Elsie May's Aren.

In the Eragon books, Aren was the name of a elven ring, from the Hebrew meaning "mountain of strength," which was embedded with a sapphire specially crafted by the elves for the purpose of holding enormous energy. In Brisingr, during Brom's self-imposed exile in Carvahall, he stored away every bit of power he could spare into the sapphire jewel. Aren became one of Eragon's inheritance possessions after Brom's death. Eragon used it twice: he washed away all of his aches and pains once, and found that he had taken very little from the ring, showing the huge extent of the power that had been stored; the second time, in Inheritance, Eragon expended Aren's energy in a massive blast to throw boulders and rubble at Thorn and Murtagh during their battle at the siege of Dras-Leona. 

This AM's listen: finished off the Jonathan Welton "Old to New" talk. Yesterday, during the first portion, he mentioned again that he was a sixth generation Christian. My thought: God doesn't have any grandchildren. Why even mention it? Is that some sort of pedigree?
I think I only said that because I didn't know what I was missing. 

Next up on this AM's listen: the Tipping Point talk from Shawn Bolz… the $100 bill under the watch set me off. 
If there is only one thing I can do or accomplish, it is to give 100% of who I am, and my full devotion to God. Let me be raised up to give 100%. If I have to fail in anything, let it be mere gifting. Let me not fail in effort. To give all that I can and let the chips fall where they may, that is my pursuit.

First that, then this. Are they connected?

Revelation, impartation. Driving in the truck down the hill under the 14 into Sylmar. Still listening to Shawn Bolz. He said this, and this is what set it off:

A generation, or 2000 years of Christianity, has paid a price for something to culminate. For a boiling point to be reached. For a tipping point to be reached. And the prophetic generation not only sees what they're called to, but they're seeing all the other people who have paid a price and who were pioneers and forerunners can can start to see their operation in their gifting and what was deposited and they can call it forth into their generation. So, we're seeing what was available and we're calling it forward into our generation, so that it takes its place; so that we can be those great champions who have champion gifts, but have a focus on the Giver the whole time. 

In a single blink, a curtain was yanked off of the wall, and I saw a window opened - I realized a panoramic entirety: My grandmother's prayers were not only for my salvation. I've known all along that a big part of me coming to Christ in the first place was the work she did in prayer for me. But in this moment, I knew she was more than an average Christian. She was a Normal Christian. She was a prophetess, hindered by her time's fundamentalist box from spreading her own wings. So. She had prayed for her beloved son, my father, to be Someone in Christ. My dad was gifted, special, with the real heart to fight for justice, to be a protector, moral, with the nose for everything right. The Marine, the policeman. He was naturally all that, but he was meant to be more in the Lord, and my grandmother had seen it and pulled it down for him. But he never laid hold of any of it. Because of his brokenness and self-doubt he never was able to take it up.

She had prayed so many prayers for him, laid up so much promise, all of it just waiting. Even now after his death, like a treasure hidden away in a cloud, timelessly waiting to be found, opened and inherited.

Everything she had prayed and hoped for for my father and for me, available to me now. Decades of stored up blessing. Sleepless nights, glory, tears, trust. Investment, investment, investment. Decades of investment hanging there in the air before me. 

I just reached out and took it.

Boom. I can't really try to describe my experience - I was really kind of only half there for it. I hyperventilated. My vision greyed out - I nearly blacked out, and I prayed, God don't let me wreck this truck. My nerves were simultaneously numb and senseless and sparking and jangling. 10 minutes later my fingertips were still tingling. 

I recovered a little, and said to my grandmother in the Lord:
Dear sister, dear grandmother. Elsie May, my heritage. I receive all that you had stored up. I receive it, I receive it all. The mantle that you laid down in humility, I pick up with honor. In humility, I receive it and wear it and walk it forward to honor God, to the glory of God. All the prayers and sleepless nights and all that you invested and all that you foresaw for Karl and wanted for him, and he never took up, I receive. All that you prayed for me I receive as well, but I receive the double portion - his as well. I take it all in. I will pay it forward: your ceiling, my floor. My ceiling will be the next generation's floor. Your bloodline, grandmother; my bloodline in Christ; in the natural, in the spiritual, in the kingdom, in the new covenant. I promise this: I will walk it forward. I take it all, I receive it all, to God's glory in the highest.

Received, in power, another shortcut, another upgrade. A legacy. An Aren ring that I will sink into as part of my full-armor kit. This is the benefit and the blessing of having a spiritual heritage. Apologies, Jonathan Welton. Now I understand.
Now I will sow into the next generation, knowing that work done is never undone. Power and strength and promise, once apprehended, is not fruitlessly lost to the wind. 

What does it all mean? The last line for the morning, a conspiratorial whispered promise from the HS: 
We will unwrap this together.