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Pure. Joy.

I’m eager to see the leaves grow back.

Mid morning Tuesday November 29, 2022. Warm, but cold.

Protected. The loud woodpecker, shrieking and cackling with all his might, flew overtop the eastern ridge, claiming the whole of the territory for himself and his family. No predators would be welcome where he reigns. Something cold still falls through the air on the hollow, but the temperature is high. Rain has been falling. It is enough to fill the creek and set it in motion again. Deer hoof prints litter the road. They must have sunk into the sand a good inch down. Dark orange fruits are shriveled on their brown weedy stems. Birds will spot them soon. Nestled between three ridges and one mountain, the hollow feels like a sacred, protected, place where the birds may squawk and flutter freely. Fresh bread is baking in the cabin. It is time to head back.

This wild rose leans way out into the road

The Gospel of Matthew, chapter three

Abba Father, you amaze me. Your will will be done on earth as it is in heaven. I thank you for that. Amen.

Matthew 3:13-17 reads as if Matthew learned about Yeshua’s baptism from John’s point of view. Matthew’s work as tax collector for the Romans, gave him opportunities to meet a wide array of people, whether they were residents of Galilee or not.

And Jesus, when he was baptized, went up straightway out of the water: and, lo, the heavens were opened unto him, and he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove, and lighting upon him:

And lo a voice from heaven, saying, This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased.

John baptized Yeshua, and he walked out of the water to the shore. As John watched him walk away, the heavens opened in John’s view.

And I wonder, did John see a circular opening, as if the sky above was the floor of some unexpected realm? Where a man-like being sat watching from his cloudy throne?

After observing the heavens, John had a knowing that it was the Spirit of God who fluttered down with the appearance of a dove, and yet still a spirit. The dove-like Spirit rested upon Yeshua, and a voice came to earth from heaven.

This is he of me, beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased.

Matthew, a Jew from Galilee, was convinced by all the evidence that Yeshua was messiah. John, a Levite of a priestly family, remained a respected prophet among the people.

Life in the hollow, Tuesday

The image of Yeshua that is here on my property, has been encouraging me to not live by pattern. I should explain. There is something in my autistic mind that once I’ve done something two or three times, I have an urge, a compulsion really, to do the same thing over and again. Prayer has become short, due to giving up my patterns. Praise has been exhilarating. Yeshua sat with me to pick out some new praise music online.

Now, I do not make it my habit to say rude things to anyone, but sometimes they just fly out of my mouth without any thought whatsoever.

I told him, “You sure do like some dorky music”.

And then I heard what came out of my mouth!

What’s dorky?” he inquired.

Well, then, I was ashamed. I told him that I thought, as an adult, that the songs I sang as a child in Sunday School were dorky. I kind of got that idea as a teenager. As a teen, I left dorky stuff behind. A part of me still thinks like the person who felt awkward and stupid as a teen over childhood likes and dislikes.

Wasn’t it Yeshua who was recorded as saying, “Verily I say unto you, Except ye turn, and become as little children, ye shall in no wise enter into the kingdom of heaven.”?

“Dorky I will be,” I told him, and put a lovely video of two girls singing “Jesus Loves the Little Children” into my bookmarked praise music.

It’s one of my favorite songs,” he told me.

You won’t hear one of those loud, contemporary Christians bands repeating the line “all little children of the world,” over and again while they hop around stage with guitars and fall down in mock spiritual ecstasy.

But if you want to feel the Spirit of God descend into your praise, try singing that song as an adult.



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