Posts by darcydowning

A New Blog! Greater Things

The Blood Line; The Plumb Line

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To the Church in Pagosa Springs

pskey

The Key of the City

“I have sent my servants among the churches, declares the Lord, not for feeling good feelings, but for tearing down strongholds.  It is said of this town that ‘you will be a refuge in the midst of the trouble’.  It is so.  Lay your borders between each other down. Step over the lines of denomination and dare to discover more of me in and through each other! Then, you, my church will be able to stand strong and breathe deeply and become that refuge.  Those who have been the source of your resources after their dark night experience were not sent by the enemy: they were sent by me.  The dark night experiences were sent by me.  This is not impossible.  When calamity comes it binds my people together.  How much more without calamity and by choice rather than necessity.

Church, you have been in training.  I have been watching to see how you respond, not to a situation, not to each other during the situation, but how you are together after such a situation.  I have sent my prophets to the churches and through the structures of denomination to find the breaches so that the walls and barriers of denomination and religious inventions could be torn down.  Why?  So you can find each other.

Are they down?  No.  Lay down your desire to be first, to be best, to be the spiritual super power of this town.  I have orchestrated it all, not man, not sin, not the next denomination over.  A time is coming when depending on each other won’t be enough.  You must, all of you together, depend on me.  Relying on me together is your key!”

After Job had prayed for his friends, the Lord restored his fortunes and gave him twice as much as he had before. 11 All his brothers and sisters and everyone who had known him before came and ate with him in his house. They comforted and consoled him over all the trouble the Lord had brought on him, and each one gave him a piece of silver[a] and a gold ring.

I have witnessed signs in our town:  NEW ALIGNMENT and later specific light bulbs went out leaving a new message on the same roadway board: NEW ALI.

There is a NEW ALIGNMENT in the body of Christ requiring us to lay down our personal agendas, our old hurts and misunderstandings and rekindle old relationships in Christ.  We must do as Job did and pray for each other to be healed.  Job’s prayers were a necessity because of the onslaught of words that were spoken by his friends.  We have been as guilty.  It’s time to pray for each other and heal.

NEW ALI in Christ.  We need each other.  We can find each other without the pride of denomination.  Even those who have left the church to fellowship in the wilderness, declaring non-denomination have slipped into pride and built for themselves a fortified city apart.

It is Final Call hour!  Not because God isn’t gracious, but because He is gracious!  Just because we live in the mountains does not mean we will escape what is coming, even the mountains can’t be trusted, only God.

I lift up my eyes to the mountains—where does my help come from?
My help comes from the Lordthe Maker of heaven and earth. Psalm 121:1-2

Pay attention to what you hear.  Be drawn together by the Holy Spirit’s unction.  You find each other on the streets, at events, at the schools.  Listen.  Look.  Love.  How much greater if we joined together before God’s judgement fell, and He found us together, enjoying each other without argument, without borders of denomination but with the Love boundary established by God which hems us in on all sides-  a fortified city in God!  We cannot be a city of refuge if we don’t take refuge in each other!  New Alignment!  New Ali!

Graffiti HeART

A much better edit.

The Renegade Bride

Jane Art Jane Art Graffiti

Today I found graffiti penciled
on the bathroom wall
it says
I love you.

I wanted to scold you
make you clean the wall
but I think I’ll keep it there
watch it fade
as you grow taller

When I was in school
I never found such loving words etched
on metal bathroom stalls
or carefully carved on table tops

secretly I wished it was my name
carved beside some boy’s
a displaced longing for love

I wished to give my valentine heart,
and macaroni coated Christmas cards
to my mother
they never made it to the fridge for display
with sticky tape or food encrusted magnets
they merely
disappeared
scrubbed away from public viewing

When I became mom-age
I spray painted a heart over my heart
left room for your own scented marker designs
and chalk drawings

That’s when it happened
finger prints
sand shifted into…

View original post 67 more words

Graffiti HeART

Jane Art

Jane Art Graffiti

Today I found graffiti penciled
on the bathroom wall
it says
I love you.

I wanted to scold you
make you clean the wall
but I think I’ll keep it there
watch it fade
as you grow taller

When I was in school
I never found such loving words etched
on metal bathroom stalls
or carefully carved on table tops

secretly I wished it was my name
carved beside some boy’s
a displaced longing for love

I wished to give my valentine heart,
and macaroni coated Christmas cards
to my mother
they never made it to the fridge for display
with sticky tape or food encrusted magnets
they merely
disappeared
scrubbed away from public viewing

When I became mom-age
I spray painted a heart over my heart
left room for your own scented marker designs
and chalk drawings

That’s when it happened
finger prints
sand shifted into tiny colorful hand pictures
floor littered with Kleenex smile-kiss-prints
and teardrop smudged watercolor rainbows

you grabbed my hand
pulled me back from an impressionist’s rendition of love art
little finger dots
cool aide splashes
mother and daughter timelessly giggling
Monet would call it
woman and child in color
the scene did not change
but you did
and
in I-Spy fashion you saw it!

I love you too.

Bottled Water

 

Words come alive
passing from moist lips to any ear who hears
a kiss of thoughts

I died in 1993
and rose again a moment after
water cold
cleansed words scoured inside
rose like rivers in spring
and flooded
anyone who asked for directions
like miniature prophets
who hand out bottled water
on Florida streets in July

July is the anniversary of my death…

a pastor
a prophet
a homeless man

they really were three men
who looked like one in motion
pulling over at the bus stations in an old Ford pickup truck

the thirsty drank
and some died… the way I died
and words came to life
like this poet’s.

Beyond My Neighbor’s Fence

Now I remember why walls, whitewashed or otherwise, are so cumbersome…

The Renegade Bride

When I see you across denominationsImage

I miss you

hide my face behind Grandma’s Methodist bible

and secretly wish

there was no fence.

When I see you, hair flying

dripping wet in river

sand and summer

I know you carry a bucket

to share

One with the label peeled off

no price tag

no brand

just happy sand, river water

and shovels

When I hear you

I hear rivers rolling

laughing, living

beyond bank barriers

and no trespassing signs

because you…

you are welcome

to this wall-less mountain temple

to splash water

mountain air

smile sand scrubbed faces

you are welcome

to live beyond temples

city buildings, conversions of holy things

and simply be…

His brother

His daughter

His beloved

and my friend.

View original post

Beyond My Neighbor’s Fence

When I see you across denominationsImage

I miss you

hide my face behind Grandma’s Methodist bible

and secretly wish

there was no fence.

 

When I see you, hair flying

dripping wet in river

sand and summer

I know you carry a bucket

to share

 

One with the label peeled off

no price tag

no brand

just happy sand, river water

and shovels

 

When I hear you

I hear rivers rolling

laughing, living

beyond bank barriers

and no trespassing signs

because you…

 

you are welcome

to this wall-less mountain temple

to splash water

mountain air

smile sand scrubbed faces

you are welcome

to live beyond temples

city buildings, conversions of holy things

and simply be…

 

His brother

His daughter

His beloved

and my friend.

 

If I had Flowers to Lay On His Grave…

FlagNote: This began as a vision Memorial Day morning.  I was so moved by the Holy Spirit that I was prompted to act out the vision of presenting the American flag to God, our Father as a prophetic act.  I even woke up my oldest daughter and asked her to take the above picture.

I stepped into the field surrounding my home, the hem of my jeans drenched in dew.  I carried the American flag high, careful to not let it touch the ground, as I stepped through the high grass.  Cloaked in mist and early morning, I knelt in the rain soaked field.  I thought, and remembered how my father fought in the Vietnam War, a war so few talk about.  My father is still alive today and I have honored him before by giving him tulips which bloom each year.  I remembered my grandfather and how while I was in high school, he would speak in French with me because he fought there during World War II.   If I had flowers to lay upon his grave, he would probably grin and wish they were his chocolate cigars.

Then my thoughts returned to a dream I had in 1999, a dream I should have shared much sooner than this.

I was walking in a long line with a group of refugees.  Our clothes were brown, gray or colored that way from being unwashed and soiled.  Our faces were drawn and skinny and we all looked tired except for a flicker of something in our eyes.  To me, it looked like hope.  We were being led to a large ship that looked like a cargo ship or a barge that carried large equipment across the sea.  We were granted safe passage across the sea.  We were herded suspiciously gently by a group of soldiers.  As we walked, the sun was warm on my back and I passed people from my present.  They did not go with me, but faded like vapor.

Time shifted and I was now out at sea, the night and the cold pressed around us.  I was no longer a person on the ship, but a supernatural observer watching as a ghost.  Many of the refugees were standing in groups along the edges of the ship.  A whistle would blow and groups would be taken into the center of the barge down to the cargo holding floor.  The ship smelled like metal in my dream and was cold the way metal and the sea are cold when they are together.  I was on the upper level of the ship.  In this place the wives and family members of some of the soldiers traveled comfortably on small couches or chairs.  I noticed a young woman, plain in appearance, wearing a long petticoat, protectively guarding a young boy who looked the age of three.  She appeared to be trying to hide him with her petticoat.  The boy was not Polish, he was Jewish. 

Her anxiety increased as her husband, one of the officers, came to her and sternly eyed the boy.  She spoke fiercely to her husband and I understood that she was keeping him to raise for herself.  He turned on his heel, having lost the battle, but not before cautioning his wife to keep the boy hidden.  Strangely, they spoke Polish but I understood them.  Then a piercing whistle shattered the image and I was simultaneously jerked down to one of the levels overlooking the cargo floor.  Soldiers lined the second and third levels and aimed and shot their firearms, killing the refugees on the whistle blow.  The refugees were piled up like trash and heaved over the edge into ocean graves.  I watched as one woman was roughly shoved over the railing and understood her to be the mother of the child I had just witnessed.

Then I woke up.

In my awakened state, I rose from bed and went downstairs.  I knew this vision was more than a dream.  I lay prostrate before God weeping and crying out for his understanding.  He then revealed to me that the Polish woman who took the boy was one of my ancestors.  She had raised the child as her own after the Polish army fighting with the German’s had killed his mother and his people.  The boy was Jewish.  Then I heard God say,

“Three times your life was spared when you lived with your German step-father.  Your life was spared because of this woman’s choice to save the boy.”

Thus the saying ‘One sows and another reaps’ is true.  I sent you to reap what you have not worked for. Others have done the hard work, and you have reaped the benefits of their labor.” John 4:37-38

I wept, openly with remorse.  I repented for my family and relatives I never knew.  My face pressed to the carpet as I sobbed in anguish and grief for the lost life of those Jewish lives and the salvation of my own.  I thanked God.

When I got up from my prayer, I had an unusual desire to look at the calendar; unusual because it was a Sunday.  The day revealed that is was Holocaust Remembrance Day.  I sat shocked, weeping yet again at my Father’s mercy and attention to detail.

Time stopped and the hour was redeemed.  My times were redeemed (Psalm 31) because of a choice a woman made generations ago.  This is a season when God is calling forth that which was sown from generations past.  Is God that particular?  This is a place where I see the Lion of God and the Lamb, Jesus, resting side by side; redeeming one life for another, yet exercising profound judgment.  It is bold to say that God may have allowed my abuse as a youth in the German Satanic occult so that I might understand the pain and suffering endured by another tribe and nation.  I ponder this often, knowing because of the Lamb that was sacrificed for me, that I am fiercely loved by that same God.

After this I looked, and there before me was a great multitude that no one could count, from every nation, tribe, people and language, standing before the throne and before the Lamb. They were wearing white robes and were holding palm branches in their hands.  And they cried out in a loud voice:

“Salvation belongs to our God,
who sits on the throne,
and to the Lamb.”  Revelation 7:9-10

Sometimes redeeming the time is pulling from the past that which was planted so that it may produce life now.

I would never consider providing this perspective to someone who was young in their healing.  This is not about blaming oneself for their present circumstances; it is simply about  understanding why such a thing would occur with so many obvious connections.  It is conceptualizing the fear of the Lord on a personal level so that on a national level or tribal level one might consider what has been sown before.  Think of the winter seed.  It lies dormant for many winters, and might emerge only when the sun is warm enough and the rain, abundant.  It pushes through the earth when all of the season’s provisions proves ready to sustain such a seed.

Why does this matter today?

We have forsaken God as a nation.  We have become proud.  We have boasted our self-reliance.  We have taken the matter into our own hands (whatever that matter may be) and God has honored our request and left us to our own powers, our own strengths, our own conceptualizations, our very own and individual folly.  There may be grace from the prayers and godly actions of your ancestors to draw upon in this hour of judgement.  There may have been grace even from the prayers of our founding fathers.  I wonder… Can that grace run out?

Early this morning, Memorial Day, after contemplating such things, I saw myself standing at attention, carefully folding our American flag like the lieutenant who had once taught my Girl Scout troop, carefully paying attention to each fold and its meaning.  In my spirit, I knelt before God, and solemnly presented Him with the American flag.  My heart felt heavy as His sadness infiltrated my heart.  He longs for us to remember Him:

 

No sooner had Gideon died than the Israelites again prostituted themselves to the Baals.They set up Baal-Berith as their god and did not remember the Lord their God, who had rescued them from the hands of all their enemies on every side. They also failed to show any loyalty to the family of Jerub-Baal (that is, Gideon) in spite of all the good things he had done for them. Judges 8:33-35

I will remember the deeds of the Lord; yes, I will remember your miracles of long ago. Psalm 77:11

They remembered that God was their Rock, that God Most High was their Redeemer. Psalm 78:35

Remember today that your children were not the ones who saw and experienced the discipline of the Lord your God: his majesty, his mighty hand, his outstretched arm…. Deut 11:2
Remember the days of old; consider the generations long past. Ask your father and he will tell you, your elders, and they will explain to you. Deut 32:7
He remembered that they were but flesh, a passing breeze that does not return. Psalm 78:39
“On that day, I will banish the names of the idols from the land, and they will be remembered no more,” declares the Lord Almighty. “I will remove both the prophets and the spirit of impurity from the land. Zechariah 13:2

Hosea 9:8-10

New International Version (NIV)

The prophet, along with my God,
    is the watchman over Ephraim,[a]
yet snares await him on all his paths,
    and hostility in the house of his God.
They have sunk deep into corruption,
    as in the days of Gibeah.
God will remember their wickedness
    and punish them for their sins.

10 “When I found Israel,
    it was like finding grapes in the desert;
when I saw your ancestors,
    it was like seeing the early fruit on the fig tree.
But when they came to Baal Peor,
    they consecrated themselves to that shameful idol
    and became as vile as the thing they loved.

 

If I had Flowers to Lay upon His Grave

 

I would sit barefoot

tuck my skirt around my legs

and try not to pull daisy petals

to prove He loves me

 

I would notice human tears

like glass drops suspended on each blade of grass

try not to look away

from heaven’s diamonds

 

I would sigh

sing a hymn

that sounded suspiciously like

a ballad

 

I would want to dance

 

when no one was looking

I would inconspicuously twirl

smell your woodsy aroma

sun drenched hands cupping my face

 

my smiling face

because I know you dance

on grassy heaven hills

where no tomb reminisces

no epitaph summons

 

living, I wait

impatiently pacing earth

with paper wrapped flowers

crinkled and  faded

living to let go

catch your hand midair

lace our fingers together

and never let go again

 

 

 

 

 

Is there no balm in Gilead?

The time is so short. God is calling us to leave everything behind, follow Him, be healed and heal.

My Dreams and Visions

Is there no balm in Gilead? Is there no physician there? Why then has the healing of the daughter of My people not come?
(Jer 8:22)

I have been seeing this vision for a good part of the day and am up now and can’t sleep because I feel compelled to post it. Note above the scripture posted. The vision I have been seeing is of what looks like a hospital, maybe one like you would find from long ago where they would have many beds with sick people in them all in one room. In this vision there were many people and as I said previously, they were all in one room and all were sick.

I saw a man with a clip board in his hands standing in front of the beds. In the vision he wasn’t treating anyone, he was just standing there with his clipboard observing…

View original post 425 more words

The Incubator

Last night, at midnight, I peaked into our chicken egg incubator and there, hidden in the corner, upside down and caught beneath the egg prongs was a tiny little black feathered chick.  I threw my toothbrush, removed the lid and began calling the family to help me.  My oldest was with me because we had stayed up late watching Veronica Mars.  Thank God we had stayed up, or this chick would not have made it.  I am smiling right now because I can hear her clear on the other side of the house calling for me, her mama.  My husband helped to pull the front row of egg turners so I could lift her up out of the incubator.  What a way to enter the world!

Our first baby chick hatched in an incubator

Our first baby chick hatched in an incubator

We purchased this amazing incubator from a garage sale a month ago for just ten bucks.  Before that, my husband and I worked together to move, paint and prepare the old chicken coop abandoned and in disrepair on our property.  A new friend gave me one dozen of her adult chickens from which to learn- and did I ever!  I learned about predators, I learned about chicken wire, and I learned that chickens have little personalities of their own!

Snow White after healing from her dog attack.

Snow White after healing from her dog attack.

My first favorite was Snow White.  In the fall, she got sick and I nursed her back to health.  The day I returned her to the flock, a Golden Retriever escaped and killed 3 of my chickens.  I fell to my knees, sobbing when I found Snow White in the field.  I held her in my lap and wept that she was gone.  That evening I realized that another chicken was missing and I found her barely alive, hiding in the pump house.  She had a huge gouge in her back where the dog had bitten her.  I prayed as I sought answers on my favorite chicken websites.  Three days later, I returned Raven to the flock where she thrived.  She became my second favorite.  Since I bathed her and hand fed her yogurt and feed, she became my pet.  She followed me around the farm, she would jump up on the bench and stand next to me like a lap dog.  She was so sweet.  I lost her just three days ago, May 30th.

There is a reason for the saying, “Like a fox in the hen house!”  In the middle of the night, I heard a loud sound outside my bedroom window.  Then I heard a squawk and silence.  I ran outside in my mud boots and looked in the hen house.  There were 3 hens and my rooster, Chanticlear.  Raven was missing.

Chanticlear.  The new chick's daddy!

Chanticlear. The new chick’s daddy!

I ran to the front yard and found the screen on the ground.  It looked like Raven had tried to come in through my window.  A fox had come in the night and taken my Raven girl.  I tried not to cry, I mean by this time I had butchered two chickens because they became sick.  Another had been taken by that same wily fox and petite little Charlie blew away in that wind storm we had mid April.  With four chickens and a rooster I had hoped we could hatch an egg in our incubator.

God is purposeful in everything He does.  He uses everything for our good, but at the time, I didn’t believe that.  I was keeping a long list of why I wasn’t any good.  I was also keeping a long list of why others weren’t any good either.  In March, I attended a prayer meeting in town.  I arrived with the full intent to pray, but instead experienced bizarre worship that included monotone  proclamations and mash-ups of old worship songs.  It felt like theater-art rather than a prayer meeting.  It also made me sad because, unless one was affiliated with this group, and had been taught or trained, it was difficult to find any kind of common ground in Christ, and the experience was lost on anyone new to Christianity.

However, since God knows what He’s doing and uses “all things for my good,” he used this moment to speak through a friend.  She eagerly sat next to me and said, “Do you feel like you’re in an incubator?  I look at you and see this beautiful golden orb.”  At that point, no one knew about our new incubator.  We had the incubator, but hadn’t placed any eggs and I understood that her words were prophetic.  I took the image home with me and thought about its meaning, talking with God all the while.  I considered how difficult my inner dialog had been lately, and how tattered my self-perception had become.  I felt like I was stuck in the muck of popular opinion

The list of people’s opinions of me was long.  Since my youth, I have felt the need to defend myself to “The List Keepers.”  Have you ever noticed how once you challenge those lists of judgements everyone starts pecking at you at once?  In the middle of my incubation time with God and the pondering of the records kept by so called experts, I sought counsel of my own, letting off some steam, in hope for some encouragement. I was told by a pastor, “Why don’t you quit!?”  Ouch!  Not at all what I needed.  But, it was as though I was handing him an autograph book filled from beginning to end with people’s opinions and judgements of myself.  Please sign here your list of disapprovals.  People seemed to come out of the woodwork all at once to tell me what a mess up I was, what a mistake I had turned out to be, “You need to work on yourself,” filled the pages.  A metaphorical skulk of foxes, and not so lightly veiled I might add!

What is this lesson God?  Then understanding dropped into my heart, invaded my soul and cleared the fog of judgement and self-hate from my mind.  I have kept a list of my wrongs.  In my mind, I was everyone’s enemy, my own worst enemy.  I might as well have posted my failures on facebook for the world to see!  Not good enough, not believable, untrustworthy, failure, resented, hated, not pretty enough, not perfect, mistake maker, and the list goes on.  Then, in the middle of my incubation period, God spoke:

Darcy, do you know the love verse?  

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.  It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.  Love never fails. 1 Cor 13: 4-8

“Yes, I know that verse.”

Do you know this verse?

 “God is love.”  1 John 4:8

“Yes, Lord, I love that verse.”

Then, if I am Love, this is true:

God is patient, God is kind. He does not envy, He does not boast, He is not proud.  He does not dishonor others, and is not self-seeking, He is not easily angered, He keeps no record of wrongs….

He keeps no record of wrongs.  He keeps no record of wrongs!

The truth of those words landed squarely in the middle of my personal list of failures and inadequacies like an arrow in a bulls eye.  If God keeps no record of wrongs, then why do I?

I made two lists; one of the record of wrongs others keep of me, and the other of my own list.  Then… I tore them up!  I don’t have a girl-ripping-up-piece-paper-18395848record of wrongs.  I don’t need anyone’s record of wrongs because my page is empty.  The amazing thing is, I also had a little record of wrongs saved for later about why the eggs won’t hatch.

  • The incubator was too hot a few times and I probably cooked the chicks.  
  • There isn’t enough moisture in the air in the incubator.  
  • The eggs probably aren’t even fertilized… yata, yata, yata.

Well, remember that God works all things together for our good (Yeah it’s true!  Check out Romans 8:28)?  Even the bad things, like foxes in the hen house; God will use them for your good!  So, Guess who was the mama of that little chick that hatched?

The evidence of New Life!

The evidence of New Life!

Raven!

God is so tender hearted to care for us like that.

New life abounds and doors open when we hear God, flap our wings and Live!