Anna Rountree #fundie mobile.facebook.com

After we arrived in Paradise, I found that I was sitting alone near a clear, round pool of water. On the opposite side of the pool, shrubbery was growing in geometric shapes—squares, rectangles, triangles, and circles. These shapes were reflected perfectly within the pool. Stacte was blooming behind the geometric shrubs. Each of these bushes was covered with waxy white blossoms that gave a mild, pleasant fragrance. I remembered that stacte was a spice used in the holy incense. But I could not remember the meaning inherent in its name. It was unusually still by the pool, like being in the eye of a hurricane. I swung my legs around, putting my feet into the water. They hardly made a ripple. Strange.
“Where am I?” I asked aloud.
“The pool of reflection,” a child’s voice answered from behind me.

CRYSTAL CLEAR

“Uh oh,” I said within myself because I recognized the voice. “Crystal Clear,” I smiled faintly as I turned to face her. There she stood, her hair still tousled as if from play. She was wearing the same pale shift and pinafore. She looked five or six years of age. However, she had old eyes. At times I could see through her arm or leg. She was a spirit. “You have come back to see us,” she exclaimed cheerily. “We L-O-V-E, love you,” she continued, spelling out the word love as if it were in a child’s song.

I sighed painfully within myself as I remembered the last time I had seen her. “But,” I thought, “perhaps this time will be different.” I decided to ask her about the pool. “What is the pool of reflection?”
“It is a place where you can see yourself very clearly,” she said.
I was not sure that I liked that idea. “Does one wish to reflect upon oneself?” I asked coolly, my flesh suddenly rising up and being as sly, legalistic, and evasive as the flesh always is.
She continued as though she did not notice. “You might want to take a look to see if you are cooperating with God or resisting Him. Do you want to look into the pool?” she asked brightly.

THE DECISION

Of course I did not want to look into the pool. However, I was beginning to hear in my own voice, as well as in the hardness of my heart, my resistance to correction.
Shortly before arriving at the pool I was telling the Lord that I would give up anything and everything in order to gain more of Him. Now with my first opportunity to allow this declaration to become experiential in my life, I was balking. “Do you think I should look?” I asked limply.
“It might help,” she replied.

With a sigh I took my feet out of the water and lay down on my stomach to look into the pool. I was amazed. I saw Jesus’s face reflected in the water instead of my own. But there were geometric objects stuck onto His head and face. “What are these objects?” I asked.

“Blocks,” she said. “You are blocking Him. They make the face of Jesus look really ugly.”
“How do I get them off?” I asked with alarm.
She leaned over to look at my face in the pool. “Hmmm,” she said, as if making a diagnosis. “You need to unstick the glue.”
“Unstick the glue?” I asked. “How do I do that?”

REPENTANCE

“Repentance,” she said matter-of-factly.
“Repentance unsticks the glue.”
She pulled back to look at me directly instead of at my reflection. I sat up to look into her face. She shook her head from side to side as children do when correcting one another. Speaking in a slow, singsong manner, she said, “You’re too old to play with blocks.” Before I could answer her, she vanished.

STACTE

The strong smell of stacte flooded the area. I looked at the bushes. The fragrant gum was running down the branches. “Truth with mercy,” I said glumly, remembering now the inherent meaning within the name.

With a sigh I turned back to the pool. I looked into the water again. ‘The face, and therefore the life of Jesus, was definitely blocked from flowing to others. I gathered the courage to look at the blocks more closely. Each had writing on it. I squinted to decipher the lettering.

The BLOCKS

“Hypocrite” was written on one block. “Hypocrite,” I said with self-righteous indignation. Although indignant, I dared not try to refute this because I knew it to be true. ‘That which people on Earth might not see was plainly visible in heaven. Perhaps I might hide this from others, but I could not hide it from myself or from God. “I am a hypocrite”, I said, and You see it. I say that I am doing what I do out of obedience, not caring about the results, but I do care. I care greatly. I want success. I want to feel that I am accomplishing something.” I could not look at that block any longer.

I decided to look at another block. “Money” was written on it. “Oh, no,” I moaned. “Well, it is true. I say that I do not mind being poor, but I mind a great deal. I do not like being poor. I know that to live by faith pleases You, and I want to please You. But truthfully, it is easier to talk about faith than to live by it. At times I think, ‘If I just had enough money, I would never need to think about money again.” My confession made me uneasy. decided to look at another block.

“Being a star” was written on this block. My hands went to my face in embarrassment. True again, I confessed. It is difficult for me to live a hidden life. I want respect. I want honor. I want to be known. I want...” I almost said “glory.” As I confessed this sin, I was struck by the seriousness of it. “God, help mc,” I said. “I want Your glory” I shook my head. “This is serious, very serious. How have You taken me as far as You have taken me? How can You love me? How can You want me to be Your Son’s bride? In my spirit I know that I want to be on the inside that which I present on the outside. I know that I want to live by faith. I know that pride is a great sin. satan wanted Your glory. How am I better?”

The BLOOD

Saying that galvanized my thinking. “I am in a better place before You, Father, for my Lord and Savior died to release me from the penalty of death due to sin. And I can plead the blood of Jesus before You and ask that You forgive me for every sin, as well as for every transgression. I can proclaim to You that the Holy Spirit was sent to apply the cross to every act of the flesh within me.” I am in a better place.

“Then, Daddy,” I cried, “I ask for correction by the Holy Spirit. I ask for the cross. I ask that I be clean inside and outside. I want the life of Jesus to flow through me unhindered. I mean, Daddy, that I do not want one hindrance. I give You permission to bring me into a pure walk before You. I know it will hurt. I know it. But I give You permission to ignore my whining.”

TEARS

“O God, do not leave me as one dead.” I began to cry. “Forgive me. Wash me clean with the blood of Jesus—He who paid the ultimate price with His shed blood and death on the cross so that I might stand before You clean, in His righteousness.

I continued, “Deal with my flesh. Override my protests. Discount my whimpering. Please, please do not let me go around this mountain one more time. I do not want to live a halfhearted life, compromising at every turn because I do not want the pain of the cross.” I wept bitterly. “And I miss Jesus,” I cried. “I am in pain when we are apart!”

I realized suddenly that a very bright angel was near me catching in an alabaster bottle every tear that I cried. The tears would start down my cheeks and then automatically, obediently even, go into the vial. I was fascinated.

ANGEL OF PRAISE

I was so fixed upon this sight that I jumped a little when my name was called from behind me. It was Judy, the angel of praise.

She was dressed in a gossamer green under tunic bound with a golden girdle. Over this was a deeper green cloak that had long, oversized sleeves. These sleeves contained pockets that held all manner of golden musical instruments. Her neck, hands, and feet had a slight tint of gold. Her auburn hair was plaited into seven loops interlaced with gold. On her forehead was a small golden box, housing Scripture. She began to speak. “Anna, rejoice that you are loved. I am sent to comfort you with the mantle of praise.”

“What is that?” I asked, wiping my eyes with my hand. The bright angel with the vial for tears disappeared.

HYMN OF PRAISE

“Shh,” she said, putting her finger to her lips. “Let me help to calm your soul. Rest.” She became a small, green whirlwind. The wind and movement caused all the instruments within her robe to play together. The sound of praise was so pure that it seemed to draw angels from the air. They gathered in a large circle around her. She began to sing:

O great I AM, Eternal One,
Fountain of life within the Son,
Wellspring of blessing,
Wellspring of light,
Infinite mystery hid from our sight.
Searched by the Spirit,
Revealed through the Son,
Mystery unfolding, though ever begun.
Beginning and ending, great circle of light
That shatters the darkness, confounding the night.
All beauty, all joy, all splendor in One,
His grace freely shared through the life of His Son.
His life and His death and His life evermore,
Though crucified ever, to die nevermore.
All hail, Great Redeemer, All hail, Mighty King
Of Life and of Truth and of Light do we sing.
All praise, adoration, and thanksgiving,
Through time never ending, our homage we’ll bring.

GALBANUM AND CASSIA

As she sang, the aroma of galbanum and cassia filled the air. Galbanum bespeaks worship, adoration, thanksgiving, and praise.’ Cassia urges homage to God alone. I needed both. I needed the idols in my heart to be cast down. Also, I needed to be lifted up, out of myself; through turning my eyes toward Him in praise. Her song was like a mantle dropping upon me—lifting my spirit but settling my soul.

At the end of the song, the many angels that had gathered withdrew discreetly. Judy spoke. “Worship God, Anna. He alone is worthy.” Then she too disappeared.

GOD AT WORK

I was alone again. But the stillness near the pool was no longer a vacuum. It was closer to the stillness within my soul. The Lord had accomplished a work within me, although I did not know the nature of the work or how He had accomplished it. But I felt that I could see more clearly, that in some way I was different. The answer seemed simple. Jesus overcame the flesh when He walked the earth. Now He could overcome the flesh in me. He would work, and I would rest in Him. I felt cleansed, washed, with my soul as still as the round pool before me. However, the stilling of my soul made room for a greater longing for Him. The ache within my spirit had grown painfully acute. I missed Him. I wanted to be with Him. The pain was becoming a wracking hunger......

Seek His Face

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