When the Veil Moves

Imagine there is a veil in front of you.

Do not rush past the image. See it.

A veil immediately tells you something before it ever moves: there is something on the other side. Otherwise, why would there be a veil?

Perhaps it is translucent enough that you can perceive shape but not detail. Perhaps it is heavy and opaque, separating what you know from what you cannot yet see. Perhaps it moves slightly at the bottom, caught by a breeze you cannot feel anywhere else. Or maybe, suddenly, it is as though an invisible hand reaches toward it and draws a finger from one side to the other, sending movement through the fabric until light begins slipping through places that were covered only moments before.

Nothing on the other side had to be created when the veil moved.

It was already there.

The movement changed what could be seen.

And this was the question Holy Spirit dropped into me:

When the veil moves, what do you see?

But almost immediately another question came behind it.

Do you even notice that it moved?

Because revelation does not always arrive like thunder. Sometimes it is the smallest disturbance in the fabric of what you thought you knew.

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The Wind in the Night

One of my favorite passages in all of Scripture—and I have enough favorites that there is definitely a 1A, 1B, and 1C before we ever arrive at number two—is found in my favorite book of the Bible: John.

I have always thought of John as a love letter from God to us. There is something about the way John writes that continually pulls back the visible world and lets us glimpse the eternal reality underneath it. He begins before Bethlehem, before Mary, before Abraham, before creation itself: “In the beginning was the Word” (John 1:1 AMP). John seems perpetually aware that what we can see is not all there is.

And in John 3, Nicodemus comes to Yeshua at night (John 3:1–2).

That detail matters.

Throughout John’s Gospel, light and darkness carry enormous theological weight. John has already told us that the Light shines in the darkness and the darkness did not overpower it (John 1:5). Later, Yeshua declares, “I am the Light of the world” (John 8:12 AMP). Nicodemus physically enters a nighttime conversation, but he is also standing at the threshold of understanding something his existing categories cannot yet contain.

He knows religion.

He knows Torah.

He knows theology.

And then Yeshua begins moving the veil.

He tells this learned man that he must be born again—born from above—and Nicodemus immediately tries to force the mystery into a physical category. How can a grown man enter his mother’s womb again? (John 3:3–4)

And Yeshua answers with wind.

“The wind blows where it wishes and you hear its sound, but you do not know where it is coming from and where it is going; so it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit.” (John 3:8 AMP)

The Greek itself carries the mystery. Pneuma can mean spirit, wind, or breath. Yeshua is speaking in language that allows the natural world to become a doorway into the spiritual one.

You cannot grab wind.

You cannot put it on the table and dissect it.

But you can watch a tree bow beneath something you cannot see.

You can watch curtains lift.

You can feel air move across your skin.

You know the invisible has moved because the visible begins responding to it.

And suddenly I am back at the veil.

When Holy Spirit moves, what moves with Him?

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The Veil Is Not the Reality

This is where something begins burning.

We can become so accustomed to the veil that we accidentally treat the veil as reality.

We see through limitation, memory, disappointment, expectation, fear, familiarity, experience, assumptions, wounds, timelines—and after enough time we stop saying, This is what I can presently see.

We begin saying:

This is what is.

Those are not the same sentence.

Paul writes:

“For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face; now I know in part, but then I will know fully…” (1 Corinthians 13:12 AMP)

In part.

There is humility and invitation in those two words.

I can genuinely see something and still not see everything.

I can genuinely know something and still have more to know.

I can possess truth without possessing the entirety of what God intends to reveal through it.

So what happens when Holy Spirit touches the edge of our perception and says:

There is more.

Will we let Him move the veil?

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How Much Do You Want to See?

This is where the question becomes personal.

How much do you want to see?

Not merely how much information do you want.

How much of your existing interpretation are you willing to surrender in order to see differently?

Because revelation can be exhilarating until it challenges the architecture we built before it arrived.

We pray, “Lord, show me.”

And sometimes His answer is:

Then release your insistence that what you already see is all there is.

There is a reason Paul prays that the eyes of our hearts would be enlightened (Ephesians 1:18). There is a reason Yeshua repeatedly says, “He who has ears to hear, let him hear” (Matthew 11:15; Mark 4:9; Luke 8:8). There is a reason Scripture says:

“Things which the eye has not seen and the ear has not heard, and which have not entered the heart of man, all that God has prepared for those who love Him.” (1 Corinthians 2:9 AMP)

And then Paul immediately says something we sometimes stop too soon to read:

“For God has unveiled them and revealed them to us through the [Holy] Spirit.” (1 Corinthians 2:10 AMP)

Unveiled.

There it is.

What eye could not discover independently, Spirit can reveal.

What ear could not hear naturally, Spirit can make known.

The veil moves.

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What If God Surprises You?

I wonder sometimes whether one of the greatest limits we place upon God is not unbelief in His existence but familiarity with how we think He should move.

We leave Him room to be God—as long as He stays somewhere inside the dimensions we have drawn for Him.

Then Paul comes along and says He “is able to [carry out His purpose and] do superabundantly more than all that we dare ask or think [infinitely beyond our greatest prayers, hopes, or dreams]” (Ephesians 3:20 AMP).

Beyond what you ask.

Beyond what you think.

Beyond what you have imagined.

Which means if God only moved within the boundaries of what I could predict, Ephesians 3:20 would collapse.

There must be room in my relationship with God for surprise.

Holy surprise.

The kind that makes you look backward and realize the answer was moving before you recognized it.

The kind that makes you laugh because God connected things you never would have thought to connect.

The kind that makes you whisper, Only You could have done this.

What if we stopped giving God instructions disguised as prayers?

What if we told Him what our heart desires and then left enough holy space around the request for Him to remain God?

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Leave the Blank Open

We are remarkably uncomfortable with blank spaces.

Give the human mind:

This is what I know → ______ → this is what God promised

and watch what happens.

We start filling in the blank.

How?

When?

Through whom?

What happens next?

What if this happens?

What if that doesn’t happen?

What did that mean?

What am I missing?

Before long, we have turned uncertainty into the world’s most stressful Mad Lib.

We exhaust ourselves trying to write the middle of a sentence God never asked us to finish.

What if we left the blank open?

Not empty of faith.

Full of expectancy.

This is what I know.

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And on the other side, I am going to actively refuse—with holy velocity—to fill that space with catastrophe merely because I do not yet possess information.

I know the character of the One writing the story.

David gives us corroborating evidence:

“I have been young and now I am old, yet I have not seen the righteous abandoned or his descendants pleading for bread.” (Psalm 37:25 AMP)

And again:

“Surely goodness and mercy and unfailing love shall follow me all the days of my life, and I shall dwell forever [throughout all my days] in the house and in the presence of the LORD.” (Psalm 23:6 AMP)

I may not know what belongs inside every blank.

But I know Who is holding the pen.

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It Is Your Father’s Good Pleasure

Yeshua says something so tender that I think we sometimes read it too quickly:

“Do not be afraid and anxious, little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom.” (Luke 12:32 AMP)

Read it again.

Good pleasure.

The Father is not reluctantly prying blessing from a clenched divine fist.

Yeshua is revealing His heart.

And the same Yeshua tells us to look at the birds. They do not sow or reap or gather into barns, “and yet your heavenly Father keeps feeding them. Are you not worth much more than they?” (Matthew 6:26 AMP)

More than birds.

More than lilies (Matthew 6:28–30).

Not because creation is insignificant, but because Yeshua is trying to restore our perception of the Father’s attention toward us.

God says through Jeremiah:

“Yes, I have loved you with an everlasting love; therefore with lovingkindness I have drawn you and continued My faithfulness to you.” (Jeremiah 31:3 AMP)

And through Isaiah:

“Do not fear, for I have redeemed you [from captivity]; I have called you by name; you are Mine!” (Isaiah 43:1 AMP)

Then:

“Since you are precious in My sight, you are honored and I love you, I will give other men in return for you and other peoples in exchange for your life.” (Isaiah 43:4 AMP)

Perhaps the veil that needs to move is sometimes not over our understanding of circumstances.

Perhaps it is over our understanding of how deeply loved we actually are.

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Before You Put It on the Line, You Have to Open Your Hand

We talk about putting everything on the line.

Put your dream on the line.

Put your reputation on the line.

Put your heart on the line.

Put your yes on the line.

And there is something courageous in that language.

But I suddenly saw something underneath it.

Before you can put anything on the line, your hand has to open.

You cannot place something down while your fist remains clenched around it.

The visible surrender is preceded by an invisible opening.

Before the hand releases, something in the mind, heart, will, and spirit has already wrestled its way toward:

Yes.

That is surrender.

Not passivity.

Not resignation.

Not ceasing to desire.

Opening.

The clenched hand says, I must control what happens to this.

The open hand says, Father, this matters enormously to me, and I trust You enough to place it where You can do with it what I cannot.

And strangely, the same open hand capable of releasing is also the hand capable of receiving.

A fist can do neither.

Maybe surrender and receiving have been closer together than we realized.

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Imagine Yeshua Sitting Beside You

Imagine tonight that Yeshua comes and sits beside you.

Not distant.

Not hurried.

Not disappointed.

The safest presence you have ever known.

The truest friend you have ever had.

And imagine Him asking you—not with accusation, but with that unfathomable mixture of authority and love:

How much room will you give Me?

Not merely:

What will you give up?

But:

How much room will you give Me to work?

Will you give Me the outcome?

The timetable?

The person?

The thing you keep rehearsing?

The identity you have outgrown?

The explanation you demand before obedience?

The fear you keep calling discernment?

The dream you are afraid to hope for because disappointment once hurt too badly?

Will you give Me the blank?

Will you let Me write something there that has never occurred to you?

And suddenly surrender does not feel like God standing over us asking what He can take.

It feels like Love sitting beside us asking:

What will you move so I have room to give you what you could never create for yourself?

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Do You Know Who You Are Giving Room To?

Because in case we have forgotten who we are talking about—

This is the God who creates without needing raw material (Genesis 1:1–3; Hebrews 11:3).

The God who speaks and light answers (Genesis 1:3).

The God who divides seas (Exodus 14:21–22).

The God who brings water from rock (Exodus 17:5–6).

The God who makes roads through wilderness and rivers in desert places (Isaiah 43:19).

The God who calls things that are not as though they were (Romans 4:17).

The Alpha and Omega (Revelation 1:8; 21:6; 22:13).

The First and the Last (Isaiah 44:6; Revelation 1:17; 22:13).

The Beginning and the End (Revelation 21:6; 22:13).

Yeshua, the Resurrection and the Life (John 11:25).

The Way.

The Truth.

The Life. (John 14:6)

The Lover of my soul.

My righteous King.

My Warrior Lord.

Daniel saw His throne as flames of fire (Daniel 7:9–10). Habakkuk says His splendor covers the heavens (Habakkuk 3:3). The psalmist tells us the heavens declare His glory (Psalm 19:1).

And this is the One we are afraid will not know what to do with the blank?

Come on.

There comes a point when revelation demands response.

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Have Your Way

There is a prayer that becomes dangerous to everything false in us when we actually mean it:

Have Your way.

Not my edited version.

Not have Your way as long as Your way resembles the storyboard I already created.

Have.

Your.

Way.

I am Yours.

Whatever You want to do in me, with me, through me, for me—have Your way.

Think through me.

Live through me.

Love through me.

Laugh through me.

Write through me.

Speak through me.

Let my hands carry Your kindness.

Let my mouth carry Your life.

Let my presence make room for Your Presence.

Let people encounter something of Your heart because I was willing to disappear deeply enough into You that Your love could become visible through me.

“For in Him we live and move and exist” (Acts 17:28 AMP).

Not occasionally.

Not on Sunday.

Live. Move. Exist.

What happens when surrender becomes that complete?

Maybe the veil moves.

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When the Veil Moves

And now return to where we began.

The veil.

Only perhaps now you see it differently.

Maybe Holy Spirit touches one corner.

Maybe wind catches it.

Maybe it begins moving gently.

Maybe it is pulled completely aside.

But here is what I cannot get away from:

What is revealed was not necessarily created at the moment you saw it.

Some things were already there.

Presence was already there.

Provision may already have been moving.

Love was already there.

God was already God.

Your sight simply gained access to something the veil had previously obscured.

That is why I want eyes to see.

I do not want to spend my life merely staring at fabric.

I want to know what is on the other side.

I want Ephesians 3:20.

I want what eye has not seen and ear has not heard (1 Corinthians 2:9).

I want the wind of Holy Spirit moving through every room I have kept sealed because I thought certainty was safer than wonder.

I want Him to overturn assumptions that need overturning, enlarge truths I thought I understood, heal perceptions distorted by pain, and show me dimensions of His goodness that make yesterday’s understanding look like standing ankle-deep at the edge of an ocean.

How much do I want to see?

As much as You want to show me.

How much room will I give You?

All of it.

How much will I surrender?

Whatever is blocking the veil.

Because the more I know Him, the less frightening surrender becomes.

I know the One on the other side.

And He is good (Psalm 100:5).

His mercy is everlasting (Psalm 100:5).

His lovingkindness pursues me (Psalm 23:6).

His faithfulness reaches through generations (Psalm 100:5).

His goodness is not something I have to hunt down; goodness and mercy are already following me (Psalm 23:6).

So move the veil, Holy Spirit.

Move what I cannot move.

Expose what familiarity made invisible.

Open what fear kept closed.

Interrupt what I thought I knew.

Surprise me.

Show me what has been there all along.

And when You reveal something greater than what I imagined, give me the courage not to pull the veil closed again simply because the revelation requires me to become someone who can live differently now that I have seen it.

Because perhaps the question was never only:

What do you see when the veil moves?

Perhaps the greater question is:

What will you do once you can no longer say you did not see it?

The wind is moving.

The veil is lifting.

Open your hand.

Leave the blank open.

Give Him room.

And get ready—not because faith guarantees that God will arrange every circumstance according to our preferred script, but because the Father Yeshua revealed is infinitely larger, nearer, wiser, and better than the tiny spaces our fear has permitted Him to occupy.

So have Your way, Lord—move the veil until everything I thought was the edge of what was possible becomes only the threshold of what You were waiting for me to see.

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I Hear the Spirit Say

“There is more on the other side of what you can presently see.

Do not mistake the veil for the end of the room. Do not build conclusions around what has been obscured. Do not call something absent simply because your eyes have not yet been given access to it. I have been present in places where you thought nothing was happening. I have been moving inside spaces you could not interpret.

And now I am moving the veil.

Do not be afraid when what I show you rearranges what you thought you knew. You asked Me for eyes to see. You asked Me to reveal what was hidden. You asked Me to do beyond what you could ask, think, hope, or imagine. So leave room for My answer to surprise you.

You do not have to fill in the blank.

Give it to Me.

I know you want to understand how one side connects to the other. I know your mind wants to build the bridge, calculate the route, anticipate the movement, and prepare for every possible outcome. But there are places where I am asking you to exchange explanation for expectation.

Leave Me room to be God.

Open your hand.

You cannot surrender through a clenched fist, and you cannot receive through one either. The same opening that releases what you have been trying to control creates the posture capable of receiving what I have been waiting to place there.

So give Me the outcome. Give Me the timeline. Give Me the unanswered question. Give Me the place where you keep trying to write the middle because silence makes you uncomfortable.

Give Me the space between what you know and what you have not seen yet.

And watch what I do with it.

The wind does not ask the curtain for permission to move it. The sea did not teach Me how to divide it. The wilderness did not provide Me a road before I declared there would be one. Nothingness did not give Me material before I spoke creation into existence.

I am not limited by the absence of what you think I need.

I am asking you for room.

Room to surprise you.

Room to love you beyond the dimensions you have permitted yourself to expect.

Room to reveal My goodness without requiring it to arrive wearing the form you rehearsed.

Room to show you that some things you thought were missing were merely hidden behind what you could presently perceive.

And when the veil begins moving, look.

Do not become so attached to yesterday’s understanding that you miss today’s revelation. Do not pull the veil closed because what I reveal requires a larger faith than what you carried before you saw it.

Follow the movement.

Follow the wind.

Follow Me.

Because I am not moving the veil merely so you can collect another revelation. I am moving it because revelation is invitation. What I show you is calling you somewhere. What I uncover will require openness. What I illuminate will ask for response.

So say yes before you understand every detail.

Say, Have Your way.

Have Your way in me.

Have Your way through me.

Have Your way around me.

Think through me. Speak through me. Write through me. Love through me. Move through me. Let my life become an open place where Your Presence is free to move without continually colliding with my need to control what happens next.

And get ready.

Because goodness has been moving even when you could not see it. Mercy has been following even when you could not feel it. Lovingkindness has been pursuing even when the road looked empty. And My faithfulness was never suspended simply because the veil prevented you from seeing what I was doing.

Open your hand, leave the blank open, and watch the veil—because the wind of My Spirit is already moving through what you thought was still, and what I reveal next may show you that the goodness you were waiting for was on the other side all along.”