a Loving Father.

Last month I was riding in a car with my dear friends Dass Supperamaniam and Jason Eheler in Winnipeg, Canada. After a number of weeks in North America Dass was longing for some good spicy Indian food; so when Jason commented that time was too limited for a visit to the Indian restaurant Dass playfully pretended to have a tantrum in the back of the car, crying like a baby and stamping his feet. My jovial comment to Jason was, “Do you ever feel like you’re being manipulated…?” Jason cracked a broad smile and responded, “I’ve got four kids—all the time!”[1]

This was a “lights-on moment” for me. From the cradle to the grave we are subtly yet consistently endeavouring to orchestrate the environment and people around us to fit into the grand scheme of what we believe to be best, often but not exclusively with selfish intent. I realise that I do it all the time! It’s become second nature, indeed so familiar that I’m not even aware that I’m doing it! I want to control how I feel, my health, my today, my tomorrow, my next year and next decade, my financial wellbeing, my wife, my kids, my friends, my associates, indeed all the people I interact with, that they would agree with my perception of what is best. I don’t delegate because I’m convinced I can do it better. Please don’t be offended, I even do it in my relationship with God — if He’d only come to His senses, then He would agree with me too!

The core issue is this: All orphan-heartedness is about trying to control the world around and within us, because we don’t trust Father. We don’t trust Him to care of us or to have our very best in mind. So I need to take control, I need to take things into my own hands and make them happen because if I’m honest I don’t really believe that Father wants to or will take care of me.

It’s a problem that predates the Garden of Eden. In the Garden the man and the woman believed the serpent’s lie that God was holding out on them, ultimately trying to take control of their own destiny. To become like God was to become God unto themselves, because they believed He wasn’t there for them. But our addiction to control is even more ancient than the Garden, finding its roots in the heart of the liar, the heart of Lucifer, “I will ascend to heaven above the stars of God; I will set my throne on high; I will sit on the mount of assembly in the far reaches of the north; I will ascend above the heights of the clouds; I will make myself like the Most High’ Isaiah 14:12f. I told you confession was ugly! But to find the road to freedom is to confess and embrace the reality that our addiction to control and manipulation is rooted in the brokenness of the garden and the warped heart of Lucifer. Only then are we able to bring ourselves and our addiction into the healing presence of a Loving Saviour and a Loving Father.

To encourage you along the path — control is largely illusion anyway. The Illusion of Control is the overriding theme of one of my favourite movies: Instinct, with Sir Anthony Hopkins and Cuba Golding Junior. To be suddenly aware of how little control we actually have can be a rude awakening; losing control of one’s faculties through old-age or illness, losing a loved one as the innocent victim of a car crash, losing all that you own and have worked for due to another’s criminal activity. Ultimately all of us will die, the definitive loss of control. Whatever control we think that we have is temporary, much more limited than we imagine and finally fiction. All of our efforts are similar to a deaf and blind Air Traffic Controller trying to coordinate the crowded air space above London’s Heathrow Airport — futility.

So what about the good news…? The good news is not just good it’s awesome — You don’t have to do it! You don’t have to play the control and manipulation game! You can opt out because there’s a much better way and it’s life-giving instead of life-draining! Total assurance and security are fully available, but are achieved not by taking but by relinquishing control. Freedom is trusting our care and destiny into the hands of One utterly loving and all knowing, conceding control in favour of surrender. Paradoxically, to lose is to win.

It’s not ‘blind’ faith. No-one in their right mind would trust their life to a complete stranger. Father desires to unfold the substance of His love and life within us to such depth and reality that the eyes and ears of our hearts would “see” with crystal clear 20-20 clarity His true nature and concrete reliability. His love transcends merely knowing, it releases increasingly concrete revelational conviction. Control is by nature exhausting because we were created for a place of transcendent rest, a place of unearthly trust which rises far above the everyday furore, fully available to every one of us if we will cede control and dive into the arms of a Loving Father.

Having confessed addiction, the second and third steps of AA’s 12-step program state; “2. We believe that a Power greater than ourselves can restore us to sanity. 3. We make a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God as we understand Him.”  If we will let go of our insane illusion of control and turn to Him there is a place of unearthly trust and rest available in the Father’s love that takes us beyond the cognitive, the logical and even the experiential — Against all hope, Abraham in hope believed. This is a place where we simply know that we know that we know that He is completely trustworthy, completely loving, and that He always has our best in mind, regardless of outward circumstances. Perhaps best of all, He’ll meet us as we understand Him today and then take us into tomorrow.

If you too can confess your addiction then there’s no condemnation. The key is not denial, on the contrary it’s to admit your own powerlessness to change and to embrace who you are, bringing you and your brokenness into the healing presence of a Loving Father through a Loving Saviour — He already knows exactly who we are and is longing to graciously express His compassion, to impart His life and freedom. Sit back, relax, enjoy the journey, let Him love your hands off the steering wheel and enter into His rest.

[1] Used with permission from Dass & Jason

Have we corrupted the Gospel by changing it from radical Good News into emasculated Good Advice? [1] If he were alive on the earth today, would the apostle Paul be penning you and I a letter with the explicit intent of shocking us back into Freedom?

As Jesus bears his heart to Father in Gethsemane (Jn 17), He makes three outstanding requests for us that are irrevocably interconnected; 1. ‘That we may have the full measure of His joy within us’ (Wow!) 2. ‘That the love Father has for Him might be in us’ (Double Wow!) 3. ‘That He [Jesus] would be formed in us.’ (Simplicity!). The person of Christ is manifested within us as the fullness of the Father’s love for His Son is released within our hearts — naturally accompanied by the full measure of the Son’s joy! This is Christlikeness. The well is the love Father has for Jesus, generously available to each one of us.

Have we gone from being the lost son starving in a distant land, utterly convinced of our need of Grace, evolving instead into the self-congratulating older brother; striving in the field, never disobeying a command? Christianity with an exaggerated emphasis on obedience, the commandment and Lordship is Christianity without a revelation of the Father. His goal is our hearts in union and harmony with his, not domination. In the context of the church this older ‘son’ can appear to model Christian perfection; attending all available services and midweek events, being first to volunteer at every given opportunity, desperate to earn approval from God, man and self. Yet within is either growing dryness and despair, or deep-seated dissatisfaction and frustration with this Christian life. The root of the problem is that this isn’t the Christian life!

In Hugh Grant’s movie Music and Lyrics is a song entitled: All I want to do it find a way back into love… The Self-righteous Christian Life is a loveless marriage of either rigid duty or despair. How do I know? I’ve proudly displayed my self-righteousness and feasted on its bankruptcy, indeed I still pop-in to visit from time to time! I go from leaning into the One who is the very source of all life to trying to attain my goals through human effort — a mouthful of dry sand. Father wants to help us continually find the way back into the simplicity and reality of His love. In this place, even in the midst of failure or weariness, we discover what it means to be cherished by Father the way that He loves Jesus — then, Christ’s nature is birthed in the womb of our hearts and full joy begins to manifest from within. This is the Christian life, an ancient mystery unveiled, a journey into realised Trinitarian love Divine.

[1] NT Wright, Simply Good News

For many years I mistook the force of my personality, my natural ability to influence people, situations and decisions, for the unction of the Holy Spirit. If I perceived something to be right or true, or if it was in my view an issue of God’s will, then I mistakenly believed I should bring to bear the driving force of my soul (mind, will & emotions) behind the matter until truth was acknowledged or God’s will realised — bulldozer-fashion if necessary. My erroneous behaviour stole life from my family, my friends, my compatriots, and even my own heart. The reality is that Father doesn’t need my help; it’s His work; I’m just along for the ride — Beauty from Ashes…

Over the past three to four years, with gentle violence, Father has been confronting the force of my personality with the force of His. The final score was always inevitable, the fallout not pretty. Paul’s Damascus Road confrontation preceded a three-year stint in Arabia — wilderness, a dry place, a place of death; my experience has not been dissimilar. Yet in this place my heart is meeting the One who turns the shifting sands into pools of living water; in the context of our inner journey soulish strength is ultimately weakness, spiritual weakness is the key to truly living — sonship. The first man Adam (son) became a living soul, the second Adam (Son) a life-giving spirit… ‘Father deliver me into this place.’

To feed and to lead others from the soul is to feed them from our own flesh; I have done this. In the grave of my own brokenness the love of Papa is transforming the perishableinto the imperishable, the dishonourable into the glorious, weaknesses into strength, and ultimately the natural into the spiritual. This is not only His desire but His joy! He delights to create beauty out of our ashes.

In closing this portion, I present to you unfolding life, friendship, marriage and ministry, a dwelling place accessible to all who will adventure from and embrace the place of vulnerability. This joyous, peace-imbibed, hill-singing, tree-clapping life is the way of sons; whether on the mountaintops, down in the grave or anywhere between the two. For hearts to dwell in this reality is not dependent on outward circumstances but the inward continual manifestation of the Father’s love within a vulnerable heart:-

Is. 55:10-12 “For as the rain and the snow come down from heaven and do not return there but water the earth, making it bring forth and sprout, giving seed to the sower and bread to the eater, so shall my word be that goes out from my mouth; it shall not return to me empty, but it shall accomplish that which I purpose, and shall succeed in the thing for which I sent it. For you shall go out in joy and be led forth in peace; the mountains and the hills before you shall break forth into singing, and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands.”

It’s what He is growing, speaking and accomplishing, not what I can say, implement or achieve according to my strength or ability, even in the transformation of my very self. I’d love to tell you I fully own but at the very least I know that I am seeing, the adventure continues…

‘When Jesus took bread, blessed it, broke it, and gave it to his disciples, he summarised in these gestures his own life. Jesus is chosen from all eternity, blessed at his baptism in the Jordan River, broken on the cross, and given as bread to the world.  Being chosen, blessed, broken, and given is the sacred journey of the Son of God, Jesus the Christ. When we take bread, bless it, break it, and give it with the words “This is the Body of Christ,” we express our commitment to make our lives conform to the life of Christ.  We too want to live as people chosen, blessed, and broken, and thus become food for the world.’ Bread for the Journey, Henri Nouwen.

If I’d read the passage quoted above at the time of our last publication, I would not have understood it as I do today, just six short months later. It would also be fair to say that tomorrow I will not understand it as I do today—the journey is ongoing. Different seasons of my life can be characterised by different emphases — in one season discovering more of my ‘chosenness’, in another more of ‘becoming food for the world’, but this season is defined by increasing degrees of brokenness and is deeply personal.

In the past my perception of brokenness has been that it is something to ‘get over’, something to be ‘dealt with’, something to be politely ashamed of, something that should be spoken of in the past tense as soon as is practically possible. Today I’m growing increasingly comfortable with my inadequacies, not yet totally comfortable, but increasingly comfortable with co-habitation — embracing my broken condition and entering in my weakness into the presence of Love (not ‘bringing’ my brokenness with me because my brokenness is me — the difference is subtle but significant as the former is still to hold brokenness at arm’s length). What I discover there is not judgment, disdain, or distance but Understanding, Compassion and Intimacy, Love’s unconditional embrace — my brokenness is me, my shortcomings are mine, and truly I am Loved for who I am right now. I’ve known this theologically for as long as I can remember, but now my heart is finally seeing, experiencing, and owning, like the first promising rays of sunlight on the dawn of a new day. Grace is deeply precious in this place. In my Christian(?) ‘I’ve got it altogetherness,’ grace is a nice concept, an increasingly distant memory; but in brokenness it is ever-present life and breath, a place of rest and self-acceptance where I can finally be me without shame or excuse… Even the darkness is not dark to you; the night is bright as the day, for darkness is as light with you. (Psalm 139:12)