Saying Goodbye #2: Early Homes

I had targeted today as a time I could visit some of the homes I have lived in, to say goodbye, before moving from California to South Carolina.  I whipped through the early morning obligations, then hit the road to Lynwood.

In the early 1920s, Arthur Burk bought two plots of land in the barely incorporated wheat fields, named after a local dairyman’s wife.  His body had left the Missouri Ozarks to move to California, looking for a better chance in life.  His heart never made it, and his various clunkers traversed Route 66 many a summer, going back to visit his heart.

He was so po’ he couldn’t afford the last two letters of the word – and that was before the Great Depression hit.  He was a union carpenter and made enough to start building a house on one of the lots.  He could usually afford to buy two more boards every week, after the bills were paid.

He moved his wife and mother in as soon as the house was wrapped with tar paper, and the rough subfloor was laid.  They carefully saved the tops cut out of tin cans to nail over the knot holes in the subfloor, to minimize the number of rodents indoors.

This was the house my dad was brought home to, and where we lived during our occasional furloughs.  Counting my children, five generations of Burks lived there.  I lived there when I was 3, 9, 15, 19 and mid 30s.

Lynwood is a Prophet city and never does anything by halves.  In the 1950s and ’60s, it proudly claimed the title “All American City.”  That was social code for the fact that the Whites were deeply racist, and the realtors were exceptionally committed to keeping the town White.

It was the quintessential “Leave it to Beaver” middle class city, disconnected from many realities, smug in their self-absorption.  Attractive.  Safe.  Bustling.  At risk.  Clueless.

The State of California decided to build the most expensive (and one of the most poorly built) freeways in the world, Interstate 105, which cut through the southern part of the city.

This resulted in the loss of a lot of taxable property, and the creation of low value zones next to the freeway.  The Blacks from Compton began to move into the cheap housing, driving property values down some more.

The Whites divided.  The politically and economically unengaged, fled.  White flight drove property values down fast and hard.  The White government officials doubled down on every form of political shenanigan to remain in power.

Eventually the Black community took over, the tax base crumbled, crime spiked and when my family and I last lived there, after Grandma fell and broke her hip, it was a bloody, broken town.  Drugs and violence, ugliness and hate shouted relentlessly.

Just before we moved out the last time, the Hispanics began to move in and the race wars that were slightly covert between Blacks and Whites became old west shootouts between the Hispanics and the Blacks, typical of any wounded Prophet town.

The drug trade was highly profitable.  Both sides wanted to control it.  Corruption soared.  The seven term mayor went to prison for 188 months convicted of 35 counts of extortion, fraud, money laundering and making false statements to investigators

In time, the Hispanics won.  The Blacks fled en mass.  And the middle class Latinos took over government and drove the Hispanic gangs out.  Lynwood is once again a middle class community.  No graffiti.  Lots of nice cars.  Most houses remodeled and upgraded.  Hundreds of mom and pop businesses striving and thriving as they redefine the community.

Only the proliferation of fences and guard dogs keep us aware of the fact that the cruel days are still well within memory.

Cars were more abundant than curb space.  I parked and walked back to 11259 Pope Ave.  It was nothing like when I lived there.  The current Hispanic owners had changed out all of the old windows, enlarging them, stuccoed over the wood siding, and had planted a small forest of trees on the two lots.

A LOT of money and love went into that house after we left.

The lawn was deep green, manicured and obviously loved.  Grandpa would have smiled.  He despised watering devices and treasured standing in the yard in the evening, watering with a hose.

New Windows in Old House

All New Vegetation

Papaya and Cactus in CA

I pondered my roots there.

It is a city that has produced more than its demographic share of fiercely competitive people.

Venus Williams; Duke Snider; Pete Rozelle; Kevin Costner; sundry less well known athletes and entertainers.

Grandpa was stubborn in his convictions in his own fairly quiet way.  He just didn’t budge.

When he died, Grandma stayed in the ghetto, living alone, without a dog or security system — and tried to learn Spanish in her 80s so she could communicate more lovingly with her neighbors.

And their sons, and grandchildren, and great grandchildren are not exactly blowing in the wind types, either.

It was there, in the worst years of Lynwood’s history, that I spent my three years of the dark night of the soul.  It was there, in a stupendously delegitimized community, that God met me in that historic encounter and established the core message of my own legitimacy – even while I was so broken.

I walked the neighborhood for a while.  Few things survived unchanged.  The Will Rogers Elementary school that my sister attended for Kindergarten.  The Chevron station.  And the Jack in the Box.

I went in and bought a vanilla shake I didn’t really want.  Just to spend a buck there.

But really, nothing had changed.  It is still a Prophet city.  And they have a drive for excellence.  And they have dreams and will bust their knuckles to make them come true.

New faces.  77% identify Spanish as their first language at home.  New look.  Same town.

My town.

My roots.

I had seen enough.  No need to wander through all my old haunts, like I had planned to.  Lynwood is in good hands.

God’s hands.

And I can take with me my heritage.  It was there that heaven visited my hell.

And never left.

I drove from there to La Mirada where Ann and I first lived in a two bedroom apartment.  At the time, it was called San Bruno Terrace.  It was a friendly little community.  Generic.

Pretty.  Cold. And not what I remember.  Ugh.

It was a slap in the face to see the walls, fences, gates, security cameras and nasty signage all over.  La Mirada is still a very low crime neighborhood.  What’s up with all this hostility?

I was surprised that I could not walk to the corner unit we rented.  The memories of the layout of the place are too far to the back.  Or maybe pruned.

I went back to the car and pondered who I was then.

Ann and I were young, full of love and life and we had it all together.

I worked graveyard, got off at 7:00 a.m..  I raced home to give her a kiss and the car keys, then jumped on my bike to make it to my 7:30 journalism class at Biola University, while she took the car to her job.

We had life whipped at 20.  We were devout Commie-hating Americans.  Both our dads had served in the war.  We were Christian members of the best denomination in the world.

We had drunk deeply of the mantra from both our Depression-era families:  go to college, get a job, work hard.

We had the formula.  We were going to arrive.

I remember my shock when my uncle ripped us for the unmitigated gall of having a two bedroom apartment, as newlyweds.  THEY had lived in a studio apartment and paid their dues in life, moving up slowly.  Who did we think we were?

Well, certainly not graced with any humility or poverty spirit, that was for sure.

I pondered the 20 year old I was.

Dumber than a rock.  Building castles in the air with foundations of fantasy.  Naively believing the cultural drivel.  Running headlong toward some pretty rough stuff because of cluelessness.

How repulsive.

But we were happy.  Life was good.  We drew great comfort over our deep investment in the mutually held dream that would never work.  There was an abundance of shallow joy as we crossed paths occasionally on weekends, and celebrated our dreams.

Young love.  So beautiful in its simplicity, in the years before bruises and scar tissue and fear and failure twisted it like a pretzel.

So how do I see the 20 year old me?  What frame do I use?

I don’t know.

I drove away from there deeply conflicted.

I battle sincere stupidity in others, year in and year out.  Sincere stupidity is simply not a currency that spends well with the devil or the bank or your boss.

But the (hopefully) wiser me, scarred in spirit, soul and body, lacks a lot of the ability to enjoy and love life the way Ann and I did in those early years.

How to frame it?

I drove to the neighborhood called “The Rocks” in La Mirada.  It was next to the auto salvage yard and the oil refinery.  When the wind blew from the west, we suffered through the sulfur smell that is the quintessential brand of refineries.

Back in the day, we could “assume” a VA loan without a credit check.  A vet was moving out under duress, so we hocked everything but our shoe laces and moved into our first mortgage – I mean home.

The Starter Home — 13838 Adoree Street

I began my love affair with fixing broken homes there.  “Fixing” is a very loose term.  Still there was a satisfaction over being homeowners.

The American dream was working.  We were on our way up.  Hard work was the secret and we were up for it.

During that time, I was working for a Christian organization and was struggling with the poverty spirit, dishonest handling of money and the blatant, ruthless politics going on.

At the time, I really second guessed my decision to leave there and go work for a secular company.  In retrospect today, there is nothing to second guess.  It was a good move.

Emboldened by my minor successes at patching a wall here and there, we rented that house to a bunch of Biola students and bought a mega-fixer in Buena Park.

The stucco was painted black.  The trim orange.  The yard was a jungle.  And the interior of the house needed sooooo much help.

I was full of myself.  The bank was foolish.  We bought and invested vastly more time and money than the market could bear.

Roland was born there.

And the dream began to die there.

I went through my first church split during that time and still loathe the memories of people using the Bible as a machete to slaughter others in the name of God.

I am a fighter.

But that was beyond repulsive.

Today, the property is significantly upgraded from what we invested there.  I arrived in time to watch the housewife piddling around the yard with the body language of someone who has a home, not just a house.

It was a hug.

10001 Holder Street

In the midst of the pain, there are a lot of great funny/dumb memories of all I learned about remodeling in that place.

Last stop for today was a funny little house we bought after selling the other two.

911 Lemon Street

It was a tiny old house, tucked in between two sets of apartments.  We set to work turning it into a thing of beauty.

And we did.

Such mixed emotions there.

My life was coming undone.  My emotional and physical health were quite ragged.

Through it all, I was playing as hard as I could to make the house better than it could be.

And I succeeded.  It was a lovely little bungalow when we sold it and ‘most everything else, as our family of three fled the area in dismal defeat, seeking to restart in Oxnard.

So much pain during that time, but when I look back, it is one of the most true-to-me seasons of my life.

I played to the very last down in the ball game.  Never took a knee.  I left an offering of my nature, my passion for excellence, for the next person who would never know what it cost me to finish well.

No ambiguity there.

I lost my place in the society.  A rather dramatic failure at 26 years old.

I left true to myself in one area that mattered a lot.

Much to ponder.

The seeds of the 26 year old’s failure were there in that happy, loving, visionary 20 year old.

How do I frame him?

I still don’t know.

Copyright April 2018 by Arthur Burk

Posted in Good-bye | 24 Comments

Time and Space #21: Pushing It

Broadly we have been speaking about the beauty of time and space coming into alignment in the hand of God.

And occasionally we see and feel the consequences of time and space NOT being in alignment.

The third frame is when we try to force time to come into alignment on our terms when God is not in it.

Moses did that and it ended up in murder, exile and 40 years of fairly non-princely activities before it was really God’s time.

Just sayin’

Copyright March 2018 by Arthur Burk 

Posted in Sanctifying Time | 3 Comments

3. Innsbruck Strategy – The One and the Many

“The One and the Many” is a philosophical term.  There are several well written books on that theme by Rousas John Rushdoony.

It is essentially about the tension between community and the individual.  Golf is an individual game.  The one.  You win or lose based on your competence.  Football is a team sport.  The many.  You win or lose based on how others on the team perform or underperform.

There is huge frustration when one person plays extremely hard, another coasts and the lazy person costs everyone the game.

When you are a solitary individual, you are, in theory, not held back by anyone else’s inadequacies.  Golf.  You rise to the highest level of your actual ability.

On the other hand, your pool of resources is quite small.  You!

When you are in community, your options are vastly larger and you can consider more significant projects, but you are always at risk of being hampered by someone in community who pulls you down.

Now, let’s take that concept over to the spiritual realm where they play mean and dirty.

There is an institution that we have dealt with in the past.  The leadership is (so far as we can see) rather militantly, intentionally, sold out to darkness.  We went and hacked and whacked at that.

What happened was that they used their minions to take the spiritual heat for them.  The low level members of this community have been savagely spanked in a public, humiliating way.  And, so far as we can see, the leadership who committed the organization to darkness have escaped without judgment.

This is one of the ugliest sides of community – when the peons pay the price for the leadership’s malfeasance.  HAPPENSALLTHETIME.

We are sending our largest team back to that spot –  Target #2 – to hammer on the covenants that protect the guilty from the divine punishment due them and that cause the minions to pay a debt they don’t even know about.

So how do we select a team for that assignment?

Very simply, we need people who have wrestled with the dynamics of The One and the Many.

In other words, if you have been raised in a lovely family and you take for granted all their support, you would be in a privileged position, but would not have authority here.

And if you spurned all community long ago and have been a superbly effective lone ranger, you also don’t have authority here.

The team I have selected has bled deeply on this issue.

Many have been in dysfunctional families.  Some were smothering, controlling families and they had to decide to what degree to submit for the sake of peace, whether to leave completely and when to stand and try to redefine the family culture.

Others have been in a codependent relationship where the other party changed and they had to figure out how to – or whether to – reconnect with a different social contract.

Many have been through tough situations with a community of faith.

Most have had a range of difficult job situations.

There is not a RIGHT answer to the question of community.  Jesus overtly formed community.  On the one hand, community let him down badly at the most critical moment.  Talk about setting the bar low:  “Can’t you just stay awake, guys?”

His community ended up killing him.

But community also took Christianity from a handful of people to a billion.

On the other hand, there were plenty of times when Jesus simply ditched community because they were a liability, and He and Father needed to take care of business in a crisp fashion, without the slow pokes gumming up the works.

There is a time for the solitary walk and a time for community.  And those who have wrestled with the issue are the ones on this team.  Not all have come to a good resolution to the problem.  There are still some wide open discussions going on.

We don’t have the perfect labor pool of spiritual giants who have won all the important battles.  But for this team, we at least have to have people who have bled a little over The One and the Many, and have thought through how to position themselves.

Our objective is to bring justice to bear on the dark community, setting things right so that the covenant of protection over the leadership is stripped away, and they get justice served to them.

But before we can go there, people HAVE to have wrestled with the gnarly issue of The One and the Many.

The amount of anguish the individuals on this team have experienced with this sharp-edged issue will now be translated into spiritual authority against some cruel spiritual bullies.

Copyright March 2018 by Arthur Burk


Posted in Spiritual Warfare | 6 Comments

Time and Space #20: The Third Strand

The bird sits on the lawn, waiting for the earthworm to make a wrong move.

The hawk sits on the tree branch, waiting for the mouse in the field to expose itself.

These two time/space alignments are all about physical space and physical force.  If the hunter is skilled and the hunted is careless, violence ensues.

Far more sophisticated is the alignment of emotions.

Consider Moses in the basket on the Nile, when the princess came to bathe.  Clearly timing played a role, as Jochebed knew the princess’ rhythm.  Equally, space played a role since Jochebed knew where to float the boat.

But central to the whole proposition was the princess’ heart.  And synchronizing to someone’s emotions is an extraordinary art form.

From the salesman trying to figure out when to transition from the pitch to the close, all the way to the lover trying to figure out if he has won the lady’s heart, synchronizing to someone else’s emotions is challenging.

But when you take it out of the natural, and put it in the frame of partnership with God, it becomes doable.

Jochebed did her best with time and space.  Miriam was most likely trained rigorously and played her part with precision as well.

But it was God who arranged the alignment of the princess’ heart so that the time and space dynamics rendered the right result.

Most of us can think of situations where we planned with precision, executed with care and failed miserably because the other person’s heart was not responsive.

When all three components are in place, it is a beautiful thing.

Copyright March 2018 by Arthur Burk 

Posted in Sanctifying Time | 6 Comments

2. Innsbruck Strategy – Anchor Truths

Target #1 is our most complex project.  It is an Exhorter enterprise with vast, sweeping statements.  “The most loved. . . ”  “The most beautiful . . . ”

The exaggerations are stupendous and drastically disconnected from reality.

At the entrance to this place is a human-sized statue of Lucifer surrounded by a bunch of short phrases, taken out of context.  The appeal is to overtly lay down your prior frame of reference and wander through this enterprise with an “open mind” so you can see things from a “different perspective.”

In other words, the temptation in the Garden of Eden all over again.  This is the primary reality in this place – Lucifer has not changed his approach!!!

This place also has a huge amount of death about it, is on one of the main leylines and has managed to smack our team around pretty well already.  The demonic has spoken vigorously, repeatedly, that we are not “allowed” to take a team there.  It is untouchable.

Clearly the team going there will have to be selected with great care.

My first criteria is someone who has been savagely tested on their anchor truths.  Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego had to come to terms with whether they would still serve God in the face of death.  They passed the test, telling the king they had no guarantee of rescue, but that had no bearing on their refusal to adjust their theology for his ego’s sake.

So I went through the list, looking for people who have had monumental disappointments in life, where they so expected God to intervene and He did not.  In that place, if they stood firm on their anchor truths and did not wobble, they gained significant authority to withstand the Luciferian spirit of “keeping an open mind.”

Some things don’t ever need to be reconsidered!

I was delighted to find nine people who had solid credentials in that category.  I am sure that when they went through their personal season of shock over the way life played out, they had no idea God was grooming them for an intense battle in Innsbruck!

But that is the way it is.  Authority is earned by how we respond to the junk in life.  And God plans ahead, sometimes decades ahead.

It was also disappointing to see how many people on the list have been deeply compromised in this area by their default emotional responses to the junk that God allows to hit them.

After the first pass, I then screened for life.

This is a deadly place.  I need people who have grown – not just survived – in some pretty rocky fields in life, and who are life giving from the abundance within them in hard times, not just when it is convenient.

I still marvel at Jesus comforting the women of Jerusalem on the way to His own crucifixion.  Talk about reaching deep, and extending life to others who were much less wounded than He was.  THIS is our Savior.  Amazing authority.

As I went back over the nine, some were eliminated.  They clearly could stand on a truth, rock solid, not moved, but for some I removed, there was not much life flowing from them, and for others, they could only grow in good circumstances.  Their spiritual roots could not find life in a rocky field.

Fortunately that still left me with a few who I could put on this team – rock solid in their knowledge of God and full of life in good times and bad.

It was interesting as I looked at those people.  No one would want their lives!  You stand back and look at what I know about their journey and it has been simply ugly.  None of them have the elegant, triumphant, iconic Christian walk that others would crave.

Yet in the crucible of injustice, betrayal, long-delayed breakthroughs, and stalked by death in many forms, they were being groomed by God to be dangerous in this place.

I guess it is a lot like the elite military units of the world.  Their preparation is brutal.  The fruit is that they are effective.

Food for thought as the team going to Target #1 will be putting their lives on the line for the sake of the King.


Nothing new at all for these battle seasoned Noble Subjects.

Copyright March 2018 by Arthur Burk

Posted in Spiritual Warfare | 7 Comments

1. Innsbruck Strategy – Paralysis

We are about a month away from our land dynamics training in Innsbruck, in April 2018.  We have between 40 and 50 people coming from over a dozen nations, most planning to stay for the guided field work.

That means a LOT of shuffling of names around the spreadsheet, trying to match up earned authority that is well placed against the strongholds that will be visited.

This series of blogs are simply my thinking out loud so you can see the logic behind staffing teams and building strategies.

Today Serina went to scout out a spot called Target #8 that we plan to send a team to.  We had reason to believe that it was pretty dark and loaded with critters, since it is anchoring a leyline.

She went, saw, came back and reported that there was no drama, no darkness, she discerned nothing, there was no push back.


We took a step back to ponder what was really going on.  Lots of odds and ends bubbled up, but nothing convincing.

Then I remembered that the whole time she was gone, I was paralyzed in terms of work.  She had waited to do her reconnaissance until I was in the office this morning, so I could have her back in case anything went sideways.

I got out of bed feeling clear headed, ready for the day.  I checked in with her when I was in the office, and she left on her mission.  The whole time she was gone, I was unable to do anything of significance.  I would piddle at this, then that, then something else.

There was no ability to even answer basic emails.

I tried a nap.  I tried a cup of tea.  I tried a bunch of stuff.  No traction.

About an hour after she was back, I was still floundering.  I pinged her and sure enough, she was also not able to get traction on anything.

Now it all made sense.  Target #8 is designed to tamp down initiative in the spiritual realm in the city.  When you go there, you are expected to lay down your connection with the present.  It is like Disneyland or a day spa or a museum — you go there to BE there and to immerse yourself in that ambiance, not to bring your daily life with you.

And all the people who go there and willingly disconnect from their world, and enter into the world of that institution, are empowering the demonic in a far larger way than just the time they are there.  They have come under the spiritual power of that demonic entity.

I was rather stunned that my JUST being on standby for Serina’s exploratory trip would allow them to shut me down so completely.

Not good.

Obviously the team we send there will be militantly pushing against the mesmerizing spirit, but the other issue that shouted was the earned authority in terms of pushing through obstacles in life.

Serina and I ran down the list of people who have applied and been accepted for the training and swiftly picked off a dozen or so who had very little tenacity.  Doesn’t take much in life to stop them.  Clearly they would not be on that team.

Then we flipped it the other way and marked the individuals who have a history of relentlessly doing workarounds whenever there is an obstacle.  They just don’t stop.

Interestingly, most of those were already tagged to be team leaders elsewhere!

So we will be juggling names on teams until the day before the event, but we now have a very different grid for this one.  Target #8 has a huge potential.  If we manage to do some clean up there, it could change the spiritual climate of the whole city to some degree.

BUT, hundreds of thousands of people have been there over the centuries, willingly yielding to the invitation to disconnect from the larger picture and to be emotionally guided by the powers that are there.  That represents a stunningly strong force to be pierced.

We will need some fiercely independent, highly focused, spiritual marathon runners to be able to put a scratch on that bad boy!

Fortunately, we have some!

So . . . when I realized what all was going on, my question was how to get myself (and Serina) out from under the paralysis.

I looked away from the To Do list that forever sits on the corner of my desk and jumps up and down, looking for attention.  I looked inside and asked, “Where is the grace to do SOMETHING right now?”

The answer was to write this blog.  I was surprised because I was not planning to document our vetting process but here we are.

It flowed.

I think that as a result of overtly looking for where God was right then, it hopefully broke the power of the paralysis off me.  I suspect I can walk out the rest of the day with some degree of order.

And that raises another issue for the team − we need people who have their ears on, who can break out of the structure, systems and processes of Target #8 and do the thing God calls them to do at that time.

For now, this will go off to Sandy for proofing, I will surface, check with the team, and then come back to my desk to see what kind of momentum I have now.

Copyright March 2018, by Arthur Burk

Posted in Spiritual Warfare | 7 Comments

Time and Space #19: Waiting in the Present

Was Joseph a good guy or a bad guy?

Or some of both?

I don’t like the fact that he married the daughter of a priest.  One wonders about his father-in-law’s spiritual requirements of him.

He named his first son something about forgetting his father’s house.  Ouch.

He used a silver cup for divination.

And he utterly destroyed a capitalist system and transferred all of the liquid and non-liquid wealth of the nation to the king, reducing the nation to slavery.  I don’t think God sent him to Egypt to destroy the nation, and I think the reason the Egyptians eventually enslaved the Hebrews is because a Hebrew inappropriately enslaved the Egyptians.

On the other hand, he was clearly picked by God for this task, and he interpreted dreams through the power of the One True God, fully giving Him credit for that gifting.

Good guy/bad guy?  You pick.

What I do like about him is the fact that he could live in the present without repudiating his past.

He seemed to be fully engaged in his job as Prime Minister, not pining for justice or going on and on about the issues of the past.  He clearly still had a heart for his dad and his baby brother (not so much for the other ten!).  But he lived in the present and built vigorously.

When God brought the past into the present, by bringing Jacob and Benjamin back to him, he was instantly ready to deal with the past in a productive way – first bringing his brothers to repentance and then restoring his family’s fortunes through his political connections.

That is an art form – living large in the present, while there is huge unfinished business from the past.  He appropriated the grace from this time, while letting God orchestrate the alignment of the past time with the present time in a way that He could engage with.

But at the same time, he could fully engage the unfinished business from the past, when God brought it to him.

As much as I don’t like him, I do appreciate his handling of time.

One frustrated mother of a Prophet cried, “She has eight toes in the future and two in the past.”

Not Joseph.  He had ten toes in the present.

Until God aligned time and space to bring the past into the present.

Then He used the present to heal the past.

Not too shabby as a model for wise living.

Copyright February 2018 


Posted in Sanctifying Time | 5 Comments

Time and Space #18: Staying in Sync with God

Try this picture.

You run a medium sized business and are doing quite nicely.  You have a net worth on paper of $25 million and plenty of cash in the bank for any toys you want.

Your product requires a certain mineral that is primarily available from China.  You have a long term contract with them.  All is good.

The US and China get caught in a trade war through no fault of your own.  Suddenly your supply is cut off.  You scramble to find replacement resources, but the cost is sky high.

For years you struggle with rescuing the business.  It is your obsession day and night.  You try a different line of products, and different design, but year after year, your business volume drops and your profit margin vanishes.

You are at retirement age and are looking at bankruptcy.

Suddenly, your scarce mineral is found in a copper mine in Arizona and you are able to purchase it at less than the previous price, with almost no shipping charges, and at the same time, the government approaches you with a ginormous order for your product.

In a day, you are back in business with your core competency, with a premium supply of needed resources, and a government contract to provide one of your widgets to every member of the armed forces, with a new model replacing all those in just three years.

You are rescued and back in the gravy.

Switch the story.  Make it Jacob instead of you.

He goes from wealth in Canaan to poverty in Canaan, to refugee status in Egypt, to wealth and privilege in Egypt.

Those are the FACTS of his external environment.

God changed the environment he was in (space) in a very short period of time, executing with precision a plan that had been envisioned long ago (time).

No flaws on God’s part.

The question is whether Jacob could sync with God emotionally and enter into this new season with robust joy.

It would seem not.  When Jacob met Pharaoh, there was this exchange.

And Jacob said to Pharaoh, “The years of my pilgrimage are a hundred and thirty.  My years have been few and difficult, and they do not equal the years of the pilgrimage of my fathers.”  Genesis 47:9  NIV

There is a certain truth to what he said.  Due to his deplorable choices, he certainly had hit a few bumps in the road along the way.  BUT, to be just given freedom, wealth and privilege by Pharaoh and to focus on the past instead of the future suggests he had a trauma bond to the past.

So back to you.  Are you in the middle of big pain now?  Then this blog is not for you.  Have you come out of the pain in terms of real life circumstances, but you are still mired in yesterday’s pain?

You may wish to take steps to bring your emotions in line with your external reality, so that you are all in one time and space, not fractured.

Copyright February 2018 by Arthur Burk


Posted in Sanctifying Time | 4 Comments