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Touching the Gold series

Walk-

through

Jim Smith

Jim Smith. Feb 2016

This material may be downloaded and copied for personal, group and

church use. It is not to be changed and it is not to be sold.

jimsmithghana@yahoo.co.uk

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Introduction

To help readers find their way through “Touching” I have provided a simple walk through. I have matched the walk-through to the section

heads in the publication available on line and in written form.

Beginnings

“Touching the Gold” begins with an experience of longing. Every Christian

should share this experience. We long to be with the Lord, because there we will be whole, healed and home. I was overwhelmed with this longing,

and reached out to touch the gold.

But it was denied me. For what I saw could only be experienced in glory. I wasn’t there yet, and I wasn’t going to be allowed to go there yet because

I had a pilgrimage to walk. I was very sad, and this is also natural. For to be denied the fulfilment of our existence was tough. At this point, the

Virgin Mary enters the scene, and is going to be ever-present on my journey. She was to be the Lord’s blessing to me. Much of what I was

about to experience I would see in her humanity, before it entered mine.

The first vision reveals much of what is to come. The way will be dark and hard. The people I meet will be dark and hard. I will be in great danger,

even with the light. Then the first tears - and what tears! The tears of a

mother “stained with the blood of her son.” Mary knows all about being identified with the sacrifice, and she knows how to plead the blood.

“Touching the Gold” is all about learning this lesson – learning to become the blood of the sacrifice, that we might release its power. It is going to

be a very costly and painful journey. If we cannot accept this, best to give the book away now.

Mocking

This is a terrible vision, triggered by me hearing blasphemy on T.V. It is so ugly. “Ripping him from the cross and destroying the sacrifice.”

For me, this became a very vivid picture. I felt the crushing and the breaking of the crucifixion, and the sharp edge of the mocking. But it got

worse. For once the sacrifice was destroyed, men and women were “ripped and destroyed.” It was a scene of total violence and defeat.

“Touching” hasn’t wasted any time. We are thrust into the heart of the

spiritual battle – the battle to destroy the cross and chain humanity. And the final poem? “Surely the worst is knowing that we are the Crucifiers.”

If intercession fails, then this is the ultimate judgement on us.

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When this vision faded I sat in shocked silence. Everything I had ever

known as a Christian was shattered by the ugliness here. Was this the path I was being called to follow? My response was simple. “No thanks.”

The sorrows I began to understand why I was seeing the Virgin Mary so much. I could

see her sorrows, and in her humanity I could see how the sorrows would

touch me. She became a mirror, in which I saw the sorrows, but I also saw myself and what I would have to become to bear them. In the vision,

the Lord confirmed that this was his intention. “The agony is too great for your spirit to bear.” That’s a comfort. The human spirit was never

designed to bear such huge spiritual burdens. That’s why we struggle so much, and get so tired. Nice poem at the end of this section – “You

offered me no words, only wounded tears which filled my soul with hope.”

The place of brokenness

For the first time, the hurt and pain of the cross began to flow in me. I

saw and experienced it through Mary. Later in the journey I would not need to experience it in this way. There is a good lesson here. Going

deeper in intercession is a gradual process. The Lord trains and equips us step by step. Let’s not judge ourselves by where others are. Each of us is

on our own journey, with our own training plan.

“Entered me and disturbed me.” It did! I was troubled by what I was

feeling. I wondered if my emotional self would be crushed under such a burden. The poem at the end is terrible. It is a repeat of what I saw at

the outset, but now it is worse. This is what we will become if we lose this spiritual battle. “An iron man reigned. He sowed in hate and reaped in

bitterness. There was no longer any hope.” My worry when I wrote this, and my worry still today is have we lost it already? Only prayer can save

us, but the prayer fire is burning low.

The place of darkness This is a terrible picture, and it can be best understood by seeing the

vision of the plough. The terrifying picture of the crucifixion tore into me like a plough rips into the ground. I was torn apart by this vision. I

became aware again of my inadequacy. How could I possibly endure such pain? Mary’s words broke me apart. “A Mother’s grief is embracing

the pain.” Angels figure a lot in “Touching.” Here I saw the “Angels of the cross.”

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The poem healed me a little, especially the last lines “He touches me.

Love too deep for words. I live again.” “Touching” moves from pain to love over and over again. It also exposed my own inadequacy and need

of his love. Be warned – it will do the same to you.

The gold

This is a challenge which will reoccur over and over again. Basically, I

want the glory but I don’t want the pain. As the poem reveals, I was already fearing that the burden would be too great for me. It was. It still

is. I think we have to be trained and equipped step by step to bear this burden. We cannot just step into it. We would be crushed.

The place of pain

My training began at once. Not only did I see all the pain of the Lord, but I had to feel it as well. “Death entered my being.” Ouch! I was helped

in this by seeing the Virgin, and how she was having to cope with it. But the intensity of her suffering frightened me. Not for the first time I felt the

unfairness of all this. It exposed my weaknesses and kept exposing them. Crucifixion yes - his not mine. I think this sums up how I was feeling.

The place of mocking

One of the hardest features of Touching” is to see and hear what looks like victory for the enemy. In this passage, the mocking voices were so

gloating, so ugly and so triumphant. The Lord made no defence against them. This is such a hard lesson to learn. If the cross is going to triumph,

then there can be no defence. The Lord has to drain the cup to the bottom. The Virgin reflects much of the shock I felt at seeing this

exposure. She is saying what I was feeling. “Stand and share” says the poem. I wasn’t sure I could do that then, and I am no more sure that I

can do it today. Perhaps this is how it should be. No room for arrogant confidence here.

The grey place

This is the last of these opening pictures. Finally, I experience what it like when the Lord is no more. But it was a desolation beyond bearing. I

couldn’t bear it. “Bruised and bleeding, I cried for my child.” I felt this pain through Mary, but even so I could not cope with it. Should I be able

to? Maybe not.

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Overshadowing The Lord knows our limits. Again and again in “Touching” I move away

from the pain to the glory. Here I glimpsed the incarnation within Mary. (I know – how can I say such a thing? This was my struggle in page after

page of this material.) It was wonderful, but the demonic attacks must have been hard to face. She must have had many doubts. Interesting to

read that while the Lord was in her, miracles happened. This is a very old

tradition of the church. She worshiped him while he was within her – quite natural. Which mother or father has never communicated with his or

her unborn child? But then, at the end, “Can you see the utter depth of my pain when he was broken before me?” The light in Mary

merely served to emphasis the darkness which I must enter.

The first sorrow Straight back into the horror of the crucifixion - the scourging seen

through Mary’s eyes. I have always found this a difficult scene to bear. I love the Lord, and I don’t like to see this pain. My response? I could not

make one. To be honest, I was shocked and speechless. “Just look” said the Lord. How could that be enough, and anyway, I couldn’t do it.

Mary’s words were deeply disturbing – “All we can do is share it.” I wasn’t sure I could even do that.

The glory

At last I am getting the message. “I felt so dirty and unclean.” The things I had seen were beginning to touch and change me. This is the

pilgrimage of “Touching.” I am on the way. This realisation led me into a vision of the Lord’s glory. It was beautiful, and so was Mary. “I was

healed of the damage.” May be of the hurt, but as we shall see, the damage remained, but would be transformed into wounds of intercession.

That’s for later. I cried when the vision left, but as I was to learn, the

strength and challenge of “Touching” is to live in the reality, not in the visons, glorious though they are. Sunrise expresses my longing for the

glory again. The desire for bearing the pain and seeing the glory were growing in me.

The cries

This is one of the most terrible pictures in “Touching” and it took me days to get over it. This was the point at which I realised I was being drawn

into a level of experience I had never experienced before. When I reached “The cries of the children entered me.” I just could not go on. But it

got worse – the Virgin covered in blood, the babies piled up round the

cross, the Lord’s look, the Virgin’s look.

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Surely this was the very depth of all thing. (Not true as I was to discover

as I journeyed on.) “I was filled with shame.” Yet again, what I was seeing was beginning to touch and change me. I remember thinking “I

have never known such pain, but I have never had such compassion to pray before.” Then the blood of the babies was on me - I suspect

because I began to pray with compassion. But as the Lord pointed out, his pain was greater. The poem says it all. “No words can express the

waste.”

The cave The cave scene resulted in me being tainted with the spirit of death. I

suppose after the children, the bodies on the floor didn’t take me any further into this hell. But what did shock me was what I saw in Mary, and

then in Jesus. This corruption was on and in them. It was another step along the path of identification - of accepting into myself the hurts, filth

and corruption of the world so that I could intercede.

Mary mentions her apparitions. There have been thousands of them, and they were –and continue to bring us to our senses. The message she

gave me was “Why do you waste the sacrifice of my Beloved Son?” Ouch! If this is a true vision, it is acutely painful and embarrassing.

“Leave us” they said. “There is no hope for us now.” I was so hurt by this response. This resignation, this surrender, this acceptance of

defeat was and never is appropriate to the offer of the Lord’s sacrifice. But I was to meet it over and over again. I wondered if it is the result of

the failure of the Intercessors. Is this a judgement on us?

Seeing the glory Here I am again – being lifted up from the depths to the heights. I was

the other side of the cross, not seeing its pain but its effect. It was electrifying. “Touching” is such a roller coaster of experiences. It’s

probably best to put up the sail and go with the wind! Beautiful poem. It just swept into me like a mighty wave. When it passed I looked up and

said “Did I really write that!” “With a little help” came the reply!

The Temple This is a complex picture. Could this be the incarnation? Or is it Mary as

she is today? If it is the latter, then she is someone very special. Yet she makes it clear that she is Mary the mother of Jesus and Mary, sister in

Christ sharing our struggles. Throughout “Touching” she constantly pointed me away from herself to Jesus, as we would expect. The poem at

the end says it all – “Lift us into your arms and we will be satisfied.” The vision maybe of Mary, but the culmination of the vision is the Lord.

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The storm

From glory into the agony of the storm, and what a storm! It tore into

me, destroying every part of me. I thought I was going to die. Mary made it clear to me that this was the crucifixion experience – to be exposed,

humiliated, mocked and destroyed. I think I was getting that message. But then the “Now” challenged me. In the spiritual world, there is no time

as we know it. Everything is now, so, in one sense, the crucifixion is now.

So the Lord is suffering crucifixion now!

I know it is difficult to grasp. Intercessors will know what I mean. In physical history the crucifixion is over. In spiritual history it is still going

on. This is how Intercessors cope with things like the stigmata, and experience Gethsemane and Calvary. (See St Francis, Therese Newmann,

Alexandria de Costa and Padre Pio among many.) But if the crucifixion is now, then many episodes of suffering lay ahead in these pages. A hard

thought. But now I knew I could not stop. The poem sums up my feelings well: To see the cross is one thing. To feel it is another. To become it -

impossible to bear. The book merely underlines the hopelessness of things as they are without the Lord.

Special graces

It’s hard to comment on this section. It is so powerfully intimate. The only way to understand it is to enter it. But like most things in “Touching” it

has a purpose on the journey. It demanded my willingness to enter in to this intimacy, which I found very difficult. The closer we get to the purity

of the Lord, the more we are aware of our failures. How can he allow such fallen creatures close to his heart? Yet being allowed close opens the path

to sacrifice – “Your sorrows are coming.” I suppose I began to

understand that in order to bear the sufferings I would have to enter deeper into his sufferings. Easy to write, but not so easy to do.

Grey mist One minute I am in glory, but the next I am forced to confront the reality

of the world in which I have to exercise my intercession. I am looking in, but I am also part of the grey world. Everything I say against it I say

against myself as well. “The flow of the cross into the hearts of the

people has been damaged.” This is a terrifying statement, and the Lord seemed to want some response from me. I had no idea what that

might mean. The boulders led me back to the cross, to another dreadful scene of carnage. I realised that as I stood there, I could not speak about

“their disgrace.” I would have to speak about “our disgrace.” I had to identify with the people as well as with the cross. “I cried at the

emptiness and the waste of my life.” Not for the last time in “touching” my own weakness comes to the front.

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The light

The spiritual world ebbs and flows, and it can do it very quickly. From the

special graves, I am plunged into the grey mist, and almost immediately the sun comes out again and I am lifted up into the light. The uplift was

so great, that I thought I had died and had been taken into glory. I rejoiced that I would at last be fulfilled as a person, but then it was all

gone. The Virgin makes the point – “how much greater is his grief.”

So I had tasted the light, but also the pain of the light bearer - to shine but be rejected. Was this to be my lot?

“The cloak of sorrow.” When I was a young Christian, I wanted all the

power and all the fizz and excitement of being the Lord’s servant. Now I am old, and he gives me my greatest blessing - his cloak of sorrow! I

didn’t reject it, because deep in my spirit it was what I wanted. Now I could be identified with him. I had been counted worthy to be sorrowful. I

never would have imagined when I began to serve him all those decades ago that this would be what I wanted.

The market

I find it almost impossible to walk readers through this dreadful section. Even as I read it, I feel the shame, the disgrace, the failure, the demonic

rejoicing and the agony of the Lord’s sacrifice which has been cheapened.

As I have written “Shame and disgrace fell on me like a lead cloak.” This time I fell, with no hope of ever rising again. The burden was just too

much for me. I remember writing these words in the early hours of the morning and stumbling back to bed in a state of shock. In the months and

years since I wrote them, that shock remains. The Lord might say that this was a sign of my progress.

Many have read “Touching”, but I suspect not so many get past this page.

If we don’t see the horror here, then we cannot go to the depths of intercession. If we do see the horror, many will not want to go to the

deep places of intercession. “Touching” is a pruning tool, and its blade is agonisingly sharp.

The seven thunders

This is the first of many “sevens” in “Touching.” Each one brings good theology and biblical understanding into all this visionary material. They

give a good foundation for our spiritual feet. Each one left me feeling stronger and more able to bear the burden which I was facing. I think

they speak for themselves. The poem is nice!

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Purity The purity of heaven is like honey in the mouth! Soft, sweet and very desirable. I sank into it like honey dripping over a dessert. Description

was hard, but the picture of the Virgin attempts to describe the indescribable. I really did want to die and remain. I could see no value in

physical life anymore. I just wanted what I was getting - forever. It was such a wrench when it disappeared. I felt bereft, and I was filled with

grief at my loss. I had to learn a painful lesson here, and it came from the Virgin: - “We live in two worlds as the same time” she said. “We

are the bridge, across which hope can flow. This is our joy and our sorrow.”

I began to see what was going on. By being willing to experience and

bear the sorrows of the Lord, I became a bridge, a conduit, a pathway by

which his sufferings could be redeemed. It seemed a high price for both of us. The poem captures the joy, the pain and the challenge.

The great silence I entered some deep places here. Each time I thought I had reached the depths, I discovered that there was more. Down and down! But each

step was more fulfilling than the last. I was reaching the point of wanting to die and remain again.

In the presence of such love, I felt the weakness of my faith, and the

offering of my heart seemed such a small thing. But it was enough, and the Lord spells out my commission. “Serving me is what you do” he

replied. “Serving is feeling, sharing and bearing my sacrifice. Bear the suffering. Be crucified with me. Look down with me from

the cross.”

This is the commission of the Intercessor. This is our life, and “Touching”

is our pilgrimage. But what would it mean? The Lord wasted no time in showing me, and it was so hard. It lasted for a moment, and that was

plenty long enough! These words summed up exactly how I felt: -

I was deeply troubled. Those few moments of pain had burned themselves into my spirit like white hot steel. How could I ever

hope to go to such a place again and again? “You will not be alone” said the Virgin, and showed me her broken hands.

But that’s just the point - I was alone, and I knew that I would have to

fight alone. “Touching” is so confusing! From the heights to the depths in an instant.

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And why me? Why not show all this to those who have great faith, and

who could stand it? Why not pick on someone who is holy, powerful and strong, instead of a powerless and weak man? These words echo exactly

my heart, and his.

I cry with despair. “Such love is beyond me!”

“But not me” he says and shows me his broken hands.

The place of refreshing/Praise of stillness

This lovely passage was such a blessing from the Lord. It did uplift me, restore me and renew me. I was in need of healing from the battering of

my emotions. The wise soldier knows that battle wounds – both body and spirit - need recognition and healing. The same is true for intercessors.

We are hit and we are hurt. We must be healed.

The desert of lovelessness For the first time when the experience got tough, I returned to the cross

for help by my own will. A small thing, but the beginning of my willingness to stand in the shadow of the suffering, rather than just

despair. I was learning!

Another big step - I was willing to go back to the desert, rather than long for heaven. Here is my first faltering step - “Lord” I asked. “How can

we help these people?” Love poured from the cross. Enough love to help every one of the hopeless people. “But how do I help

them?” I asked. The Lord looked at me in silence and in love. I

looked to him and I looked to the desert. Wearily, with a heavy heart, I trudged off back into the desert. All my love was drained

out of me by the dust and the heat. But I bore this, and comforted those I could find with His great love. It was very costly – for

them, for me and for him.

Costly! How many times have I written that word! “Touching” opened its meaning to me in a new way. I don’t seem to have ever understood it

from the position of hanging from the cross.

I want to help, But the cost is so high

And I am so weak. Oh God, how much more of this can I stand?

Remember my humanity.

“No” he said “Remember my love.”

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Oh God, this is too hard for me.

“For me too” he said and showed me his hands again.

Names

Being a prophet, this section of “Touching” looked relatively straight forward. It was the Lord’s observations on some of the nations of the

world. But “Touching” is never straight forward. Nothing is ever quite

what it seems. The whirlwind alerted me to the demonic destruction which is ever present. But the bouquet?

This is a terrible picture. The people of God rejecting the Lord himself. It’s

bad enough as it stands, but when viewed from the agony of the cross, it is a failure beyond words, and a rejection so deep as to be almost

unbearable – or that is how I felt it. I think these words make it plain.

The Lord withdrew from his people and grieved, like a father who had lost his only child. The pain was great. Stripped of all dignity,

the grief burned like a branding iron into his soul, ripping away all hope.

Who wants to feel this pain? Not me. I have already lost a child, so I

know the branding iron of this pain. Yet does our rejection of him do this

to him? God help us if it does. How are we ever going to explain ourselves? I was so ashamed of us. The poem expressed my grief. This

grief lives in my heart even as I write this. It is a shame that will never leave me. “Touching” really does expose our hearts. It spares us no pain.

It remains what I knew it was when I wrote it - a dangerous diagnostic tool, from which there is no escape, day or night.

Lost lamps How have we come to this? “Touching” now sets out to answer this question. The answer? A failure of intercession and a loss of Intercessors.

Here we see some of the reasons for the loss. Later we will come back to this vision for some solution, if there is still time. Perhaps the time for

rescuing the intercessory stream is past.

The great counterfeit “Touching” takes us to the heights of heaven, but also exposes the

kingdom of darkness. Here, we see the darkness exposed in a very big way for the first time.

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What we see is deceit - the deceit of riches and the deceit of power. But

we do not see the deceit of the blood. The blood cannot be counterfeited, nor can the cross. Firm foundations here to face the struggles which are

to come.

The seven clouds of blessing

The next “seven.” Like the seven thunders, these blessings lift the spirit,

and give confidence in the hard struggle. I just enjoyed them.

The thorns in his crown

This is the Lord explaining to me the sacrifice of his heart in a different and vivid way. I had to read them in a “sacrificial way.” In other words,

this is not just a list to be read, but a list of experiences of the Passion,

which have to be felt. How quickly we revert to the former. So easy to read about the thorns but so much harder to be wounded by them. In

many ways, this is the constant challenge of “Touching” – to stop reading and to start feeling. The last and deepest thorn is the thorn of love. So

easy to write and believe, but so hard to bear.

Father

The Father’s words - “The cross was an anvil, where my Beloved

was hammered into an instrument.” These words have to be read with the heart. Then we will see what they mean. The most beloved of

his soul hanging, broken, bleeding, undefended and alone. Try thinking this about our own children, and our emotions just cannot cope. But if we

are going to bear the sufferings, then we have to cope. Hard isn’t it.

How long?

This is a tough picture. It starts with my reward! I am in heaven, free, forgiven and ready to worship for eternity. My white robe is offered to

me. Then I hear the child crying. It’s just not fair. I have done my service. Let someone else figure things out. But the crying hurts me. It

deafens me, calls me, urges me, yearns me.

I surrendered, and it got much worse. I had to be stained by the blood and vomit of the child. And it got worse. I had to struggle to the cross

with the child, and stand while the blood of the sacrifice flowed. For me this was a tragedy. I had lost the glory and heaven. Now I was covered in

sick and blood. I thought I had reached the end of all things. I had come to this – an old and weary man, standing in the dirt and dust of

execution, holding a battered and broken child who had vomited all over

him. For this I had abandoned heaven?

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When I wrote “Oh God help me” I was truly crying from the bottom of my

heart. For I could not see how things could get worse. I was in despair. The Lord might say that I was growing up into my call. Hard hard path.

The curses of the cross We tend to see the cross as one event - the suffering of Jesus - and of course it is that. But it is much more complex than just that, and here the

Lord gives us an insight into some of the surrounding issues of the cross, specifically the curses he had to take into himself and deal with in his

passion. It’s a gruelling list - the innocent blood of children, the obscenity of lust, the bondage of the world, the degradation of women, the

blindness of intellect, the demonic bondages, the sacrifice of children.

These curses surround the cross, and will surround Intercessors. We need

to know what we are up against as we bear the burden. This is an aggressive battle, into which we are called to stand, bear and love. It’s

not for the faint hearted.

Gethsemane I asked for more strength, and the Lord called me into Gethsemane, to

watch his agony. I suppose, for Intercessors, this makes sense. We can only find him in the centre of the struggle, and he is our only strength.

But when the demonic turned on me, I realised how weak I was. “You can always come back again.” But I just wanted to go back to

glory. I didn’t want to come back to this place. Yet if I was to be a bridge between the suffering world and the suffering Lord, I would have to come

back here.

The house of greater love

Another startling contrast. From Gethsemane to the greater love. I think it speaks for itself, but I finished up “dissolved into loveliness.” Mary

looked stunningly beautiful. What a contrast to the sorrow and grief. There was no other purpose for being there but to worship the Lord. We

did. The poem is Celtic in form.

Two worlds

“Touching” lives in two worlds, and I seem to be shuttling between the two all the time. Both are very hard to describe - one beautiful beyond

belief and the other painful beyond description. Mary’s words sum it up well. “The cross stands between these two worlds. We have to

able to bear the pain of the one, so that his creation can find its way to the other.”

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O.K., but its not much fun being a bridge. With a foot in both camps but not being able to commit to either, people trample on you! Again the

poem catches my dilemma well – I wanted to wear a crown, but not to have to carry a cross. I wanted to be a son not a bridge. I wish I had not

written these words, because the Lord answered me very clearly. “Love” he said, and showed me his broken hands. Ouch!

Bells of praise

Up we go again! Just a lovely experience. Enjoy!

Come up I didn’t spend long in joy and praise. The Lord showed me his heart, and I knew that this was going to be a hard path. For the pain that he was

enduring, and which I would have to endure was as a result of our disobedience and arrogance. If only there was someone else to blame!

I’m back to doubting my strength to endure again. I wonder if I will ever

be strong enough. Read on to find out the answer, although I had guessed it already. I will never, if I live to be a hundred, have the

strength. Learning this is the key to enduring.

Hard nails

How had we broken his heart? “Hard nails” gives the painful answer. “My people did not protect their hearts.” The result of this failure is now

revealed, as I see the nails being driven into the Lord. Our nails, being

used by our enemy to crucify our Lord. Not very edifying is it?

Thorns The path to Calvary is a hard one. Thorns are a good picture. Hard and

spiky, they dig in deep and hurt. But how else can we expect to get to the cross except along such a path? I grasped the essence of the vision but

then the reality was so painful. I didn’t want to move, because I feared the thorns, yet I was crying for the child. Then the cross called me.

What a powerful call this was and is. It tugged so hard at my heart that I struggled toward the child, even through the pain.

I struggled to the cross hoping to lay down my burden, but it was not to

be. How easily we take half the burden, and leave the rest to him. The whole burden was and is to take the child to the cross and stay with the

child.

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Why must it be so hard?

I only long to help, yet that longing

crucifies me, and I cannot bear the pain.

Yes, this is exactly it. Crucified by the longing to love. Yet again – ouch!

The seven sufferings of the Trinity

I found this “seven” profoundly unsettling. I felt like an intruder, seeing deep and hidden things which I should not have seen. How terribly deep

are the wounds in the Trinity, and how many of them have to be laid at our feet. I was embarrassed, shocked and ashamed. Why did the Lord

show this to me? I suppose I had to know the depths to which we had sunk. It gives a new depth to his forgiveness.

In the company of angels

Down and then up – the normal pattern! This was such a blessing to me, especially being held by the broken hands of the Lord.

His heart

Up and up and up! This vision of the Lord’s heart almost defies description. I have been reading Angela of Foligno (“Memorial”) and she

says that sometimes words cheapen what we see. This is almost true here. I cannot really describe the sense of rising up into the beauty and

greatness of the Lord. On and on it went. When it stopped, I thought I had seen it all. Then he showed me the greatest feature of his heart – his

greatest jewel, his greatest love, his greatest joy. Me!

There is no adequate response to this. There never has been and here never will be. Wow!

Stillness

Were do we go after the last vision? To the place of stillness. There is nothing I can add to what I have written there. Isn’t it amazing that for

all the greatness of heaven, it awaits us to compete it. Good to be reminded that, for all our weakness, we have a key part to play in the

spiritual world. We are his song. Isn’t that lovely. We are his melody and the words, the beat and the emotion. He sings us day and night. He sings

us, not about us. He is intimate with us and in us.

We are so quick to put ourselves down, but if we are the Lord’s song,

what have we to fear? I am your song. Sing me. Yes please!

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The whirlwind

The whirlwind starts the beginning of a new series of experiences. Those who want to intercede at the cross become targets for Satan’s most

destructive forces. The whirlwind destroyed me totally – at least that’s how it felt. When it had passed I was exhausted, but I was still able to

hear the Lord’s warning. It looked like things were going to get tougher.

“Touching” is a relentless experience isn’t it.

The spite No respite. The Spite was an ugly experience, and I had to witness its

effects on the Virgin. In many ways this made it harder to bear. She refused to protect herself. This is a feature of “Touching” which will begin

to appear over and over again. We are called to bear, not to protect ourselves. We have to be open to the spite, if we are going to truly suffer

crucifixion.

The anvil

No respite. Intercessors will be broken on the anvil. There is no other

way. The poem says it all: -

I cannot bear the pain

or the strain. I am weak and have little strength.

Please show me a different way.

“Only one way” he said, and loved me. I cried.

The forest of the lost

Here we go again! I found myself being beaten on the anvil of the Lord’s love, but for me this was progress – a call to identification.

Her sorrow swept into me. It was like a plough tearing into my heart. I felt the waste, the loneliness, the futility, the anger and

the despair of a world which has turned away from the Beloved. “This is where you must come” said the Virgin. “Here is where

intercession flows, not from the place of comfort, or from within any security. Here, helpless and hurting, you must come to my

Beloved. You must plant his cross here, in this barren place and in your heart. You must become this barrenness. This is your

crucifixion.”

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Slowly it is dawning on me. There are more ways of being crucified than to be nailed to a cross. Mine, so it was appearing, was to be identified

with the lost and the broken, and to be this at the cross. I lasted about 10 seconds! But it was a beginning.

The false light The Accuser is always afraid of people seeing the love, so he shines his accusations. The trouble for me is that he shone it on me as well. I

became so aware of my weakness. I had yet to work out that knowing my weakness is the only safe way. This issue would reoccur many times, until

it finally crushed me. Only then could I move freely into the sacrifice.

Beginning to intercede This was a key moment for me. I fell in the blood as I tried to intercede. I just could not work out how to do it. Then the woman appeared, and I

saw her pain. But then it became mine. I really became maggots and filth, and endured the hot blast of God’s righteous judgement against me.

It was intensely uncomfortable and painful. Then the Love overflowed into me, and I felt cool and calm and loved.

So this is what it means to intercede at the cross. To stand between God’s

creatures and his judgement. I had to think long and hard after this experience. It was a challenge to me. Was I prepared to go further down

this path, because I could see that the consequences would be very hard for me. This wasn’t my selfish heart speaking, but me obeying the Lord’s

command to decide before going into battle whether I had the recourses to endure and overcome.

Life in the Spirit From the judgement to life in the Spirit. This was a lovely experience. I

splashed around like a child, and every time more and more of the Spirit splashed over me. I think we forget sometimes what a lot of fun the Holy

Spirit is! It was a joyful time, yet there was a warning in the second part – the man being rejected by many. As we are learning, we cannot have

the joy without the suffering. We have to grow strong enough to bear both – not an easy thing to do.

The hands

Strength and courage can only be found in being totally absorbed in the Father’s arms. This was such a moving experience, especially after the

other things which I had endured.

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But as I was discovering, these experiences of closeness were usually the

forerunner to even tougher things to come. The Lord strengthens us for what we have to face. Poem is nice! The river of delight was a surprise

and another great joy. Nice.

Calvary

I think I expected another shock, but I was surprised. Perhaps the shock

of Calvary was fading, and I was able to begin to appreciate what I was

expected to do there. These words were some I thought a lot about: - The Lord spoke to me. “You too will be complete when you are

clothed with my sacrifice. Then you will be able.” “Able to what?” I asked. “To bear” he replied.

I was beginning to understand something about “Touching the gold.” It’s

a relentless experience, but it just that - an experience. It’s a journey, a progression from outside to inside. The various shocks we have seen so

far will turn people away from the journey. If anyone is still with me, they have survived these impacts, and want to learn to bear. Welcome. But be

warned - it is going to get a lot tougher before it is over.

The seven loves of Mary This beautiful passage is an insight into the love of the Lord for his creation, as seen through the eyes of the Blessed Virgin. I will let the

words stand for themselves, although, as usual, they have a challenge in them for me. Could I ever reach such a level of love? Did I need to?

The fellowship of the crucified So far, I had been dealing mostly with the Lord, but now I was to discover

that I was not alone. The fellowship of the crucified is, I think, another name for those who have gone before us, who have fought the fight, who

have carried the pain of Calvary and have triumphed. They were not wearing white garments but clothes stained in blood. How encouraging.

The sacrifices we make, our bearing and enduring are precious in heaven.

I was enrolled in their company. Was I worthy of such an honour? I suppose the truth is that without their support I was not going to survive.

I rejoiced at their company, and squared my shoulders for the fight, as they had done, and in prayer and encouragement, as they still do. We will

meet them again later, and get a better idea of their function.

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The place of corruption

When blood stops flowing, our bodies decay. This is an ugly and filthy

process. This is what lies under this revelation. To reject the blood of Jesus is to die, to rot, to decay, to be filth and maggots. But why not just

leave it at that? But the Lord embraces all this decay and corruption, out of his love - the greater love which was still beyond me. I wasn’t too

happy with what I was seeing. I could see too clearly which way it was

leading. I had quickly forgotten all the good things he had shown me. I could only see the cost for me personally. Self was still reigning in me.

But then the vision changed and I saw the healing stream flowing from

the cross to people that could not find it. Before I could get any understanding, the maggots covered me and I was corruption and filth. I

had been here before, and hated it. But before I could express my own will, I heard voices crying from within the corruption. What was I to do?

How could I abandon them? In my uncertainty I came to the cross and stood, maggot-ridden and filthy, uncertain and perplexed.

This was my first tentative step in bearing - in bearing the pain, making it

mine and bringing it to the cross. I couldn’t see what I had achieved, and yet...? The Lord said “So you are beginning to understand.” Was I?

It seemed as though I had never known the cross before.

And now I did, I was afraid of what it might demand of me.

The seven defeats of Satan Like the other “sevens”, this one encouraged me and strengthened my spirit. Enjoy!

The great light I really enjoyed this vision at first, until I discovered that it was a vision I could not have. I would have to exchange the “Great light” for this: -

“Your destiny lies that way” and she pointed to the place of

corruption. “To sacrifice the light for the agony of the world, to bear and share the sacrifice and to hang from the cross is your

future. This great sacrifice is one of your sorrows. It was mine also.”

It’s best to know the cost. Then the enemy has no room to manoeuvre.

But what a cost! I was being asked to bear the burden which the Lord carried.

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No only did I feel worthless in the presence of his sacrificial love, I just

could not imagine how I would do it. Even a toothache reduces me to helplessness!

“Touching” is at it again, relentlessly pushing me against the cross and

challenging my commitment. This is not much fun is it? The poem says it all, and it comes from a very troubled heart: -

Why must it be so hard?

Why can’t I have the joys? Why must I suffer so?

No answer came. This is the way it has to be –

for him, and me.

The praises of the cross

This vision just kept unfolding before me. It started with the praises of the cross. The world sees the cross as a place of insult and defeat, but

that’s not how it is seen in heaven. Deeper and deeper I went into these praises, and I was running out of words! The pure angels of love

reminded me of the Seraphim. I had never seen such a quality of love before. I saw it with my heart, not my mind. I suppose the gentle rain

was the Lord’s acceptance that I had run out of words. The rain just ran

down me. I stood and enjoyed.

The poem is very deep. It reflects, I think, me discovering myself within all this agony and suffering. Strange to think that in the middle of the

hurt of the cross I was discovering who I really was. Something very profound here I think. If only I could explain it better!

The guardians of the gates I hope these notes are making some sense. “Touching” looks strange when it is broken into its parts. It’s just one big experience. The individual

bits only fit when they roll on one after the other.

So on to the Guardians, and what a comfort they are! Mighty and

powerful, they manifest the blood of the sacrifice over the sheepfold of the church. Let’s leave it at that for now. We will come back to them

later, but let’s rejoice that, even when the church is under attack, great spiritual powers are with us.

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Seeking “Touching” is not a passive book. It is written within the pilgrimage which I was on. So I saw that I must begin to seek those who were lost, in

order to bring them to the cross.

It was a tentative beginning. I had to learn how to “manifest” the cross within myself. I struggled with this word. But I remembered “Epiphany.”

Jesus “epiphanied” himself to us. He manifested himself. He revealed himself in a form we could understand. The challenge for me was to learn

to do the same with the cross. It seemed a daunting challenge and one which frightened me. The real fear was my own weakness.

So I made a small beginning. We must all do the same. But as yet, in

“Touching” I had not grasped the depths of the cross, or the challenge to

my own heart. Much more to come. Time to put on our tin helmets!

Hell again From the highest to the very lowest again. This as a terrifying experience,

but opened my understanding to another aspect of the cross. This terrible isolation, confinement and mocking is part of the crucifixion experience.

As I was learning, it is a multi-faceted experience. My ability to endure this kind of pressure was seen by the Lord as progress. The future for me,

as I saw it, did not look bright.

The name The Lord equipped me with the “Name.” I had to hold on to this name. I

should have used it in the previous episode, but I didn’t. I must not make that mistake again.

Bearing the blood: Bearing the child: The babies

Three terrible visions in a row begin to outline what it means to bear. I

don’t think I realised that at the time, because I was too shocked at what

I had seen. I don’t think I want to comment on them - and I don’t think I can comment on them. They stand for themselves, and if they do not

impact the reader, then it is time to put this book away.

Stillness This was an incredible experience. I was sucked towards the cross with an

incredible power, to it and through it and beyond it. I never imagined such a place - a place of redemption, love and wholeness. Words cannot

describe it. I disintegrated into his otherness and died of love.

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Many of the mystic Christians speak of this sense of dying in the love of

the Lord. Of entering that total completeness which allows of no doubt. Of finally knowing for what we were made – to love God and to enjoy him

forever.

The garden of delights One last taste of heaven before I was plunged again into the misery! It

was wonderful to see the Lord in all things. This isn’t always possible within our physical limitations, but these limits do not apply in the

spiritual world.

The place of death Another terrible picture - living corpses. The chalice of overflowing love

has to be viewed against the horror of the corpses. I couldn’t fall into it

quick enough! A strange thing happened to me at this point. I loved and longed for the corpses. I must be progressing, because initially I would

have run from them in disgust. Maybe I was beginning to understand. The poem reflects the corpses who began to hope. Yet again very difficult to

describe.

Pieta If anyone has seen the Pieta in the Vatican, or any copy, then this picture

will move the heart. The Virgin held her son. I was expected to do the same. “Passion and Pieta must mark your life if you are going to

serve.” I think I was getting this message, but this picture makes the point with incredible force. I had to hold the Lord in my arms, even as I

came to his cross. I wasn’t sure I could do that, as the poem suggests.

Too strong

What an ugly picture. Hell being crowned and exalted. The names of the worshippers were terrible, and their power over the church was very

disappointing. Their strategy is clear. To empty the cross. I felt powerless in the face of this aggression. But I did not receive comfort. Only the

warning - There is so little time.

The seven blessings of the Eucharist I think this is a beautiful passage. It strengthens the spirit and gladdens the heart! I will leave it to speak for itself.

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The garden of many hopes Gardens, like stillnesses, feature often in “Touching.” This is a very

beautiful one, and has a change of emphasis in the middle of it. I was enjoying the garden, and was surprised to be told that “You are my

meadow. You are the hope of my life. As you flower, you shine with my beauty.” We are so hard on ourselves as Intercessors. We see

only the faults and weakness - as we have seen them in me page by

page. The Lord sees all this of course, but he also sees something else. He loves us, and loves being with us, and plants all his hopes in us.

Amazing isn’t it?

The vision of Mary helped me understand the garden, and what lay beyond it. The garden is not an end in itself, but a place where strength

can flow to help in the struggle. The garden is a vision to sustain through the dark days. Evil yields, but only for a time. The struggle of the

Intercessor is at the cross, not in this garden.

The hope which never yields The wall of glass appears a number of times. This time the picture of the

ship is added to it. The message is simple. The people could not hear the warning. This is a common experience all over the world. People do not

want to hear about spiritual danger. Most cannot believe that judgement is coming. The dark satanic army was just waiting its chance.

The hope which never yields (2) The second phase of “The hope” is not good. Most would not believe in any message of impending judgement. The few that did were a defeated

group – overwhelmed by the larger group. This is why Intercessors have

been swept away. Small and defeated, they have just gone quiet in the face of the louder and more popular “all is well” message.

The storm This is a painful picture. It was hard enough seeing the Lord and the Virgin suffering, but when it all fell on me, I was in despair. But I didn’t

run away. Somehow I found the strength to hang. I really felt like I was hanging. Was I? This is an impossible question to answer. Impressions

were rushing at me so fast. The light of the eternal unyielding began to burn in me. Bearing, like everything else in the Kingdom, is a gift

which comes from God. The poem brings a truth to the front which was going to be increasing important to me. “It is best” he said “to hang in

silence.” Silenced, I hung and suffered.

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Hold my hand I struggled with this passage. I always struggle when the Lord wants to tell me that he loves me and needs me. It always seems so awkward – or

perhaps I am awkward about it. But he is not at all awkward. He takes my hand and he feels good. How amazing is that!

Sin entered me By now we are familiar with how “Touching” works. From deep love to deepest hell. For the first time I was exposed to the true consequences of

sin. I remember how the three Visionaries of Fatima had a similar experience and how deeply it affected them. This vision deeply touched

me. This is why Jesus went to the cross. This is what he delivered us from, but at what a cost. He had to bear this, alone and in agony. Must I

do the same?

Golden oil The oil flowed from the cross. I don’t think I had appreciated this before. Good and healing things flow from the cross, as well as blood and pain. I

think the Virgin’s words are very profound.

Why? This question had to come eventually, but it had to come at the right

moment, when I was battered and bruised. The answer I think I already knew. Only by being broken and staying broken could I understand the

cross and the pain of the lost world. “Touching” had trapped me! Now I

couldn’t go back. The only way was on – but at what price?

Is “Is” was nice, and still is. I couldn’t explain it when I saw it and I cannot

explain it now. It’s a gateway into what follows.

Light and dark The two lights were very clear to me. The question was simple. Why

didn’t the Lord just shine, and darkness would flee. The answer was simple as well. “The people have to be drawn by love.” If only there was

an easier way.

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Inner light From light to darkness is one short passage! The Temples of darkness were very threatening. The light began to shine from within me. There is

no other way. If it is external, it can be extinguished. Once it is inside, the only way to extinguish it is to kill me. Not a happy thought.

The closer to the cross you come, the stronger becomes your

ability to bear and the enemy fears this above all. He remembers his defeat at Calvary. This is not a happy thought either. In order to

bear the pressure of the enemy, I have to move deeper into the suffering of the Lord. Not much of a choice is it? But this is “Touching.” It forces us

to make decisions, and leaves no escape route.

The eternal ark It is almost impossible for me to comment on this passage, as it comes

from such a deep place within me. To see the Virgin, and then to be touched by the Lord and by the blood. Such experiences are almost too

sacred to speak about. I struggled with the words, and wanted to give up on them, but the Lord insisted, so here they are.

The healing stream This vision was so beautiful. To sit by the stream with the Lord and to be

healed by him. Almost too wonderful for words. I just enjoyed it for what it was – a blessing beyond my imagination. We all need healing from time

to time, and in the flow of “Touching” it is a desperate need because “Touching” really hurts. I sat in the silence of eternity and grew strong

again. Nice.

Deeper love I realised that to continue, I needed a deeper love - the love which the

Virgin clearly had. But the Lord warned me of the cost. I think I had already understood the cost, but it seemed that however much I paid, it

was not enough. The path, I realised, was going to get a lot harder.

Entering Embrace the desert? But this would kill me. Yet as I looked at the cross, I saw that the Lord welcomed and loved the desert. This was how

he broke its power. I don’t know how I did it, but I embraced the desert too, and it almost killed me. But at the same time, love began to flow in

me at the deeper level I so longed for.

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Then, for the first time I touched the gold – the incredible flow of

sacrificial love which flows from the cross into the hearts of those who will bear the pain. But I almost died under the impact. I needed more

strength.

The forging I saw the cross as a forge. The Lord was being forged by the suffering, and so was I. But what an incredible picture follows. I am being forged by

love. It pressed so hard into me that I could not breathe. I was pushed so closely to the Lord that my nature was changed, for an instant, into his. I

was branded by the intensity of his love. “Touching” is moving on again, forcing me into the arms of the cross, where I can be changed. The

poem describes exactly how I felt.

Rejection No time to rest in my new forging. Immediately I am thrown into a world which does not care. It’s a terrible picture, but contains such a brutal

challenge - “Now you must enter the desolation of the cross.” This I did not want. I was already battered and bruised. But I got it anyway,

and then I realised that I had not really understood the nature of the Lord’s sufferings, until the demonic turned on me. Even now, many

months after writing it, I shudder at the impact. I knew for certain that I had looked at the cross many times, but never understood it.

The rivers

Another tough challenge - to enter the love of the cross. It’s strange to think that this hurt so much. The sufferings are bad enough. How can

love hurt more? And how about having the courage to stand in the flow of the dark river? Very challenging passage, which took me some time to

absorb. The poem frightened me - especially the last line. Are there so few that the Lord is reduced to asking people like me?

The seven faiths of heaven A lovely healing passage. A break in the agony.

Bearing the weight A really tough passage. Good job I had enjoyed the faiths of heaven. The weight of the cross fell on me. I managed to last one second and then I

fell. The picture of the Virgin was little encouragement. This we have to bear if we are going to touch the glory. This was the last thing I

wanted to hear.

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Softly now The Lord knows our limits. I would have died under the weight of the cross if the angels had not come to help me. It was, I knew, only a

temporary rest, but very welcome. How strange to be under the agony of the cross one minute, and in heaven the next. I was getting used to it.

Love heals Here is the dilemma of “Touching” clearly revealed. I want the love. I want to touch the gold – and I can. But only by being crucified. What a

hard choice to make, and it is a choice. We can only come to this decision willingly and freely. There is no compulsion here. Love heals – but at a

price. The question to me is “Can I afford to pay?” I wasn’t sure.

Glory rising

Same again. I touch the glory, which is what I want, only to find that the path lays through the cross, and my own crucifixion. I want to love but

the more I do the more I find I have to suffer. “Touching” is slowly closing down my options.

Golden light Wow! What can I say or what can I add? I touched the gold again, and it

was deeply moving. It seemed a long way from the cross with all its filth and agony. Is this what I get if I will walk the way of the cross?

Foundation This began well. What a beautiful series of pictures, until the Virgin made me look at the reality of the world. Then I saw the destruction of

humanity. I suspected that the Lord was trying to help me make the connection between glory, the cross, love and his broken creation. I had

all the bits in my box, but I could not yet them together and make sense of them. In the picture of the broken man, I began to make some sense

of things. Was this the way I must walk? Was this my path to Calvary?

The poem begins to crystallise what I was thinking.

The place of apostasy But why was I fighting alone? Where were God’s people? Giving away the

treasures of the kingdom.

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The glass wall This glass wall has appeared before. Here it made it impossible for me to make the people hear. But my frustration was misplaced. My desire to

help them was flowing from the wrong place. First I had to desire to bear the Lord’s burden, then I could help the people. But it seemed so

hopeless. “Just bear it” he said. ”There is no other way.” If only!

The place of change Time for regrouping. The Spirit took me to glory, which uplifted my heart.

Then the Lord re-stated my calling in words which I could understand only too well. Now the challenge was clear, but still my humanity clung to me,

and my weaknesses challenged me and rebuked me. “You must choose.” “Touching” is pushing me again to the edge, where I must make a

decision to hang with the Crucified One, or stand at the foot of his cross and just look up. I wanted the second, but I knew that the gold lay in the

first. A very hard choice to make.

The widow

I was shocked at this passage. I don’t know why the Lord revealed it to

me here, but he did. Receiving the pain of childlessness is all part of the

crucified experience. The Lord places a vey high value on children and widows.

The place of caressing Time for another visit to the place of healing. These experiences were damaging me greatly, but the deeper pain was the challenge to surrender

and bear. In the peace of the Father, I knew that I could bear the cross, but would I. My humanity just kept kicking at the cost.

Touching the gold/The Virgin

Mary did not rebel. She suffered, bore the cross and touched the gold. Her example encouraged me.

Walking with me

This is the Lord as he really is, even on the cross. I think he was trying to

help me see that in sacrificing myself to the cross, I would lose nothing and gain everything. I came to some kind of resolution here. I followed

her into the world’s night. Followed - but not yet surrendered as the Lord needed me to surrender. Still more pilgrimage to go before I reached

that point - if ever.

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Waiting

What a lovely thought – angels of Preparation! An angelic band, set aside for the Lord to release on specific occasions and for specific purposes.

They were a wonderful sight, and a great comfort to me. I noticed (afterwards) that the poem refers to suffering and service. It looks like

the message is beginning to enter me even at the creative level.

The dark place This was a complicated revelation. First I saw the demonic attack on the

Virgin - not for the first time. This has happened before. Then this - “Now we must absorb this demonic aggression, and bear it in our

bodies to the cross, where the blood can break it.”

This takes a little thinking about. Bearing begins with absorbing. That is

followed by carrying what is absorbed to the cross, where it is broken by the blood of the Lord. I think that makes some sort of sense. But the

thought of doing it over and over again - frightening.

Roses I think this speaks for itself. It was a reassuring picture from one angle.

The roses were wonderful as I looked back. But what of the future? Each rose had cost me so much. I know “Touching!” Encouragements usually

lead to a deeper level of suffering.

Nails and aggression I was right! I sank into such a dark place. Only grace could save me. I

was challenged by this - “You will grow stronger in the face of these attacks” said the Virgin. “But you must learn to hide yourself in

the Lord and never lean on your own understanding. It is only through his grace and much prayer that you will conquer the dark

powers.”

Hiding myself in Jesus. That looked like a possible way ahead. We will

have to see. The poem is from St. Patrick’s breastplate. Things are getting tough. I need tough weapons to defend me.

Gethsemane I have been here before. But now the battle is harder. I couldn’t see my

place in this struggle so the Lord made it clear – it’s about sharing. Yet

again, my humanity overcame me, and I knew I could not reach this standard. Humanity has been a constant problem in this journey.

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The poem says it all. When I stated I thought I could last. Now, half way

through the journey, I know I can’t. May be this is progress, although it looked to me like failure.

Angelic protection

I think these must have been the angels the Lord assigned to go ahead of me. This time I did more than look. I placed them where I thought I

needed them. We must not be slow in deploying that which the Lord has

given us. Some tell me that they have never seen angels. That doesn’t stop us calling on their protection.

The storm Some progress here. When the waves broke over me, I didn’t try to hide. I tried to accept them and offer them to the Lord. Then I saw the people

and heard their cries, and I took those cries into myself. The agony was unbearable, but I tried to hold them in me and bring the cries to the cross

as if they were my cries. When I got to the cross, the cries poured out of me and entered the Lord. Immediately the waves disappeared, and some

healing began to flow. Was this progress? It appears so, until we read the poem. Same old problem. My humanity just cannot bow to the sacrifice.

Will I ever get over this hurdle?

Stillness I have been here before. But this time, it was a temporary stay, just to encourage me.

Pieta

The vision begins with the Pieta. Mary, holding the dead body of her son. It was so vivid that it frightened me. When she asked “Who will share

this burden with me?” I certainly wasn’t going to say “Yes.” Then she showed me the burden.

It was a terrible vision of the rampant destruction of God’s people in

Europe. A prophetic vision, where the enemy mocks “Pieta” and destroys

God’s people at will. The cries of agony were endless. Mary’s cry was staggering. Was she seeing God’s people in Europe as her son? So was

the Pieta her holding Europe?

At the cross, blood flowed from his side. I felt so ashamed, but imagine my shock when I looked down and found I was holding the child Europe.

Words fail me here. Words ceased in an agony of sorrow and love.

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Then the command to take the sacrifice to Europe. So I tried. The

passage I spoke is a long prophetic word. No one listened, and here is the agony of “Touching.” The Lord is bleeding from love. He is in agony for his

children. But they pass him by, but he still continues to suffer and love.

God forgive us.

The great Alleluia This is another incredible vision which defies words. I was drawn so deep

into heaven, and my life was so deeply hidden in Christ, that I thought I had come to the end of my life. “Exploding into diamonds and

precious stones” was the best I could describe it. When the vision left and I was still alive but I was bereft. The Lord touched me and I saw the

diamonds in him, but I felt that they were not in me anymore.

Humility It’s hard to comment here. I think the material is self explanatory. May be I was changing. It seemed, from the perspective of heaven that I was.

The cloak of humility - what an honour. Could I live up to it?

The dying child It doesn’t come a lot worse than this. The burden of the dying child was

an agony which defies all words. Yet it was a doorway for me. At last, I seemed to be breaking the grip of my humanity. Branded – it’s a good

word. This mark, this moment would never leave me. Now the doors to deeper sacrifice opened to me, and I was willing, with some trepidation,

to enter. The poem needs no comment. It was terrible to write and

terrible to read. The thorns are biting very deep.

Come deeper in/and deeper/and deeper

So the doorway opens. First I discovered deeper wounds on my body.

I hadn’t realised that I was wounded, but I suppose I must have been. Now they were deeper. The child cried, and the wounds got deeper. These

deeper wounds gave me access to his heart in a way I had never experienced before. I reached a depth which, yet again, words could

hardly describe. Deeper in wounds and deeper in closeness. Very moving but also vey challenging.

A new place At last - almost there! Now the sacrifice has become part of me. I no

longer tried to push it away, because I could not.

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But this brought it own peace. Now I am branded. Yes - that’s exactly

the right word. I thought first of the word “hallmarked” but that didn’t quite fit. “Branded” was how it felt. Branded by the cross - not a bad

place to be.

The price is high A sad picture of intercessory failure. So few want to bear the wounds –

they just want to pray about them. Trying to convince them to change their ways was fruitless – even though the ways they had been using had

failed. They had failed, but they would not change. They were going to go on feeling failures, go on using the old ways and fail again. I had

sympathy – I had once been the same.

The iron god This passage reflects the price the world would pay for intercessory failure. The task of the intercessors was to prevent the iron god having

his way. If we had carried the burden in our spirit to the cross, this god would never have grown in power. This is where the failed ways of

intercession have led us. But there was no room for judging - the consequence of the iron man had to be absorbed into my heart and

brought to the cross. I came again to Calvary and harsh hands pinned me to the cross. The Lord spoke. “Now do you

understand?” I think I was beginning to.

The shepherds The “Iron man” became an army, and ravaged the church. I allowed all

this to impact me. No trying to keep it out anymore. The image of the plough is a good one. I did feel ploughed up. There was pain everywhere.

Bearing is a painful experience at the deeper levels. The poem is exactly where I was, and still am every day.

The high mountain Was I running away? I don’t think so - I was just looking for some

courage. But the Lord made it clear that he expects me to find it in the struggle, not apart from it. Good point.

Desolation

Down I go again, finding yet a deeper level of bearing. At least I didn’t run away. Those days seem to be over – maybe. “I hung on the cross

with him and endured.” In the end, what else is there to do?

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Flames of fire I think this experience was almost beyond my ability to explain. Being

touched by the Spirit was such an exquisite experience, that I never wanted anything else ever again. But then I saw another side of Him at

the cross. “I am waiting for the moment of consummation, the moment of holocaust, the moment of the complete filling up of the

sacrifice. Then I can move into and against the darkness through

those who bear the sacrifice. Through them we can break the enemy and the sacrifice can triumph.”

I saw the pain of his waiting. He had all the power, yet held back until the

holocaust was complete. That took strength beyond my imagining to achieve. To wait and wait, allowing the sacrifice to be completed.

Beautiful poem.

The candle What a challenging experience. First the comfort of the candle, then being

lifted up into glory. I thought I was home at last, and then almost without a break I was back on the cross. “This cross is my glory. And this

must be your home.” How could he say such a thing, and more to the point, how could I bear it? Yet here is the challenge – from the cross my

prayers could be heard. What a painful choice. “Touching” continued to

push and challenge.

The heart of darkness

It’s easy to forget, in all the struggle to bear that the cross is powerful. “However dark it seems to you” said the Lord, “my blood has gone

deeper. I bore their reproach. Their power is a lie. They can be

pushed back.” Absorbing, suffering and bearing look like weak words. But they are incredibly powerful, focusing all the power and majesty of

heaven on the dark powers. They cannot stand those who absorb, suffer and bear.

The seven lights of heaven I think this passage speaks for itself. “Touching” reveals its theology in these various “sevens.” This one is very uplifting.

Angels Angels play a big part in “Touching”. Here they are a “Shekinah” over me.

Isn’t that a beautiful picture? The Lord’s glory is over me, represented by the angels. I am covered and safe. The poem captures my feelings well.

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Pouring

It’s so hard to explain this section. I am moving to the climax of “Touching.” Now I am being poured out. The suffering of the cross has

become part of me and is flowing through me. This process will, I know, kill me. I know I cannot survive such a pouring, but I also know that I

must allow it - I want to allow it. The poem captures exactly the process. Where do I go from here?

Broken man

This is so terrible. The Lord came to his own people, but they failed him. Thy failed to hold the sacrifice, to live the sacrifice or to plead the

sacrifice. So I drew the inevitable conclusion, and asked the Lord to allow me to bear this sorrow to him, and allow the sacrifice to flow through me.

This was a fatal move. I felt the pain and felt my own death.

The child/the Leaders More of the grief and sorrow which the church has brought to the Lord.

The angels

Angels again, and as usual I want to be with them. I got drawn into them,

and the world was drifting away, until I heard the cry of the child. I really didn’t see why it should be my burden. So my humanity is still exercising

a pull on me! But the call of the cross is getting stronger and stronger. “There’s hope in our tears” said the Virgin. “For in them we bear

the suffering of the child. Healing can begin.” “Yes” I said, “but

who will cry with us?” “Some” she replied. Only some - that’s bad news.

The seven trees of blessing Another seven to encourage.

Deeper prayer I think this question had been in my mind for some time. I need a deeper

quality of prayer. I always seemed to be out of my depth. But deeper prayer is a gift the Lord has to grant, and finally he gave it to me. The

poem touches a deep place.

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The holy place I was finally drawn into the arms of the cross. Almost the final surrender.

The darkest places

The two rivers were very different. The filthy one found its match at the cross. The cleansing one was sparkling clear and full of life. But the

cleansing one was released as the Lord suffered, and consequently as I

suffered as well. If only there could be another way, but by now I know there is no other way.

Freedom “Touching” has habit of going from low to high, and so it was again here. But when the “high” was over, some of the hope and thrill remained. In

our struggle, we can draw heaven into our spirits. This gives us strength and courage. The poem is quite challenging.

How?

This is, for a prophet, a profound passage. It is a challenge to God’s

people to get their lives and their spirituality back into line. But the response is mixed. So many people look for any other route rather than

bearing the sufferings. Yet it is in this bearing that we have endured for 2000 years. Some rejected the message, some set conditions, some tired

and a few - a very few saw through the process which I have been sharing in “Touching.” So few. But a few for the Lord is enough. Good job

it is, because that is usually all he gets. The poem made me cry.

The search The intercessors of the world have failed. If we had not failed, we would

have filled the watchtowers, and God’s people would have had protection. What happened? “Touching” suggests that the intercessors were

deceived, denied and destroyed. The only hope is that some of them could be relit. The Lord does not seem very optimistic.

Flowers What a glorious vision of what is to come. It was a delight to see the flowers, and a delight to walk in the garden with the Lord. But by now I

knew what was happening. These glorious visions were usually the forerunner of more tough times. So it proved to be.

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Cling to the cross The storm broke over me from every side. My ability to bear was tested to the limit. Deeper blood flowed. The Lord suffered and the storm raged.

I cannot comprehend such love. I can only hang and share. “That is enough” he said. This was an amazing word to hear. My hanging, my

suffering, my bearing was enough. I often wondered where “Touching” would lead. This is where it leads. There isn’t anything else, no other

agenda, no other plan. We bear, we hang, we suffer. That’s it.

The river of healing The Lord would not heal my wounds of the cross? I didn’t know I had any.

But I must have collected them in the journey. What an unbelievable privilege has become mine. Can there be greater honour? I had to use

them straight away. But my great sadness was to see that some, maybe many, believed that they could never be healed. He only longs to heal,

without cost, without blame, without limit. Yet they do not come. Why not?

Reassured

Some parts of “Touching” I find impossible to explain, and this is one of

them. The Spirit just took hold of me, and it all unfolded around and within me. I have come a long way from the beginning. I have wounds, I

have seen the glory and I have seen the depths of darkness. But have I yet reached the consummation of my journey? Something inside me

warned me that I had not yet quite reached the summit of suffering.

Pure gold Was this the consummation I was looking for? It was a staggering

experience of feeling the sorrow of the world. But it was what I wanted. I carried it all to the cross. This was the purest of pure gold – to stand and

bear the suffering of the creation to the Creator, who was hanging to bear. This moment of identification was the purest of pure gold, which

could never be improved on. Tears poured down my face as I wrote the poem. It says everything. And yet...? Something was still missing.

The body The people of God are appearing more and more aren’t they? Suffering at the cross may be personal, but it’s part of the wider ministry to the

family. It’s not for my personal benefit. Carrying the body to the

cross. That’s quite a burden. But it had to be done. The enemy mocked me and the people ridiculed, rejected and crucified me.

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Yet still I bore them to the cross, to his love which never ceased

to flow. For he was the Hope beyond all hope. Together we hung and suffered in silence. There’s nothing I can add. Sometimes silence is

the best way.

The fifth wound Despite all, this vision reveals how much the Lord loves his people, and

how much he longs to help, heal and love. It throws into sharp relief our failure to help, heal and love him back.

Holding on Here it is again – that feeling that I haven’t got there yet. Mary challenges me to go out and find more intercessors. The warning here is

very alarming –the dams of faith are collapsing. Sadly, I think this is a

true assessment.

Blind them The enemy sees the dams collapsing, and takes his chance. Pouring his

life out for a people that did not care. There are depths of love here which I have not yet understood.

The Liar The dams collapse even more, helped by some of God’s leaders, who play with theology and doctrine and undermine the cross. Crucifixion never

ends for those who truly love. What a challenge.

The spring, the great silence and the deeper places I’m running out of words again! What I glimpsed here was what I would be like after receiving my new body and living in the new earth. It was

immensely thrilling, but like others who have walked the same path, description defies words.

The Holy Spirit This part of “Touching” is really beyond description. But to meet with the Hoy Spirit was uplifting. I longed for his power in my life, so that I could

reach the deeper levels of love which I longed to offer to the Lord.

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Angels

The angels are back. This time a different group. I’ll leave you to enjoy

them.

The redemption The heavenly beings - both angelic and those who have fought the fight – are a very powerful and challenging group. They worship, they pray and

they fight. When they line up for battle, they are a formidable foe. The enemy doesn’t like this kind of picture, because it gives courage to God’s

earthly people. It certainly gave me courage to press on.

The eternal plan

Another beautiful and uplifting vision, but now comes the problem. I want

to stay! I want this and to be in this for ever. But the Lord had other plans, and I didn’t like the sound of them. I must show you the depths

of the betrayal of my love.” My heart sank. I thought I was done with all of that, and could live in glory. Apparently not - and I have had this

feeling for some time now. There is something I am not seeing. I think if I

had known how far I still had to travel before I finally understood, I would have given up. Fortunately, the Lord kept it hidden from me.

Commission I suppose that it was inevitable that I would reach this point. A decision has to be made. And the Lord makes it clear - a “Yes” is going to hurt. I

thought I had already got that message. Now I got it again. This time I said “Yes.” All who want to follow me will reach this decision at some

point in “Touching.” If the answer is “No” that’s O.K. But if it is, then time to turn back. For what is to come is for those who can manage to say

“Yes.”

The company of the crucified This is a very interesting passage. I am writing separate material, expanding on this company. Their commitment statement is very sound. I

think it should be the foundation of every intercessory life. Perhaps that’s what the Lord was trying to show me. I made the commitment, and felt

stronger. I didn’t feel quite so alone. I aligned myself with my spiritual colleagues.

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The sighs

This is similar to the “sevens.” I will leave you to enjoy and experience

them for yourselves.

Beginning. The children A very disturbing passage. Sometimes we are very glib about the nations. Few cry for them. The Lord hears their cries as the cries of children. When

I realised this I was hurt. I was even more hurt by watching the iron man break them. What could I do? Only feel the hurt and hang on the cross.

We were warned that “Yes” would hurt. It does.

The slaughterhouse of intercession How much worse can it get? I have never seen the pain and depth of

intercession in this way. It was shocking, and when I was drawn into it, I was cut down by the intensity of the prayer. I realised that what I was

experiencing was “bearing” prayer. It was horrible - almost beyond description. Blood everywhere. The satanic oppression was intense – as

intense as the prayer. I was back to doubting my ability again. As I have said, I am not quite there yet.

Oil of deepest compassion

Where to begin? I can’t explain what was happening, but the end result was amazing. The people rejected me. I was an old, broken and defeated

man. “You have become just like me.” What can I say in response to

this? The only thing to do was to go into the slaughterhouse and bear.

“I am a king” he said and showing me his broken hands

said “These are my authority. and I share them with you.”

There is nothing I can add.

The well of eternal yielding/The cry of the lost This started off well. I suppose the old prayer warriors would say I was raptured into the love of the Lord. I certainly felt that I was dead in the

fullness of his love. I received this blessing because he yielded his love to me. Then he expected me to do the same. I tried, and it was so hard.

This is the key text: - I was standing at the cross again. All the pain

of the people I had seen was in me.

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The anger, the failure, the grief, the sin and the breaking. I

yielded to this awfulness and his love flowed from the cross, into me and began to calm my storm - and theirs.

The vale of tears I did not enjoy the vale of tears. To be told that they were a preparation

for a deeper burden troubled me. As the vision unfolded, I was drawn to

the Lord’s tears, and they were very had to bear. It seemed that however far I came, and however much I sacrificed, it was never enough. But I

also recognised that this was a very great privilege for me. The vision has a very hard end. Was I really back to doubting my humanity. I was, as I

have written, inconsolable.

Who will go? I thought I had already accepted God’s call, but here it comes again - so

typical of “Touching” as we have seen. The dark town brought me to the limit of my endurance. I felt the crushing burden of their denial, and the

pain of the crucifixion at the same time. The command to bear this pain to the cross - how could I? This was worse than anything which had gone

before. Was I really going round in circles or was I approaching the consummation of my journey. As I wrote, night by night, I was reaching

the point where I didn’t care much anymore. I just wanted it to stop.

Resting Anther rapture an another ecstasy! At least that’s what it felt like. The things the Lord spoke to me – I really wondered whether I should write

them down because they were so amazing. But when it was over, I did seem to feel a deeper courage in me. But as always, I wondered why?

These visions are so often the forerunner of more hard training.

The corrupting What a terrible vision. No wonder, when it was over it was followed by the

“Great silence.” When I had seen all this, I was stunned into silence. If

the enemy was this strong and organised, what hope was here for me?

The great silence I don’t think I want to comment on this most painful of passages. The

pain for the Lord, the arrogance, the cost to me – I did need the courage which the Lord had given me. I have written a number of times of dying

in the love of the Lord.

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Here I died in the agony of bearing. I understood the need for this, but

still I had not understood the very heart of what I was called to do. Still something was eluding me.

The Overcomers Still the pain and the struggle continue. It was wonderful to see the “Overcomers” but terrible to be told that overcoming was at the cross, to

which I must return again and again. What could I possibly offer? What could I possibly bring?

Brother nail I was reminded of St Francis, who called death “Brother death.” The Lord faced all the agonies of the crucifixion, and welcomed them into his body.

I wasn’t sure I could do the same, but I understood the principle. We have

to welcome the crucifixion into ourselves if it is going to be an agent of love. A touch challenge.

Bearing

At last, “Touching” outlines clearly the path of the Intercessor. However we experience it, we have to “manifest” the cross. This is a thankless

task, unwelcome by the world and hated by the enemy. As we can’t prove what we are becoming, we are powerless to defend ourselves, so it

becomes a daily crucifixion. But this is our chosen path. It leads us daily to the cross, to bear, to hang and to suffer.

Blood falling like rain/Only one cross. So, finally, after such a wearying journey, I found my fulfilment. The

blood found me. I became the sacrifice.

This must be the ultimate goal of the Intercessor. Not just to see. Not just to feel. Not just to manifest. Not just to hang, but to become the

sacrifice. This is our crown and our ultimate goal. Once there, we just be, and leave the rest to the Lord. We just are the cross and the crucifixion.

We need just to be. Just hanging with him, silent, unafraid, willing. The enemy can rage, but he can do nothing. This position is so deeply costly,

deeply challenging and the greatest honour in the world. For what can be better than to be part of salvation history by looking down from the cross.

So “Touching” comes to its end - or does it. It leaves an indelible

impression on the soul, and refuses to be silenced. It demands a

response, and then another one and then anther one.

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Passion breaks the heart of him

who only wants to love.

Compassion sweeps like waves upon our barren shore

yet we, unable to receive, reject.

He gathers the wreckage of our lives into his heart and in silence

grieves for us that we should hurt so much