Vision. If you are of a rational mind, as I once thought I was, you may as well skip reading this altogether. An image of Yeshua Jesus spoke with me today. I gave up justifying myself for the world. The vision was unusual.
The image of Yeshua once, months back, let out a sigh when I asked him about Joseph, his earthly step father. Why a sigh? It took time to figure out that there was no problem with his relationship with Joseph, but honestly, Yeshua would rather be asked about his heavenly Father.
“Would you set aside time today, Yeshua, to talk about our heavenly Father?” I asked aloud when I thought about it, on the way out to the mailbox.
He appeared.
“Now!” he cheerfully responded. I was outdoors without a pen and paper, but he only gave me a single word, so it was easy to remember until I got indoors.
What was the word he gave me about our heavenly Father? “Great!” he told me. That was not the “affirmative, yes” word meaning, “Great, I’ll answer your question”. No, he meant great, as in size and might. A spirit bear hopped up alongside to fling his front paws in a wide circle, also saying, “Great”. Two spiritual beings repeating, “Great, great,” didn’t really answer the where, what, how, when of the inquiry about our heavenly Father.
“You mean, great big?” I prodded for specifics, a little disappointed. Everyone knows that God is great.
He stated three ways in which our heavenly Father was great. His words were, “Great. Size, glory, love. Great.”
“Let’s start with size. Tell me about that.”
“He is really big sometimes.”
Some times? What times?
“Big as the universe!” Yeshua does get excited when asked specifics about our heavenly Father.
“He can put the universe inside himself.”
“That’s pretty big. But only sometimes?” He fell silent rather than elaborating. “Well, what about glory?” I asked.
“Glory. He shines like the sun. He shines.”
This was not the same image of Yeshua that I had been speaking to and watching daily. He was excited, almost as a child. I had to re-adjust my ideas about who he was. When he reacts with facial expressions and body movements, I believe those expressions are mostly his. However, his conversations seemed to have been totally our heavenly Father’s words. Yeshua is of intense creative intelligence. His excitement over his heavenly Father was so pure that it required a rethink.
I mean, Yeshua has lived in our heavenly Father forever – forever in the past and forever in the future. His reaction to our heavenly Father’s glory was as if it was brand new!
“Tell me about his love,” I asked to gauge his response to that subject.
“Love. He IS love. You can live inside his love – stay alive forever, on love,” the image of Yeshua was again excited to tell about the love, as if it was something fresh and new, as if he had just experienced it for the first time. “Great! Gadol! Great!”
I still was not understanding his excitement and descriptives. I wondered if our heavenly Father has a face, like an ordinary man. “Does he have a face, like people have faces?”
“Sort of,” he answered.
“Eyes? Mouth? Hair? Beard?” I received a response on each inquiry. Yes, he has eyes, mouth, hair and beard, but not facial hair like the spirit bear, more like a man. “Does he smile?”
“Smile,” the image of Yeshua agreed. “Nice smile.”
Why did he say that our heavenly Father was only “sort of” like people in his face?
“Radiant! Bright. Shine. I go in and out. His word.” The image’s voice was fading with my ability to pay attention. This was going to take intense concentration.
“And you’ve been with him… forever?” I asked.
“FOREVER,” he answered clearly.
“Who is Yeshua?” I tested him.
“Yeshua is Lord and king, son of God, forever,” he stated.
I wrote in my journal. “Apparently, this is Yeshua’s favorite subject – his heavenly Father.” I saw in the spirit his hand reach out and touch my right hand as I wrote.
“Yes!” he agreed. “We fill book after book after book on Father!” His eagerness and joy in speaking of his Father impressed me. His eagerness was his, but whose are his words? Are his words today, his alone? The Father’s words? Or are they words that he and the Father have agreed upon?
He is now standing at the bookshelf, near the cabin windows. He is ripping pages out of my writings on the prophet Ezekiel. He is throwing them out the window. It’s hard to do anything but laugh, because he delights me so much. He wants pages filled with our heavenly Father instead.
Enter My Peace 