Sunday, September 22, 2013

Back to the Desert

Back to the desert today.

Walked into church and my friend was giving a beautiful alter call.

No, we weren't THAT late. My friend's church often calls people up for prayer in the beginning of service so people can lay their heavy burdens down before opening their hearts to the message.

I often go to the desert when I'm really thirsty. Ironic, I know. But I always find the Living Water there.

As soon as I stepped in the door and heard my friend speaking, the waterworks started to flow. I told my family, "Hold my Bible. I'm going forward." As my friend finished sharing a few Scriptures, I told her mom and dad who were waiting at the front that I wanted prayer. They grabbed another lady who they knew had great faith. She told my friend's dad, "Stand behind her." She told me, "Raise your hands."

I began to pray, telling God, "I believe," imagining I was the woman in the Bible who just had to get to Jesus and touch the hem of his garment to be healed.

Without me telling the issue to the woman praying, as if she was reading my last doctor's report, she prayed for inflammation to leave my body.

It wasn't weird at all. It was God. And God's power shows up best in weak people. He is so lovingly powerful, and I am so weak at times, I just can't stand up in His presence. His Presence showed up and I prayed quietly in the Spirit as the others prayed many prayers of blessing over me.

Then I got up, saw my friend commissioned as a minister of small groups, heard a passionate sermon on the lost people groups of the world, and shared a bountiful lunch with old friends.

That's what I call feasting in the desert. With chocolate cake for dessert.

Update: After this day, God had to remind me of the story in the Bible when Jesus asked, "Do you even want to be healed?" I believe the healing prayer above worked in conjunction with me getting motivated to find a new doctor, and submit with resolve to consistent injections to heal the inflammation. I'm thankful God used Dr. Luke in the Bible, and still uses doctors today. He uses the spiritual realm in connection with the physical realm. (Perhaps writing an "Expectant Adoption" blog in conjunction with an "Enjoying God's Presence" blog is symbolic of that fact. God is birthing new things.) 

To read about a time I was prayed over and not quickly healed--I believed there was a reason, but perhaps a more motivated faith would've gotten me to the result sooner--read http://hisauthor.blogspot.com/2013/01/the-desert-oasis.html.

Thursday, July 18, 2013

Does God Still Speak?

Is it rare for people to listen for the voice of God and follow Him? The DEFINITION of the word Christian is “Christ-follower.” Not that I always follow perfectly, but I’m trying.

I was walking on the sidewalk through town with some friends and I heard the Lord say, “I have something for you. If you go into a shop, I want you to buy something.” Right afterwards, the friends towards the front of the pack entered a quaint antique store overflowing with two floors of unique vintage items. Again I heard the Lord speak.

“I want you to go straight. Keep going. Okay, now turn right.”

After slowly going straight over the old wooden floors through the dim lighting, I took a few steps to the right. I immediately spied what I was meant to purchase.

The little devotional book was a somewhat hidden treasure, or at least an unrecognizable treasure to most eyes, amidst many other sparkling temptations.

I gently moved the teapot sitting on top of my treasure to peer inside the little book. It was exactly what I needed.

I perched myself on an old vintage step stool that matched the style my grandmother had in her kitchen when I was a child: a tall, thin metal chair with two steps that pulled out clockwise from underneath.

I immediately began to feast on the honest prayers of consolation and Scriptures that were as apples of gold in settings of silver.

God’s presence was further solidified in His present to me.

The law from your mouth is more precious to me
than thousands of pieces of silver and gold.  -Psalm 119:72

Thank you, God, that you are REAL. And so good.

And when we obey Him, every path he guides us on is fragrant with his lovingkindness and His truth.  -Psalm 25:10

(And, bonus, my friend brought me a vintage desk set this morning that she didn't want anymore.) 


Tuesday, July 16, 2013

The Wilderness is Not My Home

One dream that I had just before I became aware of my third miscarriage was me comforting my three children in Heaven. I told them that family was of high priority to me...which in essence comforted me later because of the guilt feelings women often have wondering what they did wrong to cause the miscarriage.

I was thinking about that dream today. So accurate, as I have now had three miscarriages. So accurate, as to the sizes of the children and the times when I miscarried (once before our thirteen-year -old son, and two after). So accurate, as to God preparing a place for us in Heaven. It was a rather large house under construction. I was standing in the middle of the construction zone with my kids explaining the importance of family.

So real. And Heaven is real. It wasn't all clouds. The kids were tangible. The structure was tangible. Definitely something to look forward to.

Another reminder that the wilderness of earth is not the Promised Land. And the Promised Land is going to be GOOOOOD!

Tuesday, February 26, 2013

A Voice in the Wilderness

Beth Moore, in her book Praying God's Word Day By Day asks, "Will we let Satan clean our carcasses to the bone because we let them drop in the desert of defeat?"

The Israelites wandered in the desert for forty years. During that time, God led them with a pillar of smoke by day and a pillar of fire by night. He fed them daily. He gave them water from a rock. God remained faithful.

But the time came for them to venture into the Promised Land. They no longer fed on simple daily bread, but ate the fruit of the land of Canaan. They each received an inheritance designed especially for them.

John, Zachariah's son, was "a voice of one calling in the wilderness." John, out in the desert at the time, received a message from God. Isaiah had predicted such "thunder in the desert."

John began to baptize people with water, symbolic of their turning to God. After John baptized people in the desert with water, he explained that One was coming who was greater. God was faithful in the desert, but a greater opportunity was on the way.

Jesus came that we might have life, and have it more abundantly. Life is more than turning to God and getting baptized.

When Jesus ascended back into the heavens, a Comforter arrived, the Holy Spirit. Let us be baptized in the riches of His rest. Let us feast on the fullness of His fruit. Let our lives be so covered with the Comforter that His love, peace, joy, and kindness permeate and saturate all we do.


Friday, February 15, 2013

A Message of Grace and Love in the Desert

I fell asleep after a long day's work--a long day trying to do everything just right.

Suddenly, I  was at a workplace in my dream.

In my dream, my boss was the One who I've come to know as the Angel of the Lord--the Lord God Himself in human form.

No halo apparent, no wings apparent, no white robe as a garment.

But definitely full of light and somewhat "glowing."

From top to bottom: salt and pepper hair (more salt than pepper); kind, soft, clear, loving eyes; even bronzed skin. Clean cut--blending in with everyone else, wanting to be with everyone, yet standing out in a crowd, wearing a nice, button-down shirt and khaki pants.

He is present, aware, involved, and understanding. He is giving of His time and His concern. He trusts me as His worker. He is gracious in His actions and with His resources. He cares about my son. He relates because His Son is the pride and joy of His life.

He cares about my time. He cares about everyone who comes to Him. He is a diligent overseer, yet not afraid to be seen as a Helper.

He is gentle and tender in His actions and in His voice. He loves me. And I love Him.

"If people love Me, they will obey My teaching. My Father will love them, and We will come to them and make Our home with them." John 14:23

Friday, February 8, 2013

Messengers in the Desert

So I reach in front of this man at the grocery store to get what I need from the shelf. He says how wonderful it is I'm buying healthy snacks for my family. He knows I have a family?

He says some more kind words. I don't say much of anything, a little embarrassed I'd reached in front of him. 

Then he walks down the aisle singing, "He who the Son has set free, is free indeed." 

When I proceed to checkout, he arrives at the same time, a couple rows over. As if no one else is in the store, as if He knows what I'm thinking, He says, "Remember, you aren't anyone's doormat" (or did he say doorman?) Hmmm...both could be significant since the title of one of my books is The Doorman to Heaven.

So I head to the doctor's office. I casually let my eyes glance at the spiritual book the glowing, wise, older man next to me is reading. We don't speak. 

As I get up to leave, He says, "Are you ready to live the second half of your life?" I nod my head yes, knowing exactly what he means. It was my 40th birthday, I'd been thinking about how that's about the mid-point of life, and I'd read about Job's life that morning...how God blessed the second half of Job's life more than the first. Hmmm...

Dreams in the Desert

Jesus loves me. He reaches out to me in so many ways. He reaches out to everyone.

Jesus loves to communicate. Some people are trying to figure out how to communicate with beings from outer space. Does anyone get that God can still speak to us like He did in "Bible times?" In fact, we are still living in "Bible times."

Even in the Book of Samuel when God spoke to Samuel, it says that the word of the Lord was rare and there were not many visions.

Everyone dreams. There's nothing weird about that.

Some dreams are God-given. Other dreams are from too much television.

Visions aren't weird either. Have you ever imagined the scenes of a story you were telling to a child at bedtime, with no book in hand? Visions are kind of like that.

God gave me a dream hours before my grandma died. I told her it was okay to let go, okay to stop struggling. A heart-shaped cloud made a doorway to heaven for her.

I had a dream that proceeded a miscarriage that later was a comfort as God knew it would happen ahead of time and in the dream I spoke with my three babies in heaven.

An unforgettable and comforting dream was that of the cross radiating light beams from the center.

A vision given while resting one day: Jesus was celebrating my 30th birthday with me. We had a wonderful time--just Him and His little girl. The gift He gave me was a wooden writing box full of writing paper. At the time, I didn't know its significance. I didn't know I would write two books. The first book: The Doorman to Heaven (link)


My second book, Praying through the Letters.
(Link)

 

The Lord gave my dad the gift of writing too. One night, He woke my dad up and immediately put an entire poem of four perfect stanzas on my dad's heart, and twenty-eight years later the poem, Sweet Gentle Rain, was published with several more poems the Lord gave my dad in the book Sweet Gentle Rain (link).

Pray that the Lord would give you visions and dreams, and words of blessing to share with others. Pray that He would minister to you while you sleep. Get enough sleep.

Meditate on His Word at all times. Think about what is true and right and lovely and pure and admirable and excellent.

Have sweet dreams in the Lord!



Wednesday, January 30, 2013

The Desert Oasis

I was so thirsty for more of the Living Water, I drove an hour to the desert to visit a friend and her church called The Oasis.

I'd been prayed over many years before and had wanted to yield to God so much that after I'd stood for quite some time, and had begun to teeter a bit, I let myself slowly half sit, half fall backwards.

On another occasion, after knowing I'd let myself fall previously, I resolved not to fall while being prayed over. And I didn't.

My experience at the Oasis was unlike either of the first two scenarios.

First and foremost, it was evident a woman had been praying at, over, and around the altar in preparation for the service, perhaps for hours, perhaps for days.

Secondly, the time of worship was joyful and free. Hands raised. Celebratory worship music. Even skipping, which I enjoyed immensely. It was Heaven-like.

Third, an "altar call" for anyone who wanted to be prayed over. I couldn't wait. I popped out of my seat and began to make my way up the aisle. The powerful presence of God in that place was undeniable. As my friend's mom puts it, it was like I "melted" into liquid before I even got half way down the aisle, and found myself on the floor, the weight of my earthly load lightened 100%, even if for only a few moments. It was like I'd entered God's rest. His yoke is easy. His burden is oh so light.

Fourth, the sermon was preached without fear of following God's leading, even in the middle. God knew I had traveled far to have my thirst quenched. The pastor didn't. He pointed to me and asked me to come forward. When I got to that powerfully anointed altar, I immediately fell to my knees without thinking, without a word. Not normally my timid, analytical protocol in unfamiliar territory with all eyes on me. But God's holy presence compelled it. The pastor explained to the congregation that God was demonstrating what all of our responses to the King of Kings should be, and will be.

Fifth, at the end, I was prayed over for healing. I'm not sure what I expected. I don't have a colon so I live with the effects of that. I guess I hoped either a new colon would form, or that the effects of not having one would go away. But in my heart, at least for the time being, I knew that the effects of not having a colon were the "thorn in my flesh." As the apostle Paul puts it, "a thorn was given me in the flesh to harass me, to keep me from becoming conceited because of the surpassing greatness of the revelations." (Second Corinthians 12:7)


40 Years in the Desert

Before I was born, God knew I would write this blog. He prepared good works for me to do, that I should walk in them. Lord, help me walk and not run.

He knew my mom would take me to Sunday School when I was seven.

He knew my Sunday School teacher would invite the children to know Jesus.

He knew my mom would pray with me in the privacy of home to receive him.

He knew I would grow up in a Christian non-denominational community church.

He knew that the Holy Spirit would stir that church.

He knew we would begin to pray over one another increasingly often in the sanctuary.

God knew the older women would encourage me to pray over people.

He knew I would weep fervently while praying over a man who I knew nothing about. It was Jesus weeping through me. Glory be to God, who can bring forth water from a rock in a desert.

He knew my mom would suddenly receive a prayer language while praying over someone starting with saying "glory, glory, glory." Glory be to God.

God was faithful through the move we made to another town, where we attended a baptist church, a charismatic church, and a non-denominational community church.

God provided me the opportunity to attend an evangelical university, Azusa Pacific.

He knew Youth With a Mission would visit one night, and a lady would pray over me.

She also gave me a tract that explained how to receive the gift of speaking in tongues.

I followed it. As I knelt in the privacy of my apartment by the soft glow of my bedroom lamp, I asked God to remove any bitterness, unforgiveness, or doubt in me. I asked him to show me anything that wasn't pleasing to him, and confessed it. I asked Jesus to cleanse me anew. I raised my hands and asked the Holy Spirit to fill me. I can't recall if I asked to speak in tongues or not.

I followed the instructions in the tract and started to open my mouth to make a sound when the Holy Spirit took over and suddenly I was powerfully and rapidly speaking a language I'd never learned, crying, and laughing, and being filled and emotionally healed in Jesus' Name. My roommates thought the international students next door were having an enthusiastic conversation.

Besides a short stint in a somewhat charismatic church while I attended Azusa Pacific, I've been firmly planted in evangelical, non-charismatic churches ever since. Except for a trip out to the desert when things were seeming really dry to visit a church called the Oasis. I write about that in my entry, "The Desert Oasis."