Hi, King Jesus

Hi, Lord Jesus, my curious First Born Brother, 

Today was long, Almighty God.  Work went well.  We watched the Bronco’s game afterwards.  That was nice.  I seen my mom today.  She was good.  I’m pretty tired, Almighty.

It’s nice outside.  It’s nice to keep a journal.  I think it’s the right thing to do.  Maybe not for others, but for me, it is.  

Spilling my guts is nice.  This is nice.  That is nice.  Tonight is nice.  No work tomorrow is nice.  I know there is beauty here, Almighty God.  Perhaps in my painful repentance… or just somewhere near or far.  But it’s always there.  That’s the deal isn’t it, Almighty Father?  Beauty is present.  You taught me that.  Remember when we met Phillip?  At Starbuck’s?  

     Of course You do 🙂  But You know I enjoy asking rhetorical questions.  Augustine taught rhetoric.  Phillip, King Jesus.  That was a strange days.  My days aren’t near as strange now.  I walked into Starbuck’s, and was working on my journal, peacefully and content.  I was leaning on You to heal my heart from Kaylene.  I’m really tired.  I wrote, with the Scripture opened, which makes journalling easier.  I sat at my little table coffee booth near the window that looked out onto Belt Highway.  The cover of my journal was red.  I still have that somewhere, but the writing that was in it.  I might have it.  It didn’t have very many pages left in it, King Jesus, giver of mercy.  I drank the best coffee.  Wore my collar shirt.  And after pillaging the library about everything in Colorado, I was back in Missouri, armed with knowledge, determined to get over her, and I began looking for You in my past;  it’s nice reminiscing about days past before You entered my life, looking, seeking for You, feeling diligent, attempting to “strengthen that which remains.”  I was so happy, Almighty, being there with You in our American safety.  (To most of us, King Jesus, America is the Private School and the rest of the world is Public School).  I look up from my writing.  There is a young man my age who looks up and grins.  I look down.  I look back up.  There he is, sitting across the floor of the store, grinning, and he looks down.  I look down.  I look back up and stare.  He grins and walks over.

     He sat down right next to me.  He didn’t speak.  He took out his journal and wrote, “I seek and see Jesus too.”  I marveled.  Then he started speaking.  And he spoke about things that I have never heard of before, things of Scripture that were deeper than I thought possible.  After that King Jesus my life changed.   I wish I had never met him, King Jesus.  Is that wrong to say before You?  When the saints judge the world, and I am standing there, is Phillip going to condemn me for saying that?  I remember directly after meeting him, things were really good.  My contemplative life was amazing.  But it didn’t last.  And I didn’t take notice because why?

     Did I think I was above reproach?  Above the rules?  I must have.  No other explanation suffices.  No other explanation is true.  That period, King Jesus, I need to examine.  In the future, King Jesus, these things will have been examined.  What were we contemplating?

    The night Whitney went to Paraguay (or somewhere down there), I was with You, and I walked out into the dorm public area.  Was everybody else on Spring Break?  I think so.  I was reading Paul, maybe it was Romans, King Jesus.  I marveled how Paul was my brother, my actual brother.  I know this.  Some of my brothers and sisters (most of them?) will disagree with that.  They will say, “He is your brother in Spirit, Dustin”.  But You don’t think like that, Almighty.  So why should we?  We shouldn’t think like that.  Maybe that has changed.  Remember when I was at Ozark Christian College, and it came to my attention through a sister that some people thought I was weird for calling them “brother and sister”.  I marveled at that, too.  And as I thought there, laying on the couch in the commons, with Our bible, focusing on Paul as my brother, Your Spirit became very warm and concentrated in my bosom (what I call the center of my stomach; I know that some call their bosom their chest area).  And the comfort from Your Comforter was perfect, of course, unspeakable.  I could have contemplated the comfort, Lord Jesus, but in that I am like most people; why contemplate perfect comfort when you’re busy being comfortable?  I think now I should have thought deeply about that comfort.  I did not know that in the future it would leave or be immeasurably by me diminished.  The more I thought about him, Paul, the more Your Spirit concentrated in its shape and warmth.  But just because You were concentrating Yourself in a perfect sphere around my minor sphere of spirit, doesn’t mean that I did not feel you always; I always felt You.  It wasn’t sporadic or I didn’t wait to feel You in different moments.  I probably did look weird, a little bit.  Everybody mistook me for a rich kid.  I was rich, but not in the way they were thinking.  Another moment, Almighty, like that, but the concentration was more in my mind.

     In our dorm room in Missouri, I was up late at night by myself, the most peaceful part of the day.  You remember me wondering about what things were like, exactly, before the great flood; the Noah Flood, not the flood of 1992.  When I thought about it, I didn’t try to trample on its truth with my own imagination.  Back then I was leery of my  own imagination, as the Bible teaches.  I  still am.  But I contemplated what You told us in the Word, and just waited for You to answer  lol   .   My roommates were all in utter darkness.  Both kinds.  They would walk in and say, “What are you still doing up?”  I just smiled.  I should have said, “I am fellowshipping with my Lord.  Thank you so much for asking.”  The thought was wonderful.  Of how many things and the different technologies that were there, we will never know this side of heaven.  A good older friend once told me that perhaps their technology was more advanced than ours?  And the Earth is really only around 8000 years old?  What a game changer!  And that whole experience was wonderful.  Then, around that same time, King Jesus, remember Whitney, the other one who worked at Starbuck’s, who stole my heart as the saying goes, against my will, as it always went.  

     I would drive to the biology pond.  And focus entirely on her spirit/heart, so present with mine in my bosom, the Kingdom.  And as I would focus and concentrate on her heart, of what felicity was in there, no matter how evident or manifesting, and the peace that would overwhelm me.  It was like the world faded away, You took me into Your eyes, and I was a guest on the planet, looking at things that I shouldn’t be, things that are of the end of the world:  The Book of Revelation.  It was just where my mind went.  “Maybe I can get some inside information on the end of days.”  And it was so clear, King Jesus, Almighty.  You weren’t causing one bad thing that happens in these last days.  You only told us they would happen.  And they are happening.  Your wrath will be poured out in different ways.  One way, You will take away the Restrainer.  And those will be dark days, when the man of lawlessness is revealed;  how can he not be revealed when all outside securing grace of the Almighty has come to an end, King Jesus?  Your restraining grace that most of us take for granted.  And the pain that it causes, in some way, shape or form, will lead many to repentance, in Your hope that You hope it will.  I hope it will too.  The clarity of the moment was stunning/shaking/yet peaceful.  The world that carries on will not carry on forever, as it goes.  When the restrainer leave, Almighty, will I be a monster?  Will I be one of the zombies.  Perhaps that is where those movies are coming from?  The spirits of the creators can sense that it’s coming, yet they don’t comprehend the gravity of it;  their flesh translates it into opportunity to make a film, and so the poetry of the air that gave them the sense, remains hidden still to them.  I need to go to bed.  I love You.  


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