Inside the box

In my life I have always felt that I was different. I felt as if things were never the same for me as they were for others. As a child I tried to blend in and as a teenager even more so. I never had the courage to stand out because I was afraid. Afraid that people would get angry at me. Especially as a teenager I was often excluded, laughed at and at times intimidated. Not just by my peers by also by adults. Trust me when I say, there are certain things that you will never forget.

So out of fear of being excluded, laughed at or hated, I would simply try to blend in. Even when this was not in line with what God would ask from me. God asked me to be a writer – a poet –  but for a long time, I would refuse. Even today I still have moments where I want to give up. These moments are often when people talk behind my back in a negative way and I hear all about it, or when people question me face-to-face. People can be quite convincing. And often I understand their point of view. But then there is God asking something different from me and I get confused about what to do. I remember this one time, when I told my mom: “Life is a battle where it is me and God against the world”. Luckily my mother often listened to me and she would support me in every way that she could. I could really tell her everything because I knew she loved me and I trusted her.

Yet many people are not like my mom. Many people talk behind my back and it is not positive. The prejudices and opinions they have about me are based upon their own insecurity. But still it hurts. Life for me is like living between two fires. The fire of God and the fire of evil. And it is a tough battle.

Still the fire of God is greater. My passion to do God’s will still exceeds everything else. For as long as I can remember I had only one ambition in life; to bring a smile to my Fathers face. And with my Father, I mean God the Father. If I could just put a smile on His face, I would have done the best job that I could possible do. In one of my dreams God said: “the only way that leads to eternity is the small way”. So even if it is difficult to do what God asks you to do, don’t give up. With God everything is possible and God will never leave what He once started. It is better to have faith in God than in people!

Today I wrote a poem about this. It is a poem about my story. I have a huge passion for God the Father, for Jesus and for the Holy Spirit. My love for God makes my heart burst, but so many have tried to stop me through the years. I may be a woman, I may have never been to a prominent bible school or theological study, I may not life up to people’s expectations but I know – with a 100% certainty – that God is greater than my circumstances. God loves me and He will make a way where there is no way. And if you are in the same situation as me? If you feel the same way? Than please know that God is almighty! He loves you! He can and will do amazing things in your life, that may seem impossible. Do not give up! Never! Think outside the box!

Inside the box

Inside the box,
the noose around my neck tightens.
Trying to settle in,
the small nook is too cramped,
and all I want to do,
is to leave this small space.

All eyes tell a different story,
but when they look at me,
all their stories are the same.
Stuck in prejudices and opinions,
war is either neglect,
or fight back.
Who will love me as I am?

Traditions are for keeping,
but not if they suffocate the soul.
When everything is the same,
we are in desperate need of change.
Evolving is teaching yourself to be better,
learning is allowing yourself to grow,
for growth is a never-ending story.

Inside the box,
where I am unable to grow,
I look out into infinity,
where God asks me to live,
in His divine library,
where His great wisdom,
will lead me to eternity.

Between my fingertips

I honestly do not know why I haven’t told this story yet. Is it the fear that nobody will believe me? Maybe the idea that my story doesn’t matter? Or maybe I really just forgot? I don’t know but a sweet friend from Australia inspired me to write the story.

The story is about something that happened to me about three years ago. It was a night like any other. Nothing in particular happened that day, that could have inspired this. It was a dream that I will never forget. It was the dream where I met Jesus, face to face.

In my dream I didn’t see anything other than Jesus. There were no views or surroundings, it was me and Him. He was standing at a distance looking at me and I wondered by myself, “Why are you always standing at a distance from me?
Suddenly He was gone and for a second, I slightly panicked. But then I felt His presence behind me and He came from behind and stepped next to me. I was sitting down and He was standing. All I could do was to stare at Him. My eyes looked into His and didn’t look anywhere else. My heart almost exploded with love for Him. In His eyes I saw both love and peace, but also worry. A worry I didn’t understand then but I do now. With His hand He softly stroke my head and He let His hand rest on my head. Such love! 

I always have these awkward moments where I do something that I don’t quite understand. Here another classic! As we were staring into each others eyes, I couldn’t say a word. So what did I do? I thought about how uncomfortable His robe looked and wondered if it felt as uncomfortable as it looked! So I reached and held His robe between my fingertips and rubbed the fabric gently. It was surprisingly soft though. Then I looked back into His eyes. Out of all the things I could have done, I never expected myself to do that, but He didn’t Judge me. Not once. He still had the same loving, peaceful, worried but gentle look in His eyes. And His hand was still resting on my head. Then He walked away and I so badly wanted to say something, call after Him, but I couldn’t think of anything. I went silent and woke up.

Meeting Jesus, feeling His touch, His love and being so close to Him was an experience I will never forget and never get used to. Even though  it didn’t go exactly according to plan, my plan that is, it did bring me a lot of peace. I always believed in Jesus but somehow it felt as if I needed this. As if I needed it so see Him and touch Him. Just to feel Him close to me. Ever since that day, or should I say night, I am longing to see Him again. Longing for a moment where I can speak. Where my mouth will for words. I am still longing to feel His love as vivid as I did then. Meeting Jesus makes that you just cannot let go anymore. That is the power He has over people. Once you see Him, you can’t let go!  (For all who are wondering what Jesus looked like. He looked exactly like the paintings ‘Prince of Peace’ and ‘Jesus’ by Akiane Kramarik.)

About this experience I wrote a poem called ‘Between my fingertips’ that I would love to share with you now. Enjoy!

Between my fingertips

 I still feel the soft fabric,
gently between my fingertips.
Your eyes are imprinted in my soul,
how can I ever forget Your gentleness?
Not a word has to be spoken,
our minds are one.
And as the Spirit draws us closer together,
our bond is still the same,
Between You and me,
nothing has changed.

 Your brother love exceeds,
it is a heart without boundaries.
Never will Your anger rain down on me,
or felt in any chamber of Your heart.
Your teachings are my guidelines,
wisdom is planted in my mind,
where it grows out of love for You.
I walk the roads of this world alone,
but in heaven I look out for You.
More are You to me than a Savior,
more than all the Kings of the earth,
more than all my brothers combined.

 I still feel the soft fabric,
gently between my fingertips.
Your brotherly worries unspoken,
Your love speaks louder than any word could.
Not a soul knows our connection,
or the bloodline that keeps us attached.
The memories hold my heart,
when the distance becomes an obstacle.
All I need to know,
when my soul returns home,
that the fabric of Your robe,
is still between my fingertips.

 

My Father’s Garden

The poem ‘My Father’s garden’ is based on a vision I had. I was 29 years old and one night, as I was laying in bed, I got a vision from God. In this vision I saw myself in a secluded place. The grass was greener than I have ever seen. Trees with green leaves were in a quarter of a circle and green bushes were standing in front of the trees. It was a sea of green.

In the centre was a long white (French garden set like) table. It was huge and could easily seat 12 people but there were only 3 chairs. One at the head, two on either side. I was sitting on one of the seats but not the one at the head! I was dressed in a white robe, one like Jesus always wears in pictures. My hair was dark brown and my eyes had this amber-brown color. My face was so white, as if I had a lightbulb in my head that was turned on. My face was literally glowing (read; giving light). I was so shocked by my beauty. And not just my beauty. I looked so happy. Happier than I have ever been on earth. I was filled with joy. The person I saw didn’t look half as much as I am today. I was so shocked by this perfection that I pushed the vision away.

Now I am truly sad that I stopped the vision. I would love to see it once more and take a closer look at myself. I saw myself through God’s eyes. God showed me what He sees. Around the same time God gave me the name; Batyah, which means ‘Daughter of God’. (I have talked about this story in a previous blog) When I woke up the next morning I wrote a poem about my experience. To me this poem is a treasure. A memory of something beautiful. It was God’s way of saying: “I love you and to Me, you are absolutely perfect. To Me you are my beloved little girl”.

My Father’s garden

Watching through a camera,
the lens provides a new picture.
A new world…an unknown place.
Where green trees make a secluded garden,
green bushes bring rest to the soul.
She dwells in green pastures.
Her home is peace,
She’s dressed in truth.

A white table provides three chairs,
One for her…she is already seated,
One for the Son….He will come,
One for the Father….He is already there.
Never leaving her side,
His angels keep her laughing,
For joy is the essence of the garden.

The lens provides a perfect world,
where all the cultures are united.
Peace is the law,
joy is life,
and love your greatest company.

Dressed in white, Her body is alight.
Her dark brown hair points out Her amber eyes.
I want to touch Her face….my face.
I want to braid Her hair…my hair.
I want to look like Her…but I’m looking at myself.

The lens shows a different view,
I am looking through the eyes of my Father,
A promise…a place…a Daughter.
My Father’s garden…my home.

Truth is freedom

Usually I am not exactly a morning bird. In the morning I need some time to wake up and get started. But one morning, when I was alone, I woke up early. That morning I sat down with a writing pad. I felt so inspired but at the same time I didn’t know what to write. As soon as I put my pen on the paper, the words came out so fluently that I had to put in a lot of effort to keep up. I cannot write every day at the same time and often, any time before dawn is not a particularly favorite writing time for me. When I write, I wait for God’s voice to guide me through the words. Sometimes He quotes them, sometimes I get dreams, visions or I see quick pictures in front of my eyes, and at other times I find the words in my own heart. And when I read my poetry back later on, I can always find God back in the words, pages and poems. My poetry is not just an outlet. It is my breath, my beating heart. It is my life line in times of sorrow. It is my joy and my happiness. I was meant to write! I was meant to write poetry!

Truth is Freedom

Questions ask Questions,
through the answers multiplied.
Answers calm the soul,
but only for a little while.
The answers we want to hear,
lead us walking in circles,
endlessly.

Where the truth shines his light,
human eyes are blinded by its brightness,
but if we dare to open our heart,
the truth will set us free.

Truth answers questions.
Peace calms the soul.
The two are undeniably connected,
for truth and peace give acceptance,
and broken circles give a narrow road,
until we learn how to walk in truth.

Questions ask questions.
Answers question itself.
But the truth is a rock,
steadfast and unshakable,
where we can lean on in times of trial.
The truth is the Light that sets our mind free.
Eternal freedom that sets us in the Light.

Truth is freedom for the soul!

The only sense of true reality

The only sense of true reality

In the deafening silence,
when all time stands still,
the world stops turning,
around its own axis,
and the image freezes in the snow.

Breaking through dimensions,
Your voice pierces through time,
like a bolt of light,
breaking through the earth.
But only I can hear You.

Gentleness is a strength,
in a size unable to measure.
How can a mountain fit in a box?
How can a house fit in a purse?
The inability to hold reality,
confuses the mind,
until it meets the inability,
to understand.

But when I hear Your voice,
Your vision is the only reality,
that I truly understand.
Your gentleness is the only coat,
that seems to fit.

Nobody wants to hear me.
Nobody seems to understand,
the truth of this reality.
They hold on to the bricks,
in a fear to fall down the cliff.
I wish they could see,
that the ground is only one feet,
underneath their own reality.

Love is guidance,
where you learn to let go.
Kicking the dust of my feet,
my focus shifts back to You,
the only sense of true reality.

Jerusalem

A couple of years ago I sat down with Revelations 21 and turned it into a poem. The reason I did this is my love for God the Father, Jesus and Heaven. With all the visions that God showed me in my mind, the words of Revelation 21 are simply amazing. There is such hope and beauty in these words. One day God will establish a new Jerusalem where there will always be peace and love. Isn’t that something to look forward to?
That day we will all be living with Jesus and God the Father in this gorgeous paradise. Personally I can’t wait! This perspective inspired these words. And I hope that it will inspire you too.

Jerusalem

 Jerusalem, Jerusalem,
Dear city made of gold.
Your doors of pearl,
they shine so bright,
it’s more than can behold.

Jerusalem, Jerusalem,
descending from above,
dressed like a bride,
your mighty glow,
is bringing me God’s love.

Jerusalem, Jerusalem,
with gemstones you are dressed,
you give us peace,
We praise the Lord,
For He has made you blessed.

Jerusalem, Jerusalem,
No longer can we wait,
Let’s change our hearts,
and praise the Lord,
before it is too late.

Tears of Hope

Tears of hope is a poem about the deep suffering of Jesus. I wrote it a couple of years ago and it is based on two visions, I received. Because Easter is slowly approaching I want to share this poem and the stories with you.

The first vision, which was the direct reason for me to write this poem, showed me Jesus praying in Gethsemane. In my vision I walked through Gethsemane. It was night. Dark green and midnight blue colored the scene. I walked past the trees to Jesus. He was on His knees, praying. When I reached Him, I touched His head and He looked up. The fear in His eyes cut deep into my heart. Never have I seen anyone with such deep fear in His eyes. In my vision He grabbed my clothes and held on to me for dear life. The state He was in made me cry. As if someone stabbed a knife in my heart. And every year when Easter arrives, I am reminded of that vision. To this day I can still see the vision vaguely in front of my eyes. And still it makes me cry. As I saw Him like that, all I wanted was to help Him. To make Him happy again. To make Him feel better. But I could do nothing and that brought a hopelessness to my soul. He was doing the right thing but it was also the hardest thing He ever did. The vision gave me a deja-vu-feeling – and from this deja vu point of view – I wrote this poem. The words were nestled deep in my soul, where I easily found them. And I remember that I wrote this poem especially for Jesus. As a way to honor Him and show Him my deep love. The words to this poem can still bring me to tears but I know that I needed to write this. I needed to write this for Jesus, for myself and for the world. To explain to the world the deep suffering of Jesus. He suffered to give life to mankind. Eternal life. In the end His sacrifice became His greatest victory and the greatest hope the world can ever find!

The second vision I received much later but is deeply entwined to this poem. This vision was a snapshot. A photograph so to say. I saw Jesus with the thorn crown on His head. Bruised by the beatings, His face was swollen. There was blood everywhere on His face. I saw Jesus the exact way He looked when He was hanging on the cross. It literally took my breath away and not in the best sense of the word. I cannot say it frightened me but it did shock me. Once again I was confronted with the deep suffering of Jesus. Not because I am such a bad believer or for a lack of repentance. No. I received these visions because I can write about them and share them with the world. Because I can handle them without getting nightmares afterwards. And my love for Jesus, God the Father and the Holy Spirit, my deep intense love for them, makes me share this poem and these stories with you today.

For the longest time I remained silent about what God showed me and told me. I kept silent because I thought it was a secret between me and God. What a fool I was! Now I understand that when God gives me something, it is my job to share it with the world, with all of you reading this blog. Hoping that the love, hope and joy Jesus brings, will burn brightly in your heart also. Here is the poem. May it bring you hope!

Tears of Hope

 The green of hope,
covered in the night,
shapes His love,
into a lam.
Allowing His blood,
to touch the earth,
but the mere drops,
do not compare,
His chosen sacrifice.

My broken heart,
catches the tears,
of His innocence.
But my hands are tight.
So in a cloak,
made of grief,
I give Him my love,
the strength He needs,
the support He longs for.

His tears I bring,
to a special place,
build in eternity.
There I plant it,
like a mustard seed,
to turn the sacrifice,
into a brand new tree.

A tree of life,
that brings,
new hope.

Daughter of God

This blog is another piece of my story. It started in January, when I was 29 years old. That one particular afternoon I was contemplating life. After my whole story had played like a film through my mind, I said to God, “Why did all of this happen to me? Why did you give me this life?” I didn’t close my eyes or fold my hands, I didn’t sit in a specific praying position, none of that. All I did was look up, with my eyes wide open and from speak from the deepest bottom of my heart. Not expecting an answer, I was very surprised when I did receive one. I heard an audible voice, the same one I heard in the past, who said, “God’s daughter, daughter of God”. That’s it.

All over the new testament, it is written that through Jesus Christ, through His sacrifice, we are called Children of God. Since I am a christian, I believe all that. However, I felt as if God was taking one more step. As if He wanted to say, “Yes, you are my child through Jesus, but you are also really my child”. Myself, I did not want to go that far. I could believe that I was a sinner saved by grace, but not that I was God’s own child. So I dismissed God’s words to me. All I was willing to accept out of His words was, that my life went the way it did because I was a follower of Jesus, a child of God through the cross. Nothing more, nothing less.

In April however I got a vision. One that completely overwhelmed me. I saw a green place. Green grass, green trees with green bushes in front of it. It was a secluded place with a long white (French garden style) table, with at the head tree chairs. I saw myself sitting on one side, on a chair. I looked different. My face seemed to glow, as if it was giving light, my eyes were brown, instead of blue/grey. My hair was dark brown, instead of grey/blond, and I had a fringe (which I haven’t had since I was a child!) and curlier hair than my straight hair now. My lips seemed a little thinner. My body frame was more petite. I cannot explain it really. It looked like me but at the same time I looked completely different. However I did recognize myself. I thought, I looked stunning. I was smiling and looked so happy. In fact, I looked so perfect that I didn’t know what to do with it. I felt to much of a sinner to be that girl. I guess in a way, I felt ashamed of myself. So I shook my head and pushed the vision, that God gave me, away. God showed me the way that He sees me, but somehow I wasn’t ready to accept that.

Throughout the following months I would get more visions and poems from God. Visions that felt like memories that were stored in my mind long before I was born. I had a vision about God creating the planets. I saw exactly what materials He used to create them. I saw a waterfall that is located somewhere in Heaven. The waterfall streams down from a giant rock into a small lake. I saw the city (The New Jerusalem) that has a small stream on either side with willows beside the streams. I saw a particular animal that doesn’t exist here on earth, a dear but than it was full-grown as big as a baby-deer. I saw a secluded garden with stone walls around it, which felt like a centre of peace, with rose trees. You know those little rose bushes but these rose trees were as tall as a apple tree. And it had a small fountain at the centre, with a bench (old roman style), where you could sit down and enjoy the serenity of the moment. and I saw many more. I never talked about it with anyone, not even my parents. Some I wrote down in poetry, some I didn’t write down at all and some were stored in my heart where it felt safe.

In November I was on the internet searching for names and their meaning. For some reason I have always been curious about that. For example, the name Gineke means Queen. Haha, who new! My parents certainly did not when they chose my name!
This time I was searching Hebrew names. I had found a list and started with the letter A. When I came to the names beginning with the letter B, the name Batyah jumped out right away. The meaning of the name Batyah is, God’s daughter, daughter of God. At that moment it didn’t hit me, but a few months later, in January, it did. It was exactly a year (12 months) ago when God had spoken to me. That day I suddenly put all the pieces together. Batyah was exactly what God had told me a year before. Batyah is me.

Think of it whatever you want. For me, it took me another 7 months before I was willing to accept that name. And even though God gave me a new name that year, I stick with my old one. Batyah is a name for Heaven, that’s what it feels like to me. On earth I am Gineke, and I am more than okay with that. I think what is more important, is that God loves me and sees me as His child. And all in the end, through the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ we are just that. If God wants to call me Batyah then I am okay with that. If God wants to call me Gineke, that’s okay too. As long as He loves me, I am pretty much fine with whatever He chooses. Because His love is the fuel to my existence. It is what keeps me going when life gets tough. His love is more important to me. To me, it is everything!

The reason why I am sharing this story, is because God has the same message for you. Whatever way you see yourself, in God’s eyes you are perfect. You are God’s child and you are so loved. The love God has for you, trust me, you cannot even begin to fathom it. It is overwhelming!  When you look in the mirror today, please tell yourself that you are beautiful, loved and God’s child! Because that is the truth!

Painting a dreamscape

Painting a dreamscape

Inside a teardrop,
arms reach up to Heaven,
and nature trembles in pain,
until grieve breaks into silence –
turbid are the waters that cannot see.

Life is a universe,
where stars and galaxies pass us by,
and leave a trademark on our existence.
In an endless infinity I float on ice,
until the deepest water swallows me up.
Searching for the stars I strike my thunder.
Searching for the galaxy I make the rain.

How can life exist without creation?
How can creation exist without life?

I paint a night sky on a blank canvas,
so it won’t disappear from my sight.
Uncatchable is a dreamscape,
unpaintable are the stars in the night.
When the camera wants to frame the picture,
the vision decides to stay inside my mind.

Only when the quill softly touches the ink,
Divine secrets are told on parchment paper.

Between my fingertips

The poem I would like to share with you today is one very close to my heart. This poem is about the night I met Jesus in a dream. You know, I often work with God the Father, so those rare moments when Jesus communicates with me, are very special to me. I don’t know why I communicate more with the Father and the Holy Spirit but I am confident in the bond Jesus and I have, so I don’t really mind. But it fills my heart with pure joy when Jesus comes to me to have a chat or to show me something!

This night was one of those rare night I saw Him. In my dream I saw Jesus standing at a distance from me. It was just the two of us, there was nobody else there. So I thought by myself, why are you always at such a distance? (Yes there was a short period of time where it actually bugged me, but this dream changed all that!) Suddenly Jesus was gone and I panicked just a little. I panicked because it wasn’t my intention to push Him away, all I wanted was for Him to come closer! Then I felt a presence behind me and there He was. He came from behind me and walked to my side. Now He was actually standing right next to me. Our eyes locked. He stroke my head with His hand and the love I felt in that moment overwhelmed me. His love also ensured me that even though He is not always this close to my side, His love never changes! He will always love me and I will always have a place in His heart. It really felt as if He takes a polite distance to give the Father space to work with me. Nothing more, nothing less. And I really needed to know that. I needed to know that even though I do not always feel His presence, He still loves me anyway.

As I was looking into His eyes and He into mine, I desperately wanted to say something. But I could not find the words and neither did He. What happened next still kind of surprises me sometimes. For some weird reason I looked at His robe and thought, that must be so uncomfortable. For His robe looked like itchy wool. Then I reached out my hand and touched His robe. I took His robe between my fingertips and rubbed it very gently. I can tell you that I was very surprised by the softness of it. It felt very comfortable actually.

When I looked up again, into His eyes, I read a touch of worry in His eyes. He was worried about me and His worry reminded me of the worry my brothers sometimes have when they look at me. Looking back I understand His worry but at that particular moment it confused me. When I was fourteen years old and God the Father spoke to me in a dream, the Father told me that my coming future would be a difficult one. I believe that Jesus was very well aware, that I wasn’t out of the woods yet. I think it worried Him that I still had battles to fight. Why? Because He loves and cares about me. I matter to Him. And it is exactly that love of Jesus that fills me with joy, love and peace.

When I woke up, I wrote a poem about this dream. The reason I want to share the poem and the dream with you is, because Jesus loves you too! So much more than you are aware of. I see it as my duty to direct people towards the love of Jesus. To make them aware of the overwhelming love Jesus has in His heart for mankind. Words cannot explain His love for you and still I try to bring it to people through my poetry. Always remember that Jesus loves you. Open your heart and let Him in because He is more than worth it. I hope you like the poem. I hope it fills your heart with love, joy and peace in Jesus name.

Between my fingertips

I still feel the soft fabric,
gently between my fingertips.
Your eyes are imprinted in my soul,
how can I ever forget Your gentleness?
Not a word has to be spoken,
our minds are one.
And as the Spirit draws us closer together,
our bond is still the same,
Between You and me,
nothing has changed.

Your brother love exceeds,
it is a heart without boundaries.
Never will Your anger rain down on me,
or felt in any chamber of Your heart.
Your teachings are my guidelines,
wisdom is planted in my mind,
where it grows out of love for You.
I walk the roads of this world alone,
but in heaven I look out for You.
More are You to me than a Savior,
more than all the Kings of the earth,
more than all my brothers combined.

I still feel the soft fabric,
gently between my fingertips.
Your brotherly worries unspoken,
Your love speaks louder than any word could.
Not a soul knows our connection,
or the bloodline that keeps us attached.
The memories hold my heart,
when the distance becomes an obstacle.
All I need to know,
when my soul returns home,
that the fabric of Your robe,
is still between my fingertips.