first night in paris i

first night in paris i felt i was swimming in jesus… never felt so alive in the spirit as all night angels were trumpeting from notre dame’s roof

while dark screams charged back from the bridges. in the midst of all this turmoil there was jesus standing so near us i could almost touch Him. for here he is so physical–so bone, flesh, blood, stone. spirit life has never felt so tangible–jesus never so serious about his rulership. some places we touch the holy spirit like never before–places of saturation in revival–other places we may learn of the Father–backbone sturdy standing up–but here it is not about his kingdom; or his gifts… Jesus is being preached, murmured, announced…

a million john the baptists stand

at the gates of the city

and bend,

pointing: “make way for Him…

i must become lesser so that HE

may be greater!”

jesus was standing by us that first night as commander in chief–why the war helmets?

he stands in front of a wave of war that i have never felt so intensely before–

to win his garden back:::

he is warring off the false realities to bring her to the true reality

france was made to be a symbol, and a symbol-making nation

she needs to ground in reality; needs to be reconnected to the core of reality

she is now reflecting a number of things–even things that would be lovely–as a symbol she points to saints, angels, the kingdom, even herself (which is crippling pride). she is so obviously lovely all the nations envy her garments… but she has lost contact with the crippled and lame–and herself crippled and self-focused–even her church is separated from the Body–the rest of the church.

but he is stealing her garden so that she can know the One whose robes are splattered in blood:

he has no form or comeliness

and when we see him,

there is no beauty that we should desire him…

as priest She stands at the gate of the garden but she must encounter the brutal cross

she will know the costly stone that has been laid as a foundation–to bring her scarves to the nations that so desperately need to be given beauty–for this is her sense of justice–to bring the banquet with all the silk choreography to the famished.

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