Seventh

her fables in labels 

her survival in His Revival

is her choice in His Voice 

her play in day

her stop in flesh god

her stop in facades

her reject in mirage

her reject in sabotage

her reject in defiant alliance 

her play in unity 

her reject in phony community

her stop in fading cheap lemonade

her block in paused clocks

her shock in no phony he

her play in His Renegade

her play is His Ray

her play is His Way

her play in tests

her soar is His Roar

her Cornerstone Best

her okay is His Obey

her story is His glory 

her survival of play in die 

her revival of no lies

her survival of years in tears

her survival of freedom in fears 

His Revival from victim to Victor 

His Revival from break and take

His Revival from setbacks in attacks

her survival in broken token

His revival of releasing peace

It’s really hard to believe and receive, that he + He + her, will play stir to conceive edification in His Great Name, with that sordid contorted he. Because of that specific he decided to lie, press play on die, and went with the flesh god voice in his lame lemonade fading choice. The blame game is slim. I’m pressing fin. His loops in trooping the play in deluding is dim. But you God keep rejecting this moving on skin. I’m miserable because I can’t stay in running win, because you don’t see God, that you should agree, he’s a facade and this son of yours should be fin. 

He’s a dim light that rejects fight, and plays eating best last first bite. The wrong she is a suffocating expired intoxicating strife. Pale scales silently and violently prevail. She triggers the flesh god in play of mean and lean. It’s a glean dragon in the worldly wagon, that pauses His Race, plays for days in his worldly anxious pace. This flesh god facade is a postpartum conundrum. The pendulum is the whims of his whimsical wonder.

The hiss in God’s diss, by that poisonous unsatisfactory kiss. The hit it and quit it was never legit, just an ignored misfit but too late to admit. Pride hides the lies of the increasing play on die. He’s prideful and plays hide. He’s loud and proud in the radioactive massive profess of strayer distress. His wrong and strong layer actuaries the fixated logistics of his holographic configuration. If he can’t see it, or control it then he won’t roll with it, plays hesitation. The wrong she lets him be, so he choose to do her a solid, due to her mute puppet salute, trained to be no brain, and let her be seen. Good little puppy. His way, not God’s way. He relieves in receiving his ego, but all it makes him is a zero. It has him stationed at his disillusioned hero hat. There’s no facts, just his perspective and debatable objectives. The magnitude of his attitude has no value, because it is not eternal virtues. 

The wrong she sees a prize, it’s a jigsaw puzzle of lies playing die. The chaotic and robotic dynamic, is a routine that’s mean and lean; making the fading formula of looped 2015 unclean. Everyday is today of yesterday. The mini platform is the flesh god conform, press pause on godly transform. 

All things new cannot be true for these two. They stand in an inclusive band of land, starring exclusive he + she. Pathologically lying is them unilaterally trying. Going ahead made God dead, in their empty hearts for they are far apart. In the she who findeth a good he, this truth brushed under a noticeable rug, full of proof. The nightly community is saluted in mute to this unspoken truth. Scales hides godly details of true hues. The wrong she decided to abide in isolated confinement. The flesh god facade, supported by this nightly community births their deluded unity. There’s no alignment without God. Just flesh god facades of the profess in stress. Boldly and coldly playing golden dry bones. According to the confess of active god flesh.

These hearts are completely stones. Only God can resurrect the reject of His Dry Bones. The godly free is a blatant disrespect to this he + she. The world says yes, so there’s no accountability. Just the reels of tranquility and no humility. Lust is the rust that supported this explosive fuss. The nightly community formulated a flesh god unity in this missed mark of dark. For now, God allows, the follow in the hallow swallow. The deleted godly debrief, is belief in a falsified relief, that materials and status is the ultimate vantage point. Selling yourself is not love. Positioning yourself is also not love. 

In the world, the best last first bite leads to the rabbit whole of never ending strife. The sliding in gliding of blackened death is the proof that’s chosen to be seen as aloof. Being still, births God’s Gills, and the truth of these cheap thrills can be finally seen, so no more shows starring, lean, mean and glean featuring ms. 17. His call will be their all, mentally then kinetic in separately. Every knee bows. The seven jar for she. The seventh dip for he. They both will see and be. His way, no more flesh god delay. The play on day will be His Obey. Say Chao in this show. God is saying it’s time to go. So glow through His Flow. Survive by His revival. Allow the godly bow. Misery can be history when now is the choice, only now births His voice. So make the choice. Let God move, and do God so reject this facade. Amen.

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fin,

there’s a sophistication 

in this hesitation 

to reject His Ray

so press play on delay

muted diluted drunken salutes

derailed pale scales 

are prevailing in play moot

fear is the focus

sensational sporadic locus

God is a prism 

the world is a schism 

the world is silent and violent 

tear stained alliances

has no purposed pain

no way to play gain 

midnight hours

has a call of His Power

in His Great Name 

there’s purpose to pain 

Our King plays sing

choose to Play Proof

reject flesh god aloof

see the blinking test 

thinking plays the sinking 

winking births the hurts 

stand strong in this throng 

reject the wrong song 

be unapologetic in kinetic to unity 

that’s true community 

not this flesh god nightly amenity 

birthing the animosity 

not the Truth of His Divinity 

cling in Cornerstone Best

stop the test 

play confess

bind stress 

play His Profess

bind easily triggered distress

release the displease 

upward fall in His Ease

hymn to godly harmony 

to see the test 

as His Testimony

reject choke 

stop choosing broken

it’s a toxic token

to ride and slide

in black tarred hide

to die in lie

play His Yolk 

play freedom

don’t play looped 17

play redeemed

don’t play mean

don’t play lean

don’t play glean

play serene 

play heal

play real

play feel

reject the reels 

reject the erotic drums

in the abyss of numb 

heal from postpartum 

by His Dove 

upward fall, upward fall

say yes to His Call

Only God is Real Love

the replays are delays

in rapid wildfires 

radiating rust

ashes to ashes

dust to dust 

God is all things new

don’t get tripped up

it’s a flesh god setup 

distractions are attractive 

then the lemonade fades

pollution in lost fiduciary files 

is a dilution mixed of selfish solutions 

press play in His Obey

stop Wilderness of Groundhog Day 

it is a lesson learned reason

still being played in an expired season 

cultivating flesh god unnecessary trials

because pride hides lies

with professed poisonous gunpowder 

playing the midnight hour

of healing escape 

there’s beauty in humility 

stop replaying hit it

to quit it

birthing the flesh god misfits 

this defiant alliance

is the works of a falsified prophet

being celebrated publicly 

secretly growing a part

it’s apart of the art

in that bleeding of flesh god delegation

there’s truly no sophistication 

just fearful hesitation

test transforms to testimony

press play to His Obey

stop choosing broken

it’s a toxic token

to ride and slide

in black tarred hide

to die in lie

play His Yolk 

play freedom

See in His Be

sleepwalking just births 

hurts of silent talking 

being kinetic in no direction walking 

the truth in His Proof

sets us free

there’s truly no sophistication 

just fearful hesitation

to reject His Ray

so press play on His Obey

Be Still

choose His Gills

pale scales will fall

clarity in His call comes

drums become silenced

visions will be clear

removing the death of fear

the answer is here 

God is near

God is always here

be broken through God 

transforms the facades 

kills the skin of flesh god

be the survival of His Revival

God’s voice 

is true love’s choice

fin,

Checkmate

he’s stopped on stalemate 

he plays aloof for hesitate 

God presses Proof 

God plays Checkmate 

he’s pressing play on too late

her actuate swing rejects the premed in restoration 

he plays selfish actions 

the result: erotic unsatisfactory 

Only God writes Love Story

her replay is run 

he didn’t choose light 

he thinks and sinks 

her figurehead reacts in survival

he doesn’t desire a revival

he chooses mute in the dying lying salute

her caught off guard, is now her block 

he paused his countdown clock

he chooses play on pretend

her choice is the end

God’s choice is mend

God says he + He + her

regardless of God’s pending end in this deluded troop

her determination is to reject his restoration 

her vision is his decision on seclusion  

he ringed the wrong she in a ruse fusion

stay in die and lie

her choice is bye

her reject in the godly stir

he + He + her

forever tainted 

he played flesh god and painted

his lies are a reel of Lamentations 

her perspective plays run

he cannot reduce this deluded juice 

Kool-Aid is not wine

he cannot undo time 

at the cross Jesus cleaned death’s facades

all is not lost but he plays flesh god 

with the salient press forever in flesh

he objects his debated confess

he runs from the sun

he’s high in his lies

he’s cold and old

without God, he is unclean 

without God, he is mean

without God, he’s looped on tween

without God, he fast forward with a ring 

without God, his way plays delays

he birthed pillow stained stings

to maintain the lame

he plays go on the blame game

the wrong she is looped as ms. 17

he sees ms. 17 as an easy punching bag

ms. 17 fights to never shed light on this worldly lag

delaying the dark nights 

will not avoid the play on fight 

neither can be in this ending flee

Only God plays defiant allow

for the greater good

to pull the weeds of hallow swallows

every knee still bows

His chosen must reject night 

His chosen must play day 

His chosen must be broken 

for the seeds of the wrong weeds

to no longer bleed barren

once and for all

they will both answer His Call

mentally to later play kinetic in separately 

at the cross Jesus cleaned death’s facades

all is not lost but he plays flesh god 

with the salient press forever in flesh

he objects his debated confess

he runs from the sun

he’s high in his lies

he’s cold and old

without God, he is unclean 

without God, he is mean

without God, he’s looped on tween

without God, he fast forward with a ring 

he birthed pillow stain stings

to maintain the lame

he presses play on the blame game

the wrong she is looped as ms. 17

starring the mean, lean, and gleaned 

bided on the wrong song in the looped history 

their defiant alliance plays whimsical lemonade mysteries

both reject patience in God

both play forbearance in facade

he’s the be of sabotage

ms. 17 is the enabler of their mirage 

godly objections 

were ignored corrections 

the need to feed this greed of flesh

was a unified appliance in worldly defiance 

this commonality is not a harmony 

two wrongs will never be right

even with a phony community 

that plays nightly unity 

the lampshade cannot be ignored 

the loop of 2015 birthed the unclean

forever in ms. 17’s head

is a journey she slides in as dead

God always plays truth 

ms. 17 deliberately chooses aloof

ms. 17 worked hard with her law of averages in this current he 

the isolated confinement 

birthed this diluted alignment 

the opportunity for ms. 17

to be the she who findeth not he

instead of waiting in still

ms. 17 rejected His Gills

permanently, the choice wasn’t eternity

the choice was flesh 

what God puts together 

let no man separate 

this truth needs God

this truth does not include fleshly facades 

impossible is always separated 

I’m possible is only God

God is the Great I Am

No matter what man generates 

he’s stopped on stalemate 

he plays aloof for hesitate 

God presses Proof 

God plays Checkmate 

times up, reject hesitate 

play now

be pulled by His Allow

God says go

so go

stop playing no

Only God is the Ultimate King

Only God makes souls sing

Only God holds the ready ring

this is a lesson learned reason

play Fin in this expired season

obey God’s okay

reject delay

Only God plays Checkmate 

reject stalemate 

 

Pitfalls

God…. What’s going on right now on earth is chaotic and robotic; completely polluted the toxicities of a hypocrisy to talk a walk the blurred lines in bold coldness. I unilaterally kinetically stand alone unapologetically. I’m in the refusal to wear the death of a drone. 

This delusion is a phony conclusion, posing as an inclusion to the cross lifted. In our flesh we silently confess, our inner core detesting the necessity of dark nights. Simon only became Peter through the dark nights. We fight to lie and die in flesh. The truth is Your Proof, that this aloof is an exclusion, birthing ghosts in our habitat. A cancerous host to the dilution in the mixed solution Jesus refused at the cross.

We are at a loss in translation of Our Dedication to Your Great Name. The world is playing lame.

We need you God. So desperately. The bold coldness is so suffocatingly isolating. Where’s the accountability of our rebuke in love? Where’s the biblical push to walk on the scripture power we are encouraged to memorize. satan knows the bible too, but like the world, it’s just inactive knowledge. There’s no push to walk the talk of the Holy Bible. There’s no white flag waving in surrender. Theres no repentance, where the old skin is dead in the water of our symbolic baptism of all things new. There’s deliverance in the hinderance called surrender. Instead, there’s bullets flying, and cold blooded murder. The definition of a martyr is blurred, with the potent scales prevailing, as these massive whales declaring; the consumption of your blind, weak chosen. We are paused on frozen. 

We are living but not breathing. There’s a dangerous loop, in the horde troop of these galloped horses; stampeding through the bleeding of our weary hearts. Drifting even further apart. We are one body and multiple parts. There’s beauty in unity. But the pitfalls of the recurring themed Groundhog Day in Our Wilderness, is bigger by our various triggers. There’s deliverance in this hinderance called surrender. However, the popular track of attacks, is the mean lean gleam of the solidarity confinement, in alignment of the wrong boom boom. 

Hidden tears suppressing paralyzing fears, are the eyes and ears, to the actuate of our swing. In the wind, we transcend to the pull of the wool living in our sting. It’s designed to be a lesson of confessions. Not the ghost of our hosted hostage. We should not be pressing play on sabotage due to that minute mirage. The wool is over our eyes, by the lies that bind us blind. We should not be pressing play on silent salute. Be still to discern the sting, for the zoom to be loud enough, to comprehend the correct lens of God’s message. 

My life is absolutely crazy right now God. But you already know this as the penned author to my blueprint as your vessel. Like I can’t even conceptualize, how insane the pressure is pressing, from all angles God. That’s probably why your ways are Higher. One of my favorite scripture powers to meditate on Dad. I haven’t called you Dad in a while because I’ve been so mad at you. Like all you keep telling me is to walk through all of this, be still and to trust you, over and over, and various ways. 

Periodically, I receive that image of a charcoal rock. That you want me to chew on, and push myself to flexibly expand my perspective. Most days it’s a stupid grey rock, I want to break windows with. It’s so interesting that I’m adamant, to never allow any of my students to say the word stupid. Yet, I freely use this word, when I’m in the eyewall of my emotions. The most dangerous part of any storm. There’s nothing more dangerous than the storm of a raging human. 

Talk about ineffectively leading by example, when no one is watching. I didn’t connect until now, how you have been showing me this rock for a while. But when I’m still, I swiftly lift in descend to the eye of the storm, the most peaceful and safest place to be. That’s where you dwell God. 

I’m slowly starting to effectively comprehend, why you’ve positioned my lift to incorporate so much stillness in my life right now. It’s increasing my clarity tremendously. Especially, the blessing of my new church. Talk about the rainbow in these deep grey clouds Dad. And this blessing is so timely. Because you’re still peeling the reel of cheap lemonade, that temporarily stayed in my space of being Your Renegade. 

The imitation was a limitation, that lasted for far too long. That wrong song, delegated and celebrated, was a suffocation by leaders consumed in the zoom of deadly flesh. Instead of the surrender, to Your Might God, there was an insulting tender to the reject of day and play on night. A devastating lampshade, has been placed on the illumination of Your Edification.

There’s a dangerous hesitation in the declaration to say yes to your call. There’s a withdrawal to copy and paste these pitfalls. The abyss that starts with that kiss of flesh. There’s deliverance in this hinderance called surrender. 

This morning was interesting in your presence God. You pointed my pendulum to a dream I found as a continuum for a year, until this morning. The push to quench my growing thirst of more didn’t activate, until I took Be Transformed at my old church. I will always love my old church, because I harvested my relationship with you there God. 

I found my savior Jesus, through Jojo* and my old church, regardless of all my suppressed hurt, my old church was a blessing in my life. A Labrador Tea Flower, birthed from my rock of you God. I know with conviction, that you are My Cornerstone Best God. I can’t say with confidence, that I’d stand firmly on this truth. If I didn’t live the last three years, exactly how I did, I wouldn’t be the daughter you’ve been pruning me to be. Even all my pain, still had a gain of my intimacy with you God. For that, everything was worth it.  

My hinderance had a deliverance because I pressed play on day and rejected night; despite the painful fight to press pause in this pitfall. All would’ve been loss, and my life is not my own. So my consistency in my vulnerability, through my painful hesitancy remained the same. I kept my figurehead focused on the truth that everything I breathe is bigger than me. 

Crysta is a vessel to the canvas that God paints. My yes is connected to yeses that follow me. So I am deliberate in my desperation to always keep my sword lifted. Even when I want to put it down like I have been lately. My heart is broken by so much it can’t be formulated. The world is in a renal pitfall that urgently needs a transplant called revival. There’s too many periods found in places where Your Commas should dwell. There’s deliverance in this hinderance called surrender. 

I remember this dream as if I had this dream last night. And I remember describing this dream to my Be Transformed small group. And describing this dream to my parents. I described the dream to my parents first. My father is completely freaked out by supernatural, like the rest of so many of your chosen. And my dad’s unhealthy outlet is alcohol. A long time ago my father admitted to me, that he drinks thinking what he sees with his spiritual eyes will go away, but told me it doesn’t. I have a memory of an elephant. 

God has wired me to not forget anything. He guides me to store information for a later date, for His Perfect Timing, like God did with this dream I had around this time last year. So the dream started with a beautiful white sanded beach. I sensed danger immediately, regardless of the beauty and tranquility from the waves. It was dangerous. 

The serene sounds were a facade. What kept tripping me up was how short the eyes I was seeing from were. I kept saying I’m not this short. I’m 5’10”. The eyes I was seeing from was like 5’2″. I’m no longer confused, because God revealed to me this morning who’s eyes they belonged to. His daughter that inspired the poem 17. That surprised me, but reflecting on the dream now, it makes a lot more sense. So I get why you kept telling me to be still. Events had to play out up to this point, for me to really get your message. 

The back of the son you keep showing me is my ribcage appeared. He was wearing a faded red pizzeria shirt with fading white letters spelling deliver me. At this time last year, I was looking at the dream from a surfaced perspective, thinking that’s the weirdest pizza delivery shirt ever. 

It’s a different comprehension now. So your sons back was facing the eyes of the 5’2″ daughter I was seeing through. Your deliver me shirt wearing son, had a moving box in his hand walking away from the 5’2″ daughter. She was struggling to catch up to him. And kept telling him to wait. He was ignoring her. Then the white beach sand became black tar. She started sliding the harder she tried to catch up to him. He was walking normally and easily on the black tar. The faster she tried to catch up to him, the more she slid on the black tar. Then my grandmother appeared. I immediately said why are you here? You’re dead. She gave me a distracting smile, but that was not even the weirdest part. She was eating bacon slowly. 

I said I love bacon. And I miss her. Then I woke up, and immediately looked for my parents for interpretation. They both agreed death is not of God. My mom said that satan entered the message God was sending me. She said my grandmother went to heaven with Jesus, and is a guardian angel protecting her bloodline. My dad kept saying the girl won’t get the bacon brought home to her. He also said she’s being deceived. He never addressed the girl as me. Back then I thought it was weird my dad wasn’t addressing the girl as me. But now I get why. Because it wasn’t me. Then my dad told me that boy is trouble, and deeply troubled and for me to wait on God. That’s exactly what I did. And that’s what I will continue to do. Because our pitfalls is a hinderance, with a deliverance called surrender. I choose to play surrender. Thank you Holy Spirit. 

17

she’s in a routine. that’s mean and lean. she feels unclean.

she’s 17.

she’s 17.

she’s 17.

she replays the days that weighs on her heart.

she doesn’t understand why there’s still separation, and they are a part. there’s no love. what the world sees is not her be. the he she hides is the one that makes her cry.

after all the lies and binds that tied them to the world.

it’s still not enough, because their souls are cold.

their silence as a forced alliance is no longer looking bold. together they’re looking old, pressed on hold and stressed. the pending confess is a halted profess. the press to resume is permanent on the zoom to the unfolded. when the world says yes but God says no. Only God can make you Go. they are both on stop.

she’s in a routine. That’s mean and lean. she feels unclean.

she’s 17.

she’s 17.

she’s 17.

he was her muse. the popular guy that lied, who didn’t want her, but her persistence got her him. she who findeth not he. over time he got dim and trim. he’s not at his best and neither is she. still in this truth she wanted them forever to be. she thought it was enough to keep him to see only her.

she’s in a routine. That’s mean and lean. she feels unclean.

she’s 17.

she’s 17.

she’s 17.

their union actuated his swing to make her sting. his pendulum is a continuum of confusion because she’s the wrong she. he sees she shouldn’t be wearing his ring. she was the talk of the town forever in her head. all she got was seconds then everything became dead. he’s heavy lead that poisons her eyes, because of the world she’s poisoned by the mystery of his history. he’s not the same. he’s decreasing as she’s releasing what she can no longer salute in a mute.

she’s in a routine. That’s mean and lean. she feels unclean.

she’s 17.

she’s 17.

she’s 17.

there’s nothing truthful or fruitful about this forced alliance. even popularity can no longer keep this silenced. Popularity isn’t God. If God is your proven solution, then God controls your swing. she needs to surrender to reject her recurring stings.

there’s a shaking hinge that makes her binge. on the addictions that took her to her predictions. what worked for her, is now what’s stopping her. she’s not in ease because she feels like she cannot breathe. the strong in this walk of wrong is not in ease. she’s all talk. she needs to release. she’s screaming at an internal high volume. But her external cry is a silent consume. she cannot press play on resume. there’s no use. the lie in this dance is just a ruse.

he doesn’t love her.

she’s in a routine. That’s mean and lean. she feels unclean.

she’s 17.

she’s 17.

she’s 17.

she doesn’t feel seen, heard, or covered. her routine in his lean of mean in feeling unclean. despite her legal title, she’s in a wrong cycle. in her mind, the time is binded. but she’s dying inside of her winded alignment. he doesn’t see her because he doesn’t want her. it’s a hallow swallow she decided to follow. Permanently because she didn’t chose eternity. she chose him. the slim and trim that’s a rapid wildfire radiating rust. he feels like he will combust. she triggers his radiating rust. his flesh. she triggers his flesh. There’s no God in flesh. There’s no God in them.

she’s in a routine. That’s mean and lean. she feels unclean.

she’s 17.

she’s 17.

she’s 17.

her world and his still cannot collide. she feels in time if she still hides, then her lie will be justified. But God is her Cornerstone Best, that she shut out for his worldly rest of flesh. he’s not God’s best. he’s just a painful test.

she cannot rest because this truth hurts. this truth has so much supernatural and tangible proof. she’s still choosing aloof. she’s seeing and being, her moment with him that truly expired. her replay made her grim. this reality makes him slim and trim. she sees their problems that’s a fire. A fire she can put out. truthfully, she’s an expired reason, that’s overstaying as a legal season. But if God is her problem, then only God is her solution.

she’s in a routine. That’s mean and lean. she feels unclean.

she’s 17.

she’s 17.

she’s 17.

To end this loop, she must bow down and decide to be only God’s Troop. The truth is the truth. What’s done in the dark always comes to light. Only God has the paintbrush. she won’t win this fight. this legal chaos isn’t a stroke of luck, it’s deliberate permitted actions to conduct a message by God cleaning the insides out of their emitted lessons. Regardless of their pouts and shouts. Every knee bows. God’s Will is always done. The Rushing Wind is here. Regardless of their fears, and all her tears hidden by her silent years. these pale scales can no longer prevail. the whale will spit them out. The tears are happening to that veil. this ship will never sail. his weary winks are a symboled message of their unavoidable sink.

Selah.

Flesh

Do not harden your heart when we hear His voice…Hebrews 4:7. This scripture power jumped out and was brought to life, which is why I’m typing biblical journaling now. Words swim in my head, and I discern and pray to my King, when and where should these words be brought to life. 

How many of us out here are blatantly ignoring your voice God? The way our flesh executes, this disobedience looks very sparadic. Flesh today is mirroring to the book of revelations. Total chaos, man playing gods by creating, their own deluded duplication, of what their life should look like. All because we ignore your voice God. The bottom line is, we think we are better gods than you Precious Creator. And so many of your children, practice this act of flesh god for various reasons. The commonality remains the same: fear. 

So many of us are running from our callings, or the promptings of whom you picked for us, because your will doesn’t fit our expectation, or we are just too afraid to speak up and say, “God told me _____.” The flesh is so weak. We are flesh. We are broken made to peace, but only achieve this believe of peace, through the surrender and acceptance of your will. Anything else is a cheap imitation with suffocating limitations. The bottom line is, we are all caught up in afraid to admit, that we understand God’s voice. Because God’s voice in our lives does not match popularity and worldly status. 

We don’t want to hear, “that’s just a feeling,” or “clearly you’re wrong.” This is being expressed from spiritual leadership. What if we are not wrong and we are the ones in spirit? What if said leader is wrong, and the one operating in flesh? Control is flesh. Fear is flesh. Being a creature of habit is flesh. Avoiding growth, through never embracing changes, new seasons or people? That’s definitely flesh too. So what happens in these very real cases then?! Church hurt is real, and so is spiritual warfare, which isn’t discussed enough. There’s a dangerous dismissal, of the seriousness of spiritual warfare. 

Well disguised distractions, in our lives, are also very real; we could be too caught up in scales, to push through, and prevail by allowing God to tear that veil. We could be wrongfully guided, to abide in what God is telling us to exit, because we should have never entered in the first place. Because we ignored God’s warnings and chose flesh instead. Then what shall we do as your fellow chosen then? 

We press on, boldly not coldly, to trust and believe, for your ways are higher than our ways. Isaiah 55. You make a way God, when there seems to be none. If you can part the Red Sea in Exodus? Then nothing is too big for you God. You have all over our blueprint, known as The Holy Bible, that you speak to all of your children intimately, and specifically. Everyone thought David was crazy but he beat Goliath. David didn’t put man above the word, you spoke to him no matter the pushback. David was obnoxiously bold in his walk and faith. That couldn’t of been easy for David. Imagine being young, trusting God and His voice above anyone, that rejects this truth, because they are in their flesh?! That was David’s walk. He wasn’t the only one. Abram who was rich, with a world of gods and lots of flesh, chose to trust God. He followed God’s voice and he was alone. 

Abram became Abraham, because of his radical faith. He was flawed too, and went ahead of God even in his radical faith. The flesh is very weak. We as humans are flesh, and are very weak. That’s how the son he had outside of Sarai, (who later became Sarah) was born. Flesh. Impatient, and dangerous flesh, caused Abraham to go ahead of God. God still only blessed Isaac, because only Sarah was Abraham’s soulmate. Not Haggai. God ordains one woman and one man, no matter what the humans execute in flesh. 

Abraham didn’t even get to live, to see all the promises that God kept his word on. Abraham didn’t choose his flesh in faith, he walked in spirit to climb to faith. Despite his moments in flesh, Abraham still chose God and the voice of God. Everyone thought Abraham was crazy. When God told Abraham and Sarah they would conceive, when Abraham was 100 and Sarah was 90, they both thought God was crazy. But it happened. The brokenness of humans, and their routinely flawed habits created a perversion of us dismissing supernatural, as “spiritually weird,” or “crazy.” Because it’s not popular, or tangible as a human of flesh, we dismiss supernatural. I’ve dismissed supernatural far too many times in my life. I’m in my own supernatural wrestle with God, regarding this ribcage He keeps showing me, and telling me about. But I chose to fully trust God yesterday, as I was walking home, and my Holy Spirit was on fire, by denying my flesh, and no longer choosing to run, or feed fear. I sit in stillness to allow God to work and move. God’s timing, and God’s will.

Abraham didn’t choose what was easy, convenient, what looked good, or what was popular. Abraham choose to trust God, when no one could confirm what God told him. That’s because no one was supposed to. No one can confirm what I’ve been wrestling with either. And God made that clear to me that I wouldn’t receive that. Blind faith and pushing through this wilderness like the vessels in Exodus, was where I was at too. Fasting, praying, and mediating on my word was all I had to cling to. What if God pressed something, on so many of our hearts that no broken man that is naturally flesh, can confirm? Do we dismiss what God says, because we don’t have an audience of flesh, confirming what God said? Sadly all too many times we as your chosen, fall into this space of ignoring what God says, and believing what man in flesh says. Because it’s popular, and we are afraid to go against the grain. It’s easy to talk a walk. But actions behind words is a rarity.

Noah saved humanity, because he trusted what you spoke into him, and he also got a lot of pushback. Everyone told him he was crazy. But Noah chose to trust how you spoke to him no matter what. Moses didn’t want his calling, he ran, and ended up running right into you, to ultimately execute exactly what you told him to do God. And Moses got a lot of pushback too. A lot. Joseph was shown a vision, and it didn’t come into fruition until 13 years later. He kept believing despite all the pushback hurdles he faced. 

Joseph also saved humanity, because Joseph chose to trust what you’ve shown him no matter what. Saul became Paul, the author of most of the books of our New Testament. The same Saul that killed thousands and thousands of Christians, is the same Saul that transformed into Paul. Saul became Paul through the wrestle of Jesus’ love. Love will always win. God is love. 

Simon became Peter, through the wrestling with Jesus. We all wrestle with God, but God always wins no matter what we execute in flesh. Pushback is the pruning process to fine tune, who we are called to be as your vessels. It’s a wilderness of wonder, and it only feels wonderful, if we keep pushing through to see the other side. Being at a place where we trust God, above all of broken man that’s flesh, is a space God longs us all to be. It’s a space I finally am in, and that’s all through God’s overflowing well of grace.

Man breaks and takes. God heals, reveals and restores. We are flesh, therefore we are flawed, and will get it wrong, flesh is a loop that hurdles together in a poisoned horde troop. Like attracts like. The wrong song, is strong in a deluded troop of that broken loop of flesh. Confess so that God can profess and move on our behalf. The flesh is weak. The flesh is a constant attack of setbacks, that could very much feel like God. But it’s the wrong boom boom to stay in tuned to. We cannot move on feelings, we need stillness. satan is restless and chaotic. God isn’t.

Be still and know I am God. Psalm 46. the enemy is not still and never will be. God is. There’s no need to rush into anything. WAIT. I wait on everything. God spoke something to me, to tell a specific spiritual leader, and I sat on this prompting for two years. Then I went to that spiritual leader. But spiritual leaders are flesh too. And because of the special calling on spiritual leaders lives? There are attacks and setbacks. Spiritual leadership is its own wonder of wilderness, that is completely avoided. 

No wonder the call to ministry is avoided. But God wins and we don’t run forever, we can’t. We only experience true happiness  in the presence of God’s will in our lives. Church hurt is real, and not meant to be concealed, or swallowed in a hallow of nothingness. Be bold and brave, and stay committed to looking up. You don’t understand now, but later you will. John 13. Trust and believe saints. Thank you Holy Spirit. In Jesus name, amen. 

Consistency

I had consistency with pain for about three years now. I feel like Paulina, which is my female version of Paul the author of most of our New Testament. I’m so fired up in tired. Work is exhausting. Too many humans are being kinetic in robotics. They all started looking like those dead water bugs, in my Stillness dream I had the other day. Multiplying by following the wrong master: the world/the enemy. 

See this is why I’m wrestling with you God so hardbody; you keep wanting me around humans that want to be spiritually dead. And when I rise above in love, as the daughter to you Highest King…. Your Precious Humans give me lots of pushback, that make my flesh wants to just punch them in the face. Like I always see moments of punching, or kicking a human lately. Clearly I’m not happy, about how you’re pruning me for patience, grace, and stillness. There’s a consistency in that front with you God. Everyone around me is ‘abiding’ in flesh, with no confesses, yet there’s these worldly professes. I’m supposed to just fall in line in? I refuse. Plus you’re not telling me to God, and you’re not allowing me to give anyone other than Jojo* a piece of my mind. That’s kind of annoying. 

Lately we’ve been fighting so badly. Like yesterday was just a mess. I deeply dislike fighting with my best friend. The only beautiful woman of God, that literally turned on the light, and showed me the love of Jesus. Everyone else in my life at the time, showed me a dilution of their broken solution, to what salvation is. I knew deep down it was all nonsense, and I was tired of the Kool-Aid hype. That’s why I wanted it all to end. Where I ended up next, after Earth had to be better than the nonsense that surrounded me. That’s why dying made sense.

Then came Jojo* fierce, loyal beautiful daughter to you God, that unashamedly praises your name, and spreads the gospel. She’s so strong, and doesn’t get how strong she is. It bugs me so much that she doesn’t see it. I keep telling her she’s stronger than me. Because: She’s still a virgin for her ribcage, that I’m so over, but you’re God and not me. He doesn’t deserve the greatness she is now, nor does he deserve the butterfly, you’re pruning Jojo to be as she soars in your wings God. 

He’s a fool. That swears he’s cool and that’s the biggest joke ever. Yeah I’m sorry but not sorry about stepping out my Christ-like lane, by keeping it 1000% right now and saying he’s lame. There’s a hype on that dude that I’ll never understand. Ever. There’s a hype on that so called ribcage you say is mine too God. I didn’t get the hype when you showed me him, and I don’t get it now. He didn’t change. He stayed the same. They both did. What’s being displayed now, you already showed me regarding my ribcage October of 2013 when I meet him. I was so pissed, because I just spent two hours praying to you on what I didn’t want. And you showed me that list in him. And furthermore I’ve been fighting you about him ever since. 

Don’t you get God that son of yours wants to be spiritually dead, sniffing Kool-Aid, and loving his lies. So let him. Bye. I’ll soar in the sky in your wings. You don’t want to give me a new ribcage? Fine, that’s cool. I’ll be single. I’m good at it anyway. I refuse to let the toxicity of his choices ever enter my space, absolutely refuse to put up with the brokenness that your broken daughters put up with when it comes to him. Luke 7, was a chapter that I mediated heavy on when it comes to this son of yours. It’s so hard buying he’s coming to me. What I see gives me high anxiety and flares my panic attacks. That’s not of you God. So you just need to tell me that I’m wrong. And stop telling me to trust you, you’re working it out and to be still. I don’t want to hear that.

I don’t want to, this dude is chaotic with a broken fanbase that eats up his lies. I’m so baffled by the fact no one sees through the bull?! Why do Jojo and I see it? About this ribcage you say is mine and her ribcage to? We were both like heck no, we said yes to you to be shown that?! Like I don’t get it. Jojo doesn’t get it either. And that fanbase they both have!? From broken daughters that think worldly attractions like status and money is the way to go. My beautiful sisters it’s not. It’s the way to losing yourself and perishing. Besides tap into your lady boss, and make your own empire. Don’t wait on a dude for something you can do. Ever. Dudes that aren’t aligned to God as broken vessels, will break and take nonstop. 

That’s what I see in this ribcage of mine, and in Jojo’s: broken boys in men’s body’s wired to just take and break, and it’s being celebrated. I’m beyond too through. Thanks for finally allowing us to leave, and acquire a spiritual meal that will actually feed us. Thank you God for pruning both Jojo, and I to keep our eyes fixed on you no matter what. 

What is the purpose of the pushback, and this wait thing that I’m not happy about, and neither is Jojo. We’re so over it. The blocking of the businesses, we’re meant to create is just annoying. Jojo and I are builders. We can build empires. Yet you’re saying wait on two broken boys that don’t want to man up, and be who you’re calling them to be. Okay, bye, keep pressing play on die and lie. Jojo and I choose to press play on truth in His Proof. They are absurd and unfair. I’m over it. And so is she. 

Love is dumb. Their punk actions made love dumb for me. Completely perverted, and destroyed love for me. I’m good. Like seriously. Keep me single at this point. I’m good at it, and you won’t let me get a new ribcage. You’ve made that very clear with my Transform post. Okay. Message received. 

But what’s up with this recurring cartoon dream, I’m getting about two rats. Like I am not clear on what you’re trying to show me or tell me. Oh sidebar, I find it very annoying God, that you enter my earth dad at times I don’t want to hear him sharpen me. Like yesterday night as he came into my room, when I ignored him and proceeded to tell me it’s not Christlike to fight with your sister Jojo* nobody asked him. At all. I understand he’s right but my flesh wasn’t trying to hear him whatsoever. The attacks are so real. 

Thank God Jojo and I made a pact in the beginning of our sisterhood, to never stay mad at each other. And for the most part we don’t. I surrendered walking away from her when she makes me spaz, like yesterday. It’s wrong and a punk move, so am I really in the right to call your sons punks and messes, that need to stay far away from me and my sister? No I’m not. We’re all broken made to peace. I’m very broken. Such a hot mess that God is working on. Jojo is very broken and also a hot mess that God is working on. So our ribcages being broken messes made to peace makes complete sense. Jojo and I can’t stand how it looks. Three years is a long time so like God… What’s up!? Seriously. And the testing at work too!? These back to back pruning processes are so real. 

So this recurring rat cartoon dream happened after bible study at 3 am this morning. I was meditating on Galatians 5:22-23, because I haven’t been very good at surrendering to the Holy Spirit of truth. I’ve just been reacting in flesh lately, cultivating barren fruits. I’m tired of rising above, it feels like it’s in total vain. It feels like all this pain has no gain, everywhere I turn people are in flesh. 

People are being celebrated for doing the wrong thing. People are turning a blind eye, and staying silent about the wrong couples walking into a marriage that only God ordains. Broken humans playing God is not God’s Will. There’s too many broken humans in spiritual leadership positions, that are guiding your confused children in the wrong marriage God. Why is that happening!? It’s not fair. At all. 

I’m tired of seeing this blatant disrespect in the sanctity of marriage. It’s tainting me. It’s making me not believe in love anymore. In fact I no longer believe in three strands life for myself. This wrong couples theme that blatantly gets married, boldly and coldly, and get publicly celebrated? I’m too through. Love ain’t for me. It’s okay. You’re still awesome God. I still say yes to you. And I still trust you. Just stop telling me about that guy. And you and I are totally straight. 

So I’m asking you why I’m having this recurring cartoon rat dream, and you’re saying it’s because I’ve animated all the hurts and issues I’m going through. Okay. Well just get rid of my problems God. Telling me about a broken guy that fights to stay in his flesh and gets supported in that fight is a problem. Allowing annoying people at work to put me on this high standard when there are other humans who’ve been teaching, a heck of a lot longer than me is a problem. 

I’m a hot mess and flawed, why am I being set apart!? For what, it’s just adding stress to my issues I already have. I’m not interested. At all. Why can’t you just do what I want God?! All this slow build up attention happening is whack. The enemy entering that cartoon dream last night, was a joke. I see satan as a joke that can’t touch me. 

But he’s touching me through this ribcage you keep saying is my mine God. he’s attacking me through Jojo, my brother, my father, my mother and a lot of other people I love. That really pisses me off God. All I can do is pray and be still, as I watch all these heartbreaking train wrecks that I cannot physically help. You won’t let me God. That hurts and bugs me so much. This is very hard. But all I can do is keep praying, and asking you to show me how to be better in love, grace, patience and stillness. 

Thank you God for being the best soundboard I can ever ask for. You always point me in the right direction God. And thank you for my bestie Jojo, Ana* my weekend prayer warrior I love to pieces. It sucks she no longer lives in New York. Last but not least my B* she’s the bomb.com, I’m so glad we’re getting closer and closer. 

You really blessed me with an amazing circle, of real sisters and not fake kool-aid drinkers. I’m so grateful for Benjamin* too. Like other then what you keep telling me about this ribcage guy. I don’t have much complaints. The work stuff I can suck it up, and just do what I’m told. This ribcage guy makes no sense. It’s mutual by his actions he doesn’t want the burning bush of rapture with me. Fine, then don’t come. Free will is not forced. At all. I’m at peace with his decision. What I’m still perplexed about is still receiving information about him. But at this point all I can do, is just be still and wait to see what you’ll do God. I love you my Constant One. Thank you for all our fallen heroes who are gone but not forgotten because of 9/11. Thank you for making us more sensitive after the painful senseless deaths of 9/11. Thank you for stretching my faith to climb to the hope that unity will be a human truth one day. Thank you for your consistency in everything love in my life God. Love your daughter Crysta.

*names changed for privacy purposes. #TeamProPrivacy