22nd – 25th June 2009
This ‘shape’ like a bell and if cut through the middle, lines up Lincoln, St Albans and Brighton. St Albans is strongly highlighted in the heart of this ‘shape’. There something of pure love to be uncovered that is Welsh and English together.
We walk to Lincoln on Alban and Amphibalus’ feast days, 22nd and 25th June, exactly one year on from spending a night on St Wilfred’s ‘mound’ representing Lincoln and the south coast. We were calling for a new way having been so touched and transformed by the work of the Holy Spirit that is currently rising in Wales. I totally honour the Cymri and say without you we are half a person….
Your brokeness our brokeness and Your healing our healing.
I believe that God is marking out a territory that is to shift, where there is a key connected to Lincoln that will affect the entire South East. I believe this ‘shape’ to be just the beginning of a mapping that will step by step reveal pathways to undo the footholds of Roman control. This is connected to the Chesters which will hold out the longest to where they have rooted.
If Brighton is in place where the sound of this ‘bell’ is heard, the ‘ ring-a-ding ding’, it will certainly be a very alternative wake up call that has not been heard before, lined up with pure love….so time to straighten out the kinks causing perversion.
If Lincoln became enraptured with Jesus instead of itself then its influence would be like a beam of pure light flooding the South…so time to lay down the pride that looks to self.
Prayer walking is about being caught up with Jesus and not His footstool! Being loved on by Jesus is the biggest prayer to pour through our feet.
In a dream I was walking to Lincoln and in the sky words appeared above me as God spoke saying..’All must come out of rest now’…like there was no room for compromise on this now. This will be integral to the walk to Lincoln, a controlling place that would drive us and demand human effort of the highest kind to feed it’s love of self. So I believe this is the battle ground and that we will be challenged to come in the utter rest of Jesus. So I am calling this the whack walk…a whalck!!! We are going to get so jacked to do this whalck because I know it will be the only way possible!!
The deepening of metaphors such as the white rose and the shape/sound of a bell on this walk are constructing something like an earthly constellation where the fixed points are only the beginning….
There is such an authority coming to tell the land how it is to be, what is to be restored and offering redemption as true choice.
Walking to Lincoln was strong and with faces like flint we drew on Jesus with every ounce of our being. Breathing in joy, glory and life lest that which we walked into should crush the airy lightness out of us.
We began in St Albans on Alban’s feast day. Enveloped with Jesus’ selfless love lining us inside and out, heaven stayed with us invading our senses and suspending us in a beautiful presence. That morning believers in St Alban’s specifically went to the heart of their town to pray for release from free masonry. As we set off north of Romford we consciously carried what they had staked in the ground there.
There was small relief from the old roman road as the only way forward but we took every advantage to gain respite from a country lane. The road was tired, lifeless and draining, encouragements such as ‘instruments of destruction’, ‘roads cracking and cobbles flying’, ‘pushing over walls that had already been shaken’ were welcome.
Peterborough was an major encounter with nine miles from start to finish we took each mile for each year since 2000. We rehearsed the pain, death, hope, birth and the new in our lives from 2001-2009. We pulled Peterborough with us into the ninth mile finishing at St Pega’s Road, 2009 and a new wine skin in an ancient track where Jesus just rested on us. Peterborough was a place to be seized and wrestled to the ground, a man of war to be subdued to lay down and not usurp, nor to borrow or obscure the light that is Lincoln’s as a high place of influence. Instead it is a soft landing where many people’s are welcome and it’s strength lies in it’s breadth, not its height. If places, like people, would stop trying to be what they are not they will find such peace and flourish.
With this city behind the first half of the walk felt complete. The second half was like a new walk. Lincoln was now in view and fresh team members joined us from Chester adding to those from Leeds, St Albans, Chichester and Worcester. Four significant roman ‘chester’ cities, places where control has it’s footholds and will hold out longest against being up rooted. Lincoln is a major ‘chester’.
The road felt so devoid of life….Lincoln seemed to charm us with a sleepy sympathetic ‘curl up and forget all about it’ which seductively stroked our weariness. The scot amongst us was untouched and trojan-like she stomped amongst us wee flopsy bunnies disturbing our reverie.
‘And now… ALL must come out of Rest’ had loudly been decreed by God as an audible instruction over this walk. The mocking ‘rest’ dulling our senses was to be shaken off into actively drinking ‘It is finished’ wine, receiving the strength of a complete work and walking ‘Loved’.
In this ‘second’ stage of the walk if we drank we flew, if we forgot we quickly remembered. Roman market towns steeped in free masonry and tight control became the wells from which we drank. Sudden gusts of wind would rise and so would we as if our feet had wings. Angels would unfurl, spinning and rising in the marketplace as we past.
We arrived in Lincoln on St Amphibalus’ feast day, the Welsh priest Alban died protecting. We were to head for the centre, no beach, no margin, no hiddeness but to the arches between the cathedral and the castle itself. Little people in the land of giants with a decree and a message for the ear of Lincoln.
This is a day of decision for Lincoln, a high place of influence that has been used, thwarted, twisted and deformed. God will restore to Lincoln its true calling and fulfillment of all it should be if it will turn from love of self to selfless love. This gift of governance is servant leadership, the place from where a ‘bishops’ hand will rise to bless England to lower itself in order to raise up that which it has repressed.
No label or recognition will come with this and where such things should have been Lincoln’s which is part of its pain, this is a day of operating without that need. The comfort of the Lord to Lincoln is that it will be returned to its true state and influence in servant leadership which will bring peace and fulfillment. This is jubilee, this is redemption and a chance to start again.
Two types of white rose were laid at Lincoln’s feet, one infested with aphids and the other beautifully pure and new. ‘Choose this day whom you will serve’ says the Lord.
Lincoln’s influence shines out like a light southwards over London and covers it east to west. Then the light hits the southern circular edge of London and like a lens causes the light to display over the entire South East. On the map it looks like the shape of a bell, lining up Lincoln, St Albans, London and Brighton through the centre. This entire area is to shift.
Lincoln is the at the apex of this bell and Brighton produces the sound.
Having walked this week with Paul Wood and Adam Clarke through east and north London, the need for Lincoln to be in place and issuing God’s boundaries, instruction and discipline is paramount.
What is arriving on the back of the Olympics representing ancient empire and control must not find the map as it expected. The likely places for it’s talons to sink into our nation must become a confusion, a grid that has so shifted beneath the surface that the old game of empire is confounded and a misfit to the DNA of this nation.
We scuttle around being faithful and obedient… we do not have to become a giant to bring giants down, we simply find the shoe laces, tie them together and let them bring themselves down.
God is breaking control in this nation whatever it puts on from it’s dressing up box, be it masonic, roman, christian, islamic or occultic garb. God is taking us to the root and the apostasy of impersonating the Creator and littering creation with so many counterfeit female deities to defile that which came from the heart and womb of God.
There are myriads of connections that have come on this walk that are too many to share here suffice to say that those who walked with me are God given and vital connections. Val a dear friend and load bearer when I drop off. Sue with enormous heart and insight. Angela a provoking sign that so enabled me, Sarah’s worship & rebel yell, Gracie mystic in2meC, Aidan mydearheart, Linda wise, Jane the Kiss, fun Ruthie, Phil’s persistance, Mike’s enthuse and David’s joy.
Huge thanks to Sue and Paul Butler for hosting us just near Cambridge, great to have some time together with you.
Linda Yoxon, you have been the main life line to Lincoln for us and having us all in your house was such a fulfillment from a year ago sleeping rough on some weird dodgy mound near my house. I am so glad you did not do me the same favour!! Love to you and Mike. My thanks to Gill for help with the masonic stuff.
To everyone who prayed and covered our backs, all who cheer us on and believe in us, to husbands who release their women to the wild wonder!
For all that is rising in Wales and way beyond.