July 24, 2015

Dear sons and daughters of our Father,father

I greet you in the awesome reality of God's great love for us, our Father-God who whispers to our hearts of His extravagant love, "all that is mine is yours." (Luke 15:31b, NASB). Those who gathered for the Wheaton MPC school received a transforming infusion of the Father's love. Throughout the school the Lord was present to impart the blessing of the Father, and during the healing of memories prayer the Spirit ministered deeply to wounds in relationship with our human mothers and fathers. Through the cleansing power of the Cross our Father opened new channels for us to bond with Him, receive His warm embrace, and trust His wise help.

As He healed, the Lord released a word that has been resounding in my heart ever since: mine. My dear Father, our dear Father. What a healing is worked in our souls when we're granted these words that claim Him! What a joyful urge as we lay hold of the One who has laid hold of us! In my mind's eye I see a toddler enthusiastically wrapping her arms around Daddy's leg, "My daddy! All mine!" I see a grown man gazing across the room to draw confidence from his father's wise and protective presence, knowing that his father fully and freely gives his resources, affection, and commitment. This healthy capacity to know the Father as ours imparts life and wholeness - rather than a me and mine that is selfish and narcissistic, this my Father bond makes us persons who can live and love in freedom. This time of healing prayer was sealed by the blessing of the Father, which I now pray for you all:


My sons, my lovely daughters, receive My blessing, receive the name I give you.
My lovely daughters, My sturdy daughters,

My strong sons,

Receive the blessing of your Father.

Receive the blessing of your Father.

Receive the blessing of your Father.

It is high summer here in the Pacific Northwest, and this season brings many pleasurable blessings -- tree-ripe peaches, camping trips, a swim in cool water under the hot sun. Wherever you are (and whatever the season in your hemisphere), your Father's love and care is present to you: I pray that you are able to receive the pleasure, but more than that to receive it as directly and personally from your Father to you. In Centuries of Meditations Thomas Traherne points to this "mine" in relation with the Creation He's given to us. The world


"...discovers the being of God unto you, it opens His nature, and shews you His wisdom, goodness and power, it magnifies His love unto you, it serves Angels and men for you, it entertains you with many lovely and glorious objects, it feeds you with joys, and becomes a theme that furnishes you with perpetual praises and thanksgivings, it enflameth you with the love of God, and in the link of your union and communion with Him. It is the temple wherein you are exalted to glory and honour, and the visible porch or gate of Eternity: a sure pledge of Eternal joys, to all them that walk before God and are perfect in it" (p. 29).


Traherne gives us wonderful guidance in how to truly receive God's love given through His world:


"If you desire directions how to enjoy it, place yourself in it as if no one were created besides yourself, and consider all the services it doth even to you alone" (p. 29).


Something new and profoundly healing occurs within the soul when you dare to embrace this reality that God did truly create for you, and desires you to know the world as yours. I encourage you to read the "Second Century" of Traherne's, as his receptivity to our Father's goodness is wonderfully contagious!

With this newsletter you will also find a beautiful testimony of the healing a precious woman experienced as she received the created gift the Father placed right in her backyard. My deep thanks to the dear woman who shared this experience! I pray the Lord will minister to you this day a deepening and strengthening of your bond to His Father heart.

Yours in Christ,



"The Return of the Prodigal Son" by Rembrandt is public domain.

Live audio recording of the Wheaton MPC School is now available.

We invite you to enter into the ministry times and receive healing from the Lord as He continues to work through these recordings. Visit our online store to purchase.

Registration continues for the MPC schools:

Portland, Oregon - September 13-18 - Click to learn more or register

Pura, Switzerland - October 18-23 - Click to learn more or register


Please email
Lori if you would like electronic or print materials to share the invitation with your loved ones.  

Living Waters Leadership Training

October 24th-30th, 2015
Kansas City, KS

chrysalisGod has left more than His fingerprints on the beautiful world He created. He filled creation with messages that reach into our spirits at unexpected moments. I have had a Chickadee land on my head for a few seconds while his mate two feet away looked me up and down. Another time I observed a big green worm, sporting multiple black bristles with orange dots on the ends, transform into a chrysalis. I was able to nurture it through the winter. In June the metamorphosis was complete, and a beautiful swallowtail butterfly emerged. When I first saw the dried chrysalis, I cried out, thinking it had died. As I bent over the chrysalis mourning the loss, I had the strangest feeling that something was watching me. I froze. Glancing to my right, I saw "another" butterfly, wings folded, hanging on the end of the twig the chrysalis was attached to. It took me awhile to realize the butterfly was "my" butterfly. Suspended in time (probably no more than a few seconds), the butterfly and I had eye contact. It was as if we connected in some strange way. His huge eyes were so bright and luminous with the life of God in him.

The next morning I watched as the butterfly attempted to fly. Each time he would flop back to the floor of the patio, wings outstretched to soak up the early morning sun. With each attempt he managed to gain more height and more strength in his wings. He flew out into the open air and sought to gain his bearings. I thought it would be the last time I saw him as he started to go upward and over the house. Instead he came directly back to where I stood on the covered patio and hovered within inches of my face a brief time and then flew over the house.

From time to time during the summer I would see a butterfly enter my flower garden. It would always fly up close to my face and then be off. Most butterflies do not get close to us. I told myself it was "him," and for several years I would encounter a butterfly that always flew up to my face. Then at one sighting I noticed that his wings were large and the color faded. With sadness I thought it would be our last meeting. One day as I rounded the corner of the house, there lay a swallowtail butterfly in the driveway, wings spread out. As I gently picked it up, I could see that the light, the breath of life, had gone out of the eyes. I treasure this butterfly as one of those special gifts God gives to His children. I have the chrysalis and the butterfly in a shadow box, one of my most treasured nature possessions. I can rarely share this with anyone. How many people do you know who have had eye contact with a butterfly?

So what was God's message to me through this gift? At the time I had gone through a lot of inner healing. I had realized that I had been called to help people come into a closer and more intimate relationship with Jesus. This call included prayer ministry for the wounded. Following that course has met with struggle and roadblocks, which add up to heartache at times. The effort to be accepted by a local church and minister has been disappointing. In my attempt to complete an internship I was used by someone for financial gain and was dismissed before I could enter the program. Somehow I managed to land on my feet and keep moving, although sometimes I wonder if I have heard God accurately. At the age of 70 I wonder how much time is left. Seeing the butterfly with all its ups and downs of surviving the winter and its struggle to fly seemed to speak into my life and my struggle. The creature's resting in the sunlight to gain strength to fly reminded me of my need to rest in God's presence to receive His strength to "fly."

The butterfly taught me other lessons as well. How can a lime-green worm with orange dots on his bristles transform into a chrysalis? The worm was hanging on the underside of the twig, looking as if it were starting to dehydrate. I felt bad for keeping it in the house too long. When I went to dispose of it, it had completely transformed into the chrysalis hanging from the twig by two silk threads. The case was rather opaque and a dull green color, totally different from the green worm in texture, size and shape.

As the winter wore on, it began to change and take on a light brown color; thus I thought it had died. But checking on it later, I found it becoming translucent. With time the outer shell became like parchment, and once again I thought it was dead.

As spring approached, I noticed there was still life in the chrysalis as what looked like the bars on the wings of a butterfly began to show. Because I had just taken a job at the Christian bookstore when it was time for the chrysalis to open, I missed the birthing process. But I knew that exiting the chrysalis requires a struggle, and there can be no assistance or the butterfly dies. It forms sugar for energy during that struggle to emerge. I see this principle in my own struggle to grow in ministry. There was no one to help. If there had been, I would have been shaped by man and not by the Holy Spirit. I would not be as strong as I am today.

After the emergence of the butterfly, the markings of the bars of the wings remained on the empty chrysalis for several months. With time they have faded away. It makes me wonder what kind of energy (for lack of a better word) is involved in the transformation that the image of the bars remains, only to fade away with time? What miraculous powers are at work to transform a green worm into a chrysalis that continues to transform into a butterfly within the casing? As far as I know scientists have not been able to explain or understand the process of metamorphosis. 'Tis a mystery! And a miracle!

This story pictures death and life for the Christian, death of the old self and transformation into the new, true self in Christ at our rebirth. So many times I thought the worm had died; yet life was still working on the inside, transforming the worm. In the same way we may feel as if we have died (slipped into sin or backslidden) or have been set on the back burner, and it's all over. Yet all the while the Spirit of God is quietly at work, unseen, transforming us into the persons He created us to be.

--from a previous Wheaton MPCS attendee

Photo courtesy of Michelle Meiklejohn at freedigitalphotos.net 

Ministries of Pastoral Care | P.O. Box 3792 | Peoria | IL | 61612-3792