I showered and napped after my early a.m. hike.  Then I worshipped.  When I was on top of Soldier’s Mountain this morning, it was cold and overcast.  I asked the Lord to give me, instead, a picture perfect day.  (This is my last day of solitude; my one full day of seeking Him before I head home.) 

After I awoke from my nap, I realized it was the picture perfect day I had asked for.  The sun was gloriously out, and it was warm, and even hot in the direct sun.  Though there were clouds, they were the thick, fluffy, cumulus clouds that decorate the sky, instead of distract from it.  The Lord had granted my request!  Thank you, Father!

I donned shorts and flip-flops (probably to my brother’s chagrin) and headed down the trail of silence.  Meet me Lord, is my prayer today.  The Trail of Silence has a sign post, marking your entry to it that reads:  “Trail of Silence – Be still and know that I am God.  (Psalm 46:10)”.  I love that.

So I walked, in contemplation and reflection.  What resounded through my being was Isaiah 6:3:  “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of hosts; the whole earth is full of His glory.”  Yes, Lord, my heart echoed, the whole earth is full of Your glory.

I marveled at the sounds, the smell, the sight.  Wildflowers dotted the grassy stretches, in colors of yellow, white, purple, red and lavender.  No one planted them!  The wind moved through the pines, leaving a scent of crispness, and nature, and freshness – all at the same time.  And the aspens…oh the aspens!  Their stark white trunks stood in startling contrast to the browns and deep greens of the pines, and the very countryside about them.  Their shimmery leaves dangled like delicate jewels off teardrop earrings.  Every sense in me was awakened, heightened.  The only sounds I heard were of creation.  There were no vices of man on the path – no cigarette butts or empty beer or pop cans, no trash at all.  An occasional ground squirrel or rabbit would scamper near the trail, and the sound of the grasshoppers’ wings was frequent.  On my return a bird of prey was calling, but it was all so beautiful.  I was reminded of the images depicted in Hinds’ Feet on High Places.  I was at peace, and a quiet exhilaration.  Yes, Lord, the whole earth is full of Your glory.

I thought of His creation here on my walk.  Every flower, every tree, every insect and bird and creature – they all glorified Him simply by being His creation.  To commune with God is truly the highest mark of achievement, satisfaction, joy – yes LIFE, that one can experience. 

We are the created; He is the Creator.  That is the correct order.  Just being His daughter and loving Him, my Father and Maker – that glorifies Him.  All the noble deeds and abilities spent on honoring Him can never bring the highest work of glorifying Him, as simply loving and communing with the Lord.  This is my childhood lesson:  the lesson of nature.  When I walked down my country road, or explored the woods, or sat in the midst of a swaying brome or wheat field, or skipped rocks across a creek, or watched a thunderstorm light up the sky – these, these were my most cherished childhood memories. 

The complexities of this life dissipated in the quiet contemplation of nature.  We need not “do” to please our Father, we need only “be” as He has made us.

As I came out of the trail, storm clouds were moving across Pike’s Peak and the distant rumblings of thunder could be heard. 

So now I sit, in sweats and a sweatshirt, writing my reflections and savoring every moment in this environment.  I’m not so naïve to disregard the reality of this life.  Tomorrow we will drive back, and all the responsibilities, demands and distractions will be before me once more.  I’m grappling with questions before the Lord that have filled up a notebook page, and I just got started.  Satan has deceived the vast majority of Americans into believing that productivity defines worth.  It does not.  As usual, he has manipulated the truth into a deception.  The truth is because of our infinite worth to our Father we are productive, NOT we must be productive in order to achieve worth. 

So I woke up this morning and read, and it was the glorious passages of Isaiah 24-26(ish).  Then I headed out for an early (not really) a.m. walk.  I wanted to be in the mountains, not around them, so I headed toward the new green slopes.  And I climbed.  It was so steep. 

I was discouraged because my thoughts were so agitated and not at all focused on experiencing God.  I was very irritated with an experience from the night before.  I was bothered by this insistent issue of control I keep witnessing between two people.  It’s really an issue of one controlling another, and it doesn’t seem to lessen.  I hate it, and it causes me to feel (key word) like I don’t want to be around them.  So as I replayed the instance in my mind and as I walked, the more agitated I became.  And then I became agitated that I really didn’t want to be thinking of that at all, but wanted to be drawing near to God. 

I was climbing and it took my breath away.  So I’d rest at intervals and look and ponder.  At first I found I was still carrying my agitation and telling myself not to care and just focus.  I’d look down and see the resort and the life going on and it was so hard to focus.  My eyes would naturally look down at the resort, and I found it took a concerted effort to lift my eyes up and away – towards the mountains higher than I was, higher than the circumstances at the resort.

It was so steep – steeper than I realized.  I would make my goal for the next terrace, or light pole, before my next rest.  I’d pause to catch my breath and look around.  After a period it was more difficult to see specific details of the resort and the life going on there.  It was easier to look up and around at the mountains.  I all but forgot about the situation that bothered me so much.

I hit this incline that was very steep.  I was trying to be conscious of the time and getting back, and truly, it was just that difficult to climb.  I was immensely enjoying the silence accompanied by the sounds of nature.  I could no longer hear the interstate traffic or the workers I passed at the base. 

My head cleared up the higher I climbed – and I found myself marveling at God.  I loved that I was alone.  The Lord began to show me how so many are content to stay at their point of lodging, and don’t even attempt to ascend the mountain of God.  Then when they do, they’re constantly distracted by what they left behind.  They keep looking down and back, instead of around and up.  Like the first part of my climb when my eyes kept drifting back to the lodge, and my thoughts kept focusing on the situation that had me bothered.  But if we will just persist in our climbing, the pull will be less and less, and the drawing towards God will increase.

I hit this really steep incline and I toyed with turning back.  I was still keeping my eye on the time, and besides, I thought, I could do it another day.  I waited at this point, debating within of what to do.  This was the second paint I had considered turning around and just going back.  But something inside of me pushed on, so on I went.

Finally – I finally reached, not the top, but a specific clearing near the top – and to go on would require of me to change directions. I turned, and for the first time I got a perspective of these snow capped mountains off to my left that I could not see at any point before now.  I immediately thought of how I would’ve missed that had I turned back earlier. 

I stood there on this mountainside alone and in awe.    I began to feel the awesome stillness of the presence of God.  I looked down and could no longer see the resort.  Everything was different.  Peace abounded, and the absolute glory of God in the splendor of His creation.  I loved it. 

I spread out my jacket and just laid there on the mountainside.  I knew because of time, I couldn’t go on that morning.  As I had climbed, and gradually lost the pull back toward the resort and the gravitation of my thoughts to my circumstances, the Lord placed a Jason Upton song in my head.  “I was dreaming of the holy city; I was wearing my wings.  Then I looked up and saw a doorway to heaven, and I heard you calling me:  ‘come up here, come up now, my beloved, my beloved.  Come up here, come up now, my beloved, my beloved.’  I want to fly like an eagle in the sky.  I want to fly through that doorway in the sky.” 

And as I climbed, I heard the Lord whisper in my inmost being “come up here, come up now, my beloved.”

I didn’t want to leave.  I liked my circumstances and my lodging out of sight and faint in my mind.  I loved the peace and presence of God that was here.  But I recalled an Oswald Chambers’ entry that spoke of the mountaintop experiences and the need, almost insistence, to return to the “demon-possessed valley”.

I looked over at the gondola and I recalled Much-Afraid in Hind’s Feet on High Places stepping out in faith to cross the precipice and the gondola taking her.  I thought of her slow and painful ascent to meet with the Shepherd on the Most High Place at the top of the mountain.  The climb had been difficult and precarious and beautiful and lone and dangerous – just to name a few.  And when she finally hit that point just before the summit, there was a stone altar.  She knew what she needed to do.  She laid herself on the altar and attempted to tear out the root of self-love.  She couldn’t do it by herself, though, and sought the robed priest to bind her to the altar and remove the root.  She was afraid if he didn’t bind her to the altar, she would struggle against him and the pain.

I did that last year.  I’ve laid my heart on His altar and given Him permission to take that bitter root in me.  And He did.  All this came to mind again as I laid there on the mountain.  The moment was sacred to me and I wanted an altar – something to indelibly mark this moment.  I erected an altar in my heart and sought a sacrifice.  What?    I’d already given Him everything – my life, my dreams, everything. 

This Jason Upton song came to me:  “To You I give my life – not just the parts I want to.  To You I sacrifice these dreams that I hold onto.  Your thoughts are higher than mine.  Your words are deeper than mine.  Your love is stronger than mine.  This is no sacrifice.  Here’s my life.  To You I give the gifts Your love has given me.  How can I hoard the treasures that You designed for free?  To You I give my future, as long as it may last.  To You I give my present, to You I give my past.  This is no sacrifice, here’s my life.”

I’ve given it.  So I recommitted my life to my Creator as a living sacrifice.  Here’s my life, dear Lord, here’s my life.  It’s Yours to do with as You please.

Then I recalled that Much-Afraid, after joining the Shepherd at the summit and getting her hinds feet and new name, looked back down the mountainside to the valley below where her family and friends lived – and knew she must go back down.  I knew, too. 

This is just a personal experience I want to recount that I may learn from it and have it recorded should another occasion manifest that I can apply the lesson.

I became friends with a gal on facebook.  We’ll call her “Carly Simon”.  I loved Carly’s hunger for truth and the Word of God.  I watched her from afar for awhile.  She has a tremendous following, very well liked, very much venerated.   I watched for awhile because of the mixture I saw in some of her work.  But then she had a humbling experience and I watched her humble herself and repent, and it moved me. 

Carly and I struck up some personal conversations over time, away from the public eye, and bounced ideas and theories off of each other.  We shared experiences and revelations we had each had.  We actually met up and I thought we had a great first meeting.

But there was this weird undercurrent I kept perceiving.  It wasn’t always there – it kind of ebbed and flowed.  And I couldn’t pinpoint what it was about.  I usually mark such things off as something inherent in me.  I’ve been burned by so many, trust is difficult for me to achieve.  So I figure I’m too suspicious or too guarded.  Sometimes the damage of things experienced in the past cause me insecurities in the present, but I manage them relatively well.  Regardless, I thought Carly was real and honest, so I kept proceeding forward in a quasi friendship. 

There was a time I shared a very personal testimony of an encounter I had with the Lord several years back.  I think only four people know about it.  The next day she recounted the same encounter with my same talking points in a post, only as though it was her personal experience.  I didn’t know what to do with that, so I just made a mental note to not share too deeply in the future.  I gave her the benefit of the doubt and moved on.

Some of the digs Carly did I just didn’t understand.  Her mind worked in ways mine did not and I had trouble connecting the dots she connected.  If I didn’t understand what she was saying in a post, I usually scrolled on.  Plenty of people lauded her; her work was/is beneficial to hundreds to thousands of people.  And I couldn’t tell what this undercurrent that kept ebbing back in was about.

Then she made a post about Esau and the Edomites, and some very specific things connecting from the past to players in the present.  I didn’t get it, so I scrolled on.  A mutual friend tagged me on that post thinking I would appreciate it.  So I revisited the post, reread it with new eyes, and was troubled by it.  It didn’t resonate with me, and I wasn’t sure why. 

I wondered if it was pride on my part.  She had connected some genealogy lines from Esau into the present day, and I have studied a significant portion of genealogy over the past two decades.  Was my pride insulted that she had discovered something I never had before?  Was it disappointment in myself that I had studied so long and had missed a critical piece?  I couldn’t be sure my reaction was not my own flesh, so I was reluctant to do anything with it. 

Yet as I thought it over, I thought, maybe if I understood where she was coming from…. 

A constant private criticism I’ve had of Carly’s work is her lack of posting her sources and even her lack of giving credit to other works.  She has quoted other work without using quotations, which of course leads the reader to believe it’s the writer’s own words.  And although this is plagiarism, I overlooked these things as though she must not realize it – perhaps does not know proper writing technique.  Her content was good and insightful and I would have loved to have incorporated some of it in some of my own work, but I had nothing to source it to, so I felt unable to.

These conflicts were raging in me as I finished reading her post on Esau a second time.  And then I thought, just figure out where she’s getting her information.  So I quoted her:  “Esau swore to destroy every last Tribe of Israel member that ever existed.”  Can you tell me where you source that please? (smiley face)

When she replied, sometimes the comment section shows the most recent reply first, and she replied with Genesis 27:41:  Now Esau hated Jacob because of the blessing with which his father had blessed him, and Esau said to himself, “The days of mourning for my father are approaching; then I will kill my brother Jacob.”

So I replied back that I was trying to clarify that Esau would destroy the tribes of Israel.  In the meantime, the other comment she left showed up after I posted that follow up question.  In it, she commented Jubilees 37:23.  After reading that, I deleted my follow up question and replied, “Sorry!  This one was blocked when I looked a minute ago.  Thanks!”  She gave it a thumb’s up.

I was disturbed as I sat there mulling this over, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.  There were some fleeting thoughts that ran across my mind.  I stood up from my office chair and walked out of my office.  I can’t specifically recall the flurry of thoughts that ran across my mind, but I do remember that as I started walking down my hallway I said aloud, “No.  This is not a competition.  I will not compete for the knowledge of the things of God.”

I went to bed that night praying and asking God why I was troubled, with no clear answer.  The next morning I was in my kitchen doing dishes and I asked the Lord if this was just my flesh rising up?  I talked with God for a bit about it and I said to Him, “I will humble myself and learn from Carly.  You are able to speak to anyone, and it doesn’t matter how many years I’ve studied and researched.  If I’ve missed something, I’ve missed something.”  So I set myself to ask her  to help me understand how she reached her conclusions on Esau.

I sent her a personal message and told her I wanted to understand the Esau thoughts she had better.

Her reply was this: 

So what specifically would you like me to explain?  The is [sic] broad question and I’m sure you’re looking for me to try and convince you of something I believe.  I’m also not trying to be rude but I know what you were doing with your comment on my post the other day because the HS told me and because you deleted your comment.  I’m not sure what you’re looking to learn from me but rather prove me wrong?

….I’m not rude or mean but I am letting you know I believe you’re looking to discredit me.

If I’m wrong I apologize but that [sic] what my gut told me.

Now this isn’t really about the topic of Esau.  It’s about an accusation that I somehow have set out to discredit Carly.  And she told me the Holy Spirit told her that.  (I’m not sure it was the same Holy Spirit I was talking to, though, because that’s not how my conversation with Him went.)

I sought the Lord for quite some time on this.  The last thing I want is my flesh sabotaging the work of the Spirit in my life or others.  For starters, the Spirit told me that was an accusation, and accusations come from the accuser (satan).  [Revelation 12:10]  So immediately I know the spirit behind this is not the Holy Spirit. 

I placed my heart upon the altar and asked God to search it, in case there was some unclean way in it.  [For the record, I would assume there is.  If I am not constantly taking my thoughts captive to the obedience of Christ, then I can rest assured the enemy can creep into them.]  I immediately went back to the exchange on the post in my comments.  I wondered if I was off in my flesh and thought I must have been…..  Then the Spirit reminded me of the statement I made aloud when I walked out of my office.  I rebuked that thought line and rejected it.

What I think He showed me was that a spirit of contention, strife and maybe competition was working between us, and it was working on me when I read her post, and it worked on her when I commented on it.  I think the Lord showed me it was an unclean spirit trying to move on my thoughts, and that same spirit accused me before Carly.  It was an assignment to bring contention and strife.  And it worked. 

I’m really quite sad about the whole thing, because now that the accusation has been made, and though I denied it, [I told her, “Not at all my intention.  I’m sorry you feel that way.”], there has been no effort for reconciliation. 

As I further searched my heart the Lord asked me, “Would you discredit Carly, Michelle?”  After honest thought I could say no.  No I wouldn’t.  I may disagree with her if my own findings differed, but I would not set out to publicly discredit a friend who I trust is seeking God for truth.  I would either stay silent (most likely) or just simply disagree in a respectful “agree to disagree” sort of way.  It is not my ambition EVER to discredit brothers and sisters seeking God.  So no, it is not even my nature or inclination to do such.

And I just offer this here for myself really.  As a reminder of the cunningness of the enemy to speak into our minds, to sow seeds of doubt, and contention, strife, even competition.  These are not fruits of the Spirit of God.  I must reject them as they come to me, and I must rightly identify them.

Carly and I have not spoken since then.  I bless her and her work.  I have prayed for her and that God would use her mightily for His Kingdom purposes.  I am resolved to not allow any more damage to the work of the Kingdom in this matter.  I just thought I’d need this reminder to take thoughts captive, look at the fruit of the thoughts, and discern their origin.  I must crucify the flesh, and cast out darkness.  To God be all the Glory.

When you write for an audience, the feeling is different than if you write for yourself. It’s more refined, and it goes through a series of checklists. You take into consideration things like how something sounds, how it would be perceived and received, and you are ever aware of the implications what you write may or may not carry.

Sometimes that’s a heavy weight. You refrain from clauses or phrases that could be misunderstood or misperceived. You clean up rambles. You write from a 360degree angle instead of a 45degree — meaning at 360degrees you try to perceive every angle around your written statement and make sure it bears up under scrutiny. In contrast, at 45degrees, you basically throw your thought out there without necessarily qualifying it.

And sometimes I just want to write in the raw, without the checklist I go through to see if my words could be used against me, misunderstood, or be inflammatory. I just want to be raw, (or unplugged — as a musician would say).

But the weight of responsibility of the written word restrains me. In teaching I would never write in the raw. But in sharing thoughts, I’d like to, once in awhile.

So I might do that one of these days….put some thoughts out in the raw. They may be thoughts I haven’t researched and can’t qualify. They might be a rant about something that I just need to release. They might not make sense, and I might regret them later. They might (and probably will) be in error on some level.

I don’t need an audience, but sometimes I have one. I don’t need or want followers. The responsibility is too heavy. I am keenly aware that I’m going to be wrong on some of my thoughts. We’re works in progress, and what we know to be truth today can easily change tomorrow. I hate that my errors of yesterday can be used against me today, especially when I have corrected my error. (And a tangible written reminder of my prior errors is even worse.)

No, I don’t want followers.

But I love God so much. I love who He is and I love who we are. We have a relationship that is the most important thing to me. In learning about Him, I just want to share the revelations. One, because we talk about the things we love. We like to share them. Joys are multiplied when we share, just like sorrows are divided when we share. If I have a good friend, I talk about him (her). I want you to meet him or her. Two, because I’ve learned so much. I always think if I can be spared a lesson (really the consequences of the lesson is what I want spared from) you’ve learned, by all means, bring it! I don’t need the same spanking or sorrow that lesson brings. I’d love to avoid that. And three, because sometimes we need help getting from here to there. If it weren’t for some amazing people I’ve learned from, I’d be a sorrier mess than even now. That they took the time to share what they had learned, make God real, explain things I didn’t understand, etc., I have been able to navigate some tricky parts of life and faith, and I have been able to learn and grow.

So I just want to share God. And sometimes other things.

It has taken me decades to learn some things, like my writing. This thing happens that I’ve not really understood until the last decade or so, and it’s been a gradual revelation, like the light before the sunrise. However I’m wired, there is this thing in my wiring that only happens when I write.

I’ve taken in a lot of information in my life, literally thousands of hours learning (and unlearning). And it’s like all this data sits in some files somewhere in my brain, percolating. If someone asks me in person about a topic, I kind of stumble my way around the answer. Sometimes I can properly and adequately convey the information I have, but sometimes I just stumble through it ineffectively. But when I sit down to write, there’s something about the thoughts reaching the fingers for me. They organize differently. They come out almost effortlessly, and they come out in order (usually). While it’s still a labor, it’s an enjoyable labor (usually).

Also, frequently when I write, God just downloads to me as I’m writing. It’s like revelations fall into my spirit and come out my fingers. It is the coolest thing and I am usually the most surprised of all. I’ll go back and read and be like, wow! I didn’t even know I thought that! (hahahaha!)

I can get and be inspired when I speak. Some people prefer my speaking over my written word. They think it’s more real, and speaks to them better. And God is faithful to breathe on my spoken word when He’s trying to send a message through me (thankfully). But I think my greater gifting is writing.

All that said, I think once in awhile, I just want to sit down and write some thoughts without editing them along the way. I just want to let them be raw and unrefined and even in error, because it’s in the thinking out that the progress is made.