Fifty days of rain in the UK and its over. YESSS. Blue sky came at last, bathing bodies silencing, grumbles and moans. There is something about a grey sky that just sucks the life right out of you. But that cloudless sky brought a gorgeous sense of therapy. Even the wind rested. On the farmlands here, I almost heard the animals chuckle with the change of weather. I feel so sorry for them. They stand on churned up mud all day and night. Get battered by chilling gales. Eat grass that is one flavour only all their life. Even miss out on the mince pies during this festive season. The outdoors is a rough place. Mind you I am struggling to imagine a cow curled up beside a roaring fire sipping a glass of mulled wine.

       But we all need a break from rain in terms of relief from sustained hardship. Many in the outpourings at IHOP-KC (www.ihop.org) are experiencing that release from physical pain, spiritual dryness, emotional turmoil and even just boredom itself. I laughed to read Jeff Eggers, a leader at IHOP comment on Facebook, "sitting at my table eating chocolate fudge ice cream at 1 am and manifesting, hmmmm. I puzzle myself." The movements of God on the inside, His real love and affection, the sense of being filled with divine power is uncomparable.

        My family watched the X-Factor winner sing his way into millions of pounds this last week.  It was quite a buzz. He won a competition that took him from the backstreets to scenes like that which I noticed on the front page of a national newspaper, literally getting photographed with royalty, arms locked around each others shoulders. Twenty million people across the United Kingdom, a third of the country gazed at the TV watching this young eighteen year old make it to the top of his little ladder in just months with a dream for fame and fortune. I have been feeling in the light of this and so many beautiful people around me like a real undiluted Mr Average or less. Okay - I know. It started a pity party. We have glamourous friends, charismatic winners as families, as spiritual leaders, as entrepreneurs, as friends and even as selfless examples of those who have soared in what it is to love man and God well. I feel a long way behind them. My struggle at present.

     Thomas Edison, an inventor who buzzed with ideas at the beginning of the nineteenth century changed billions of lives with his work. Attached to his name were over a thousand patents. They included the phonograph, the motion picture and the light bulb. Sound, sight, light and heat. He enriched a type of living that we glut on today. What a legacy. He literally brought light into darkness. Having just seen Christmas Carol at the cinema I am stunned by the almost mad genius and detail of modern film making. Nothing seems to be beyond their reach to re-create. Thanks to the founder Edison. And yet what is sad despite his famed light bulb invention is that he had no spiritual light bulb to see truth. He said, ""I cannot believe in the immortality of the soul... No, all this talk of an existence beyond the grave is wrong. It is born of our tenacity of life - our desire to go on living - our dread of coming to an end." But that cul-de-sac of perception was the ceiling of his understanding and an intense tragedy. It takes the divine rescuer, Jesus Christ to dig us out of our pit and deliver us into the real plot.

      I don't know about inventions. We are on mass across the planet about to check out our intentions. The new year resolutions. I cannot really measure many personal successes so I have plenty of revamped aims for 2010. But my heavenly Father does not quit on kindness. So he keeps me on his email list and in His delivery system for unconditional love. I really don't want to quit though tempting at times. So I have to learn more about this game of life and adjust to the eternal referee. My disappointments turn to a prayer for a spiritual Edison light bulb. Its called the increase of the Holy Spirit.

     On a different note again, here is a bizarre story. A lady told me this week that she places her tortoise in the fridge in a box at the beginning of winter. Yes - in the fridge sandwiched with soil and under wraps alongside the cheese and milk and leftovers of Sundays roast. Every spring after serious heads down hibernation, the little four legged friend creeps out of its sleep to sprint in slow motion over the daffodils and the glow of warmth from above.
     I pray you experience foreshadowings, that warmth from above, premiers and bonus gifts from heaven on you and your family this Christmas. May the real lights turn on. Hope live. May faith burst into a glowing fire that spurs a year filled with miracles and Holy drama and feasting!!! Hugs from us all here by a sunlit coast. Paul and family x

As a primary teacher I loved teaching kids to write stories. But children in reality became expert short story writers. They didn't have time for a "War and Peace" epic. Nope - a few pages of words at best. Summarising life in letters and these mini-dramas is challenging. Kinda artificial. There is a skill to keep integrity yet give what is a broad real flavour of what goes on behing the curtains. The restriction - keep it brief. Sometimes brief is false. False because the reduction of explanation makes the good look glamourous and the bad look catastrophic. As the poor reader ploughs through the offering of another newsletter, they pick up on the inferred or suggested than just the words alone. Information shouts from between the lines rewriting a whole nother story.
Get too worried about this and we could become paranoid about writing anything. You can't perfectly please the critics and the crowd even if there are devout supporters in the mix. Newsletters are like brief conversations. "How are you?" someone asks. "Fine, great - well things could be worse. Thanks," so goes the banter but brevity hides the battle: ommission rather than inclusion keeps secrets and tends to leave out the important.

On a positive note, we are the source of much inclusive talk in heavenly discussions. I may not be everyone's favourite cheese on earth but heaven has me online for rescue. That is comforting. I so often dribble words that have massive insufficiencies when talking to God in prayer. Even articulating the basics of struggle or delight feels shallow. But God, the great conversationalist picks up the threads and has dazzling understanding of my condition speaking life into my failing heart everytime.

Friendship - the gold of love is always searched for. As it develops through mud, madness and the micromesh of life it is the seal that defines value. In cementing friendship deep bonds are made. But there is a difference between friendship built on infatuation and that which is glued together with affection.

Infatuation is defined in the dictionary as an unreasoning or foolish passion. Affection is defined as boundless enthusiasm or extravagant fondness. With the second defintion you get the idea that there has been a great gazing for a lenghty period of time and the focus of attention is on one who is loved deeply with a permanency than nothing in life can shift.

Now add fiery to that and you have the gaze of God on you and me. This is not a nice idea. It is incredible. In us, it is feelable emotions that scientists cannot with integrity explain. You cannot make depression become a pool of peace. But God can. You cannot remove the negative assessements of years about you but God can. In revival, people do not get convinced by a cause and that information heals in itself. They aren't infatuated by a craze and find freedom from addictions. No, they are affected to the core of their soul by a Person who loves where it hurts. Not pity but power to deliver.

I had an eye test today. A light was shone into my pupils within a dark room. I could feel the breath of the person on my face. It felt uncomfortably close. I was aware of my coffee breath, of my inability to sit still, of my awkward posture, my rumbling stomach, a flicking of my eyelids that looked like two dying flies. The optician survived and I got sorted with new ability to see clearly. So the story ended well. But God is close to us today. He shines light into the pupils and though darkness is all around, He the beautiful God lingers for the stretch of a lifetime to lather out the dirt of self destruction replacing it with excessive deposits of affection.

Much can be further summarised in the most famous Bible text of all time and is beautifully unpacked in an extract by the revialist, Charles Finney.

(Dec 22nd 1850 see article http://www.gospeltruth.net/1849-51Penny_Pulpit/501222pp_wonderful_loveofg.htm )

Remember, you are meant to read between the lines. And read again. And read again. And you will get a full message of love that leads you to the place of the writer - Jesus who has thousands of love letters for you to read with Him face to face. Holy Spirit release another wave of unprecedented revelation...where it counts.

The Wonderful Love of God by Charles Finney

"God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life."--John 3:16

"This must have been a love of amazing strength; it could not have been a feeble state of mind; it must have been infinitely intense! Just think of it! "For God so loved the world, that he gave this only begotten Son!" What a wonder this was! Here were on the one hand a world of enemies who were at war with him; and on the other stood his beloved Son, his only begotten, his well beloved Son. Now just look at this: and conceive of a state of mind that should prefer to give that Son, that only begotten, that well beloved Son, to die for those rebels who stood with the weapons of rebellion in their hand.

They had revolted against his government, and were deserving of his frown and his wrath, his own conscience clearly affirming that they deserved to be banished from his presence; yet such was his estimate of the value of their souls, of the dreadful suffering to which they would be subjected if the penalty of the law should be inflicted upon them, that he gave his Son rather than banish that world of rebels from the glory of his power to die in their guilty state. No person, unless he ponders these things well, will understand how intensely strong this love must have been to produce such a determination as that. Let a parent conceive, if he can, who has an only child, one who has never offended him, the very darling of his soul, one whom he loves as well as he loves himself and has reason to love, if he could give up that child for the good of his enemies. Let people abuse him, do everything to injure him that they possibly could do, placing themselves in a position as obnoxious as possible so as to deserve his indignation and condemnation, incur his utter rejection and his abhorrence of them for ever.

Now conceive of a state of mind that could deliberately make such a choice as God did. It was not the sacrificing of an innocent person instead of the guilty; it was not the punishment of Christ-- consenting that Christ should suffer instead of sinners being punished--no; there was no such idea in the divine mind. But we shall more fully inquire into the reasons why God gave his Son to die for the good of the world by and by. I am now talking of the intense nature of this love. Now think, if you can, with your son on one side and your enemies on the other, what struggles would be produced in your mind by reflecting upon the fact that these enemies must perish for ever or you must give up your son!

You see that he has a willing heart in him, that he is ready to undertake their deliverance from death--that he is willing to take all that is implied in being their Saviour, but it demands that you consent to it, that you enter into it with your heart, and that you say to him go. Now when we realise what God must have felt under such circumstances, it is easy enough for us to understand the intense nature of the love that could have overcome that state of mind that would naturally cleave to his Son, and give him up for the good of the world. Just conceive how many things there must have been against this. God knew what it would cost him, that his Son must pass through trial, through affliction, through persecution, through poverty, through agony.

His Father saw every trial and every suffering that he would have to undergo--he saw him heavy sorrowing and despised--he saw him too in the garden, when he sweat as it were great drops of blood, so great was his agony--this was all present to the divine mind when he gave up his Son to be the Saviour of the world. The Father saw his Son weary to fainting, as he carried his cross up Calvary's hill so that his barbarous persecutors were compelled to lay the burden on another. He saw him mocked and pierced when on the cross, and saw him in the agonies of death, and heard his lamentable cry, "My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?"

What a number of scenes must have clustered around the divine mind to forbid the gift of his Son for the salvation of a guilty world. Yet so great was his love that he overcame all these obstacles and freely gave him up for us all, that we might not perish but have everlasting life. Let this idea, dear hearers, take possession of your minds.

At six years old I would sit on top of the stairs at night. My eyes were fixed on light coming from the closed door of a downstairs room. Frightened, the dark was a meal of monsters. On one occasion I saw lines of marching soldiers, a whole army coming towards me, fading within inches. Whimpering like a puppy in pain I wriggled up against a wall and endured it. This is still in my memory; even the sound of the the black boots and red silver buttoned coats. Of course it was make believe!

This week I feel distinct vulnerability. A different line of soldiers advances; the fragility of imperfections. Like the brakes of a car that squeal I am painfully aware of my lack in loving others. The loud inner voice would say, surely after thirty years as a Christian in the business of perfecting the art of selflessness, surely you have mastered it now? Nope. Sadly it all feels like I am at the beginning. But I know a man who has mastered this 'art.' He is also, thankfully, relentlessly compassionate at times like this. He stands on the other side of a loosely constructed wall and peers at me through gaps and cracks. His smile remains unbroken. His confidence about tomorrow fixed. His truth burns. His presence undeniabe. His fierce love powerful. I sweep the mess of broken glassy emotions to the feet of the one who knows how human beings are made and lower my eyes unsure how this time my life will hold anything. He holds my head gently and whispers, 'I have never changed my mind about you. I will not break my love with you. I have won your case in the court of heaven. You can appeal against the decision. But it is futile. I will always love you."

In 1869 the Suez Canal was constructed. It is an artificial sea-level waterway in Egypt connecting the Mediterranean Sea with the Red Sea. Politics and war have flanked its banks. But without this causeway, a journey would have to be made around Africa. the rule of access is that it is to be opened to every kind of vessel whether in or out of wartime - a neutral Switzerland running like a vein through wilderness places. The Suez Canal is symbolic to me of the North and South winds of Song of Songs 4:16 in the Bible. There is a Bride to be in this verse who invites the refiners fire of good times and bad times her way in order to stay close to the love of a man who is captivating and wonderful. He will be her Bridegroom but at cost. She says, "Awake, O north wind, come south wind. Blow upon my garden that its spices may flow out." Here she recognizes that without the heart being tested, without love, life, the God behind the wall being found to have validity she will lose the one she really loves and ultimately...the ability, to love.

The Red Sea is the difficult choice; the crises and pain. The Mediterranean: the holiday; days of refreshing. Both are required, rights of passage to authenticate the value of life hidden with God, filled with hope and set on trying to be other than as each dawn begins.

Whether victim or victor, I kinda need help for my failing heart right now. More than the promises of men or my own ability to succeed is His power - the power of transcendent affection. Phil Wickham's words (from the song >> Home) rest with me today as a prayer in the midst of wishing there was a shortcut, a Suez Canal yet I cry out, "'Strip away my calloused heart, set Your arrow hit Your mark, bring me back to where love starts, bring me back to where You are.'

    I know this is alarming. But at 14 years of age, I had no information to tell me otherwise. The little dad and son chat didn't happen about the birds and bees. Ladies lay eggs I concluded. No I really did believe that. Being a birdwatcher I used what facts I could scrabble together. Being ridiculously shy left me out of other boys mischievous discussions. For them, eventually life is giggled into place by what seems daring talk about subjects that for me I wouldn't even dare talk about to my my mum and dad.

Then in the 1500 strong boys school I attended, they showed 'the' film that sent me into shock and awe - a baby being born. Yikes. I was gobsmacked, disgusted, confused. We all have these moments. Thought we had life sussed. But then comes the punch in the jaw as the real truth emerges. Not that its always bad. Sometimes it gives us space and freedom.

At IHOP-KC ( go and watch at www.ihop.org ) the Holy Spirit is being poured out. As I watch on the webstream here in England, I am literally muttering, "wow, oh wow, huhwhee. Just look at that." After four years as a family based there - I think I can total days of praying hours to see this happen. Now its reality. I am thrilled. Thank you Jesus. More God - thunder down upon them treasure upon treasure of your heart. I remember we went to Toronto in 1994 when similar things were happening. We joined the people lines to get into a warehouse crammed with bodies. No hype. No clever sermons. But God pressed in - peeled off the human divide between heaven and earth and flooded flesh and souls with the beauty of Himself.

I remember one time talking to an English visitor, whilst holding our daughter who was a few months old at the time. It was after a meeting. We were having a serious conversation. Suddenly, the Holy Spirit fell on us both. I burst into laughter that continued in almost painful heightened excess for at least half an hour before it began to reduce a little. I had fallen on chairs and was giggling to myself on the floor not totally understanding the point of the humour. Deep down though - I felt healing of hurts like heat de-icing my cold emotions. A swell of peace ran in the joints of years. A love I have no words for. That was one of many, many encounters condensed into just a few days.

The IHOP invasion from heaven is no ordinary affair. Hearts have burned for this day. It is the triumph of the cross. It is living friendship halmarked for friends of the King. The lava lake of love is bursting through the magma of a crust of unknowing where God is raining His reality and nothing can deny the results. You don't hype depression away. Or kinda squeeze your eyes and force sight to come through with will power. No. This is divine. Divine new wine. God healed our marriage back in 1994. A chinese man filled with this wine of the Spirit prophesied over us many details about our lives.

It was like he knew us from when young. He hugged us both and love penetrated the fractures. We collapsed under the power of the Spirit and God's surgery mended what no man can mend. The Spirit planted prophetic in us that week some of which is unfolding now 16 years on. Though there are many reasons for this outpouring one thing that cannot be explained or stopped is the presence of joy and that is strength. It laughs at the scoffers and turns faces to God's warm rescuing light. It makes the heart sing. It turns heaviness into liquid pleasurable delight at being God's own possession.

On getting back from Toronto I had major end time visions that were almost like trances. I was transported into scenes of such vivid real environments that it would take me hours to recover. I see them now as it was then. Works on the heart are testimonies of Jesus. He is the lover who in perfect timing...comes and urges us on. We have to experience God coming close - a flooding of the soul. I cannot live with just a theory and nor will Jesus Himself. He is planning romance and captivation. This is a gushing from heaven of John 17.

On that visit to Toronto in 94 I remember standing with Shirley under tons of plummeting water at Niagara Falls. Rainbows were everywhere. We recommitted our marriage as water splashed on our raincoats and tears ran from our eyes. We had no idea that the real name for the falls was the Bridal Veil. We found that out later. Jesus is placing us under fresh visitations, waves of supply to strengthen an internal eternal communion. The Bridegroom God is washing away unbelief, chains, demons, relational wreckage, sickness, sin, the silence of an untouched heart and drawing face to face with His people.

You can't order this event. But you can ask for it. The worst thing to do when outpourings take place is to get all religous and self opinionated. Sure we need discernment. But its time to get under the rain yourself. Put yourself on the ministry lines. Don't be robbed of your portion. Humble yourself and relinquish control to the escort of the Holy Spirit. Then enjoy the baptism of fire and cleansing. We must continue to ask for this personally and corporately. Not to turn inwards but upwards and then outwards. I tell you - once the Holy Spirit gets you, all the petty arguments and reservations about what is foolish and improper fall away.

To see Wes Hall tipsy in the Spirit is to see a man encountered by the best experience on the planet. It is power within. It is might that raises us up to partner with Jesus with forcible devotion against formidable odds and overcome every obstacle. It produces a longevity of fresh undying resolve. I want this. Since 94 my teeth still chatter when the Holy Spirit is moving strongly. Shirley lets out a shout - loud and not polite. It marks God's way. It announces His wisdom wins. The shout or contention for break through can be released in celebration today for a God who is not silent or indifferent. He loves to come. Oh the water being changed into wine. Thank you Father. Bless IHOP and its gatherings now Lord. Jesus you satisfy me for sure. I love you.

Its not selfish to cry for more. Let it spill out here Father in the UK too. Send the rain, the ruach, the river Lord. Its time. There's more to come. This is just the foretaste.

A group of us stood outside the Supreme Court in Westminster Square and prayed for God to raise up a justice generation, a voice in the silence, a turning of the tide of evil and a presence of the sovereignty of God above all else. We prayed for an ending of abortion and for the men in the land to repent for the depravity of actions that had defiled all kinds of people and levels of life over generations.

We went inside the House of Commons and sat in the gallery listening to a debate about parades in Northern Island. As they talked we sat speaking in tongues in our heads acutely aware fo the folly of decision making that falsely believes it can succeed without God. Inch thick glass separated us from the MP's below and the eyes of security guards watched our every move. We cried out for the rulership of Christ to dominate this stage of power and repentence to land on every heart.

Six huge lights hung above the heads of the politicians. Six - the symbolic number for man. i prayed for the light of the world to be the seventh - higher than the others - a greater illumination that the mere artificial lamps swinging over the national and international government. I could see in the Spirit, water gushing down on the suited men and women and prayed for a great turning and returning to God.

We had a chance to go into other parts of Westminster and pray as we walked. David who lead the time said 'I wonder if the House of Lords are in session.' I prayed under my breath "Jesus you are the Lord - be in session here...dominate the operations - sway with your Kingdom the actions of man." Though filmed and filled with microphones from front to back so that much can be watched in the privacy of peoples homes there was a sense of this being a conveyor belt of slick law making little interupted by a mostly disinterested and ingnorant population outside of the ornate interior.  The church is deaf to the increasing loss of liberties and religous freedoms in which God is being tossed aside with a violence never imagined 30-40 years ago. 

We stood outside with Big Ben chiming 9.00pm. I felt God say that a sword would fall in the centre of London and on its following edge i saw a surgeons theatre curtain lower dividing London into two camps. Restoration on the one side with intense surgery and on the other side God's wrath and indignation in the form of a dismantling of longstanding strength and fame..

We spent time with Alison today meeting at the best chip shop in Convent garden. The whole of London seemed to be awake when it seemed sensible for them to be asleep!. Sitting in a side street on a shop window ledge facing the back doors of a theatre we munched on chips and shared each others life stories. Taxis whizzed by. Collections of smokers puffed away before returning to their positions behind check outs. The city seemed to operate in ceaseless activity mostly shadowed by a mass of bodies on the move dressed in diverse outfits, some from the highest fashion houses in the land and some from the dirtiest gutters.

I know we will return here again and again. Our hearts felt connected to make a stand for God on issues of extreme importance like the terrifying presence of government assisted abortion and human trafficking. Its time to partner with God that He can confront the perpetraotrs of these evils and stem the decay. The UK has sold itself into many acts of rebellion against God, idol promoting worship and unmentionable corruption. But we as fellow intercessors standing in the chill of October on the streets of London were oh so aware of the power of dialogue with God in prayer and being vessels of His will, mouthpieces of His desire and expressions of His astonishing capacity to have mercy triumph over judgement.

We had a chance to look and see the throne of England and I felt a chill run down my spine that our nation should usurp a greater authority claiming independence and manufacturing with arrogance and pride its own . God has it all. We have lost His hand. We are on a knife edge, a storm so violent that much misery is about to escalate. But on the streets outside the Supreme Court we freshly vowed to stand for justice, for the voiceless, for Jesus no matter what the cost even unto death.

Easy to say but there is no middle ground. The middle ground is traitors territory. It hops from one opposing army to the other claiming neutrality. We have thrown passion from a godly sense of fear and trembling wholeheartedly into a fleshly frenzy. The UK is removing all moral boundaries and neutralising the faith under relative, hedonistic, humanistic banners that have poisoned absolutes with a nonsense of ideas about equality that is really an active dismantling of God's ways from our land and its people. This is so demonically charged that blindness is increasing too. We are setting up a trap and then stepping into the trap we have made. 

We know there is such an urgency. Its time for us to gather and step up a fervency of response. Father, take us and streamline, purify, refocus us with the power of the Holy Spirit to speak with boldness - act without duplicity in this great darkness that is attempting to succumb the nation to spiritual paralysis, and love with immense humility matched with obedience. Empower us with strategy and friendship, healing anointing and authority in Jesus. Its now we have to stand without backing down...or all falls down. Come Lord Jesus Come.

ONE WAY TO LOOK GOOOOOOOD . . . LOOK AT GOD

I like to look good in new gear. A new pair of socks is a start. Shoes gets closer to the feel good factor but a new pair of jeans or even better a snazzy top and I strutt around like I am most important guy on the block. Funny how clothes will do that for you. I have noticed lately a new wave of T-SHIRT designs. Lucrative business if you pitch it right. But what you wear on your chest right next to your heart is important - okay though only skin deep. Trying to get a designer T-shirt in one recent shopping spree I fished though images of skulls and CND symbols, of crude insults and sleeze that made me cringe. So I am still looking for the perfect T-shirt.

A guy I saw yesterday however was wearing for me the coolest top. Aeroplanes in one large squadron fanned out to his shoulders - plain white emblems on black. A good T-shirt for me is more than cloth. It should be prophetic or at least personal. Extreme I know. This shirt was. In Europe, my parents tasted of air raids during the second world war. I love to go over the stories with them because it seems such a stark contrast to todays relative peace in the west. Real bombs fell in my parents younger days and the terror of night sortes shook the earth. Mum would collect the shracknell - the outer smashed pieces of bombs. Dad would pretend he was an orphan to get the free icecreams being given out amidst the rubble and smoke. The war in one way though bloody, spoke of a struggle to defend freedoms, causes, the next generation.

I am aware as I stand for God with brother and sister who love God that we are defending the highest of all causes and fighting a battle against one who is called the prince of the air. He terrorized the innocent in and out of the womb. We win if we stand...and stand with the greatest defender. We lose if we retire. England though was not defended by military might as its primary defense from invasion and occupation. it was intercessory prayer that won the day. People like Rees Howells - men of God who knew where the real power bases lay. Oh how little we see of the real war for our lives. I have a hobby of buying T-shirts I think. If you have a wacky design that is your favourite - let us know. I had a bumble bee T-shirt that I wore and wore as a child until it fell apart and I was gutted. What a sad day. Truth is no shirt gives me all I need on the outside unless I feel clothed on the inside with a different kind of confidence. God gives me that. He fills the gaps deep down where nobody sees. Its the real feel good factor. Divine love is the endless trend that I'll purchase for ever.