…most wars are incensed and driven by propaganda through news media sources, entertainment, and (now) social media algorithms… but do we need to oblige propaganda in this way?
Still, Small Voice
Tag: mystic
Child of God
Being a child of our Heavenly Father is simple: we get to place our hand in His and copy what He does.
Into The Unknown
I don’t know how it happened, but slowly, like a dripping tap and without me being even a teensy bit aware of it, my eyes had wandered from Jesus and onto a plethora of other things. I had lost my first love. The flame in my belly had waned to but a few coals and the flicker of life had all but disappeared…
New Landscapes
How do we see the new spiritual landscape we already intuit by the Spirit of God? Where is it? And how do we get there?
And Suddenly
I was in the heart of Melbourne sitting in a Max Brenners, enjoying the company of two brilliant friends and the exorbitance of chocolate deliciousness (!), when something landed on my head. Thinking it was a bug, I did a miniature freak-out dance as I attempted to swipe / flick whatever was on my head, off…
He Has A Name
The Son of God has a name. His name is not ‘source’. It is not ‘spiritual essence’. It is not ‘an ascended master’. His name holds the highest of importance.
Perfume
The fragrance of His presence in us is captivating to others. How beautiful He is!
Words and ‘Thank You’
Because I am a words person, there are days when I hear too many words and my brain can’t keep up. This is when overwhelm can kick in. Why? Well, I muse over words. I say them. I like to savour their rhythms, intonations, combinations and meanings in the same way another might savour a fine wine or a favourite meal. Words mean something to me. So when I see words being used as weapons, it angers me…
Two Feet
The beauty of regeneration and innocence as they meet and appreciate the joy of hope.
Snapshot Glimpses
Where am I and where are You? It is as though a light switch is flicked on and my hands burn with fire. My heart gate opens. Jesus, I am enamoured with Your eyes. The deep pools; the deep wells; the deep places that eternally call to deep places. It’s funny you know, Jesus, I … Continue reading Snapshot Glimpses
