confusion & cringing the journey begins
Updated: Oct 28, 2020
Too Much To Say and Too Excited To Say It!
Whenever I sit down to write I am bombarded by thoughts… what should I say? What is most interesting? What can I keep simple and poignant? What will people really enjoy reading…?
This journey of awakening has just been so ridiculously miraculous that I have no Idea where to begin… Childhood? Equippers church? Rebellion? Synchronicities? Enoch? Thomas? The other forbidden books? 1111? Physiology and anatomy? John St Julien? My intimate prayer life? War room? The sacred secretion? Vivid dreams of wonder and revelation? “Christian” Yoga? I could go on…
What I have learned is that NOTHING is what it seems and that following a dream that the Lord gave me to “Seek Vision” is the BEST thing that ever happened to me. So here is my “Seek Vision” journey from the beginning.
I grew up a fearful and timid child watching my Mum and Dad destroy one another physically and emotionally, outside the doors of our home no one knew the torment that occurred within.
My parents were pros at saving face, but I felt their pain deeply and I would cry silently… relentlessly every time I was alone desperate for the violence and sadness to end.
At the age of 11 my Dad woke my brother and I up one Sunday morning explaining that he had had a dream. The dream was about a dove and a white pillar. My Dad had decided with great conviction that the dream meant that God wanted him in church that morning and that we must all go too.
My Dad was a very loving, musically gifted, sensitive and charismatic man, but none of us dared to question his logic or decisions, a simple roll of the eyes was enough to set him off in a rage - so off we went to church.
Now, when I was a kid in the UK it was pretty standard to learn about the Noah, Christmas and how Jesus supposedly rose from the dead so that we could eat chocolate at school. But I did not know who or what God was and I’d never heard of the Holy Spirit, being “saved” or “repenting”.
So I was very shocked to see elated people dancing up and down the aisles with their arms in the air singing about how Jesus had come from heaven to earth to pay their debts! To be honest my brother and I were far from amused about the whole situation and I assumed that my Dad would not be bringing us back.
Well, I was wrong! Very wrong! Not only were we taken back once, but we attended that church regularly more than once a week for a long time… posters of scriptures went up in the house, my Mum bought a sticker saying “Don’t follow me follow Christ” to put on the back of her car #cringe, my Dad started running an outreach program for youth in deprived areas, my Mum and Dads relationship actually improved AND my Dads behavior changed...
EVERYTHING WAS DIFFERENT and although fear would not let me embrace it, I wanted to know how “God” was doing this…