prophecy | Dreaming Beneath the Spires

On Not Despising Deliverance

“Do not despise prophecy,” the Apostle Paul says, somewhat surprisingly.

Why would we despise it? Because we tend to suspect what we do not understand? Or because prophecy can attract fools, charlatans, the unstable, and conmen seeking to gain power over others—as well as, of course, those who can genuinely tune into God?

I no longer despise prophecy because of personal experiences with those who genuinely had the gift of prophecy.

* * *

What about deliverance ministries? In the first church I attended as a Christian, in a small American town in the South, an individual gained power by labelling everything untoward as a curse or demon-caused–infertility, miscarriages, ear pain, a fear of flying–and exorcizing people. He offered to baptise me to mark my adult commitment to Christ, and when I spontaneously resisted total immersion (I was afraid, having only learnt to swim as an adult) he halted the baptism for an exorcism. (But I remained nervous!)

Eventually that person left the church, taking the best tithers with him, and founded his own church, heavily based around deliverance—a spiritually unbalanced church which, fortunately, did not survive

So I had question marks about deliverance.

* * *

Around that time, however, I picked up a book by Billy Graham, which surprisingly claimed that 90% of Christians are “demonized,” (as opposed to possessed). A dark power, what Paul calls, “evil rulers and authorities of the unseen world, mighty powers in this dark world, and spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places,” controlled aspects of their lives. They were not entirely free when it came to their inability to forgive, perhaps; their out-of-control spending, addiction to sugar, alcohol, porn, anxiety, or negative thoughts.

* * *

What happens in deliverance? Someone with greater faith or spiritual authority uses their faith to expel dark powers from areas of your life. Uses their intimacy with God to implore God’s protection, a hedge, a strong tower in that area of your life.

You find freedom. Your sleep becomes deeper and more restful.

* * *

I have been married for 26 years. Anger used to be an issue in our marriage, and we’d get all histrionic and historical, and have time-wasting fights. And since life was short, I no longer wanted to waste time on stupid fights. I wanted to use wisdom and intelligence, stepping back, thinking rationally about the issues, acting using my mind and spirit, not my agitated emotions.

I eventually decided no more. No more fights. I have had enough. I will act with wisdom. It takes two to fight, and I will not be one of the two.

In the Old Testament, people marked important junctures of their lives— a major decision, an encounter with God–by building stone pillars. I wanted to mark my decision. When I visited a worship festival which had a deliverance ministry, I signed up for one on one prayer. The prayer minister was not slick, or well-educated. He called the little area of my life which was out of self-control and Spirit-control “a critter.” He prayed with me to expel it. I sighed and sighed as I physically felt relief, sensed something leaving, something generational, felt a huge sense of relief, lightness and freedom.

Harriet Lerner calls marriage the dance of intimacy. If one partner had strong emotions they cannot process, they can press their partner’s buttons, and start a fight. So they get to avoid dealing with their own discomfort. Eventually, couples get addicted to the adrenalin of anger.

After prayer, I found less anger in myself. I might yell a little, and then find I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t summon up the anger, the passion. I realised that to act out would be acting like a fool.

It was as if God had erected a hoop, an invisible boundary around me that I could not cross. I was experiencing the paradoxical freedom of being possessed by God’s spirit… I did not have to retaliate, angry word for angry word, historical accusation for accusation, all that foolishness. I could be still and quiet and write. I could go for a run. I could have a nap.

* * *

The other deliverance was equally astonishing. I was having coffee with a Christian friend, a woman a couple of years older than me, whom I respect and like for many things…her love for people, her spiritual wisdom, her warm heart, her bounciness and cheerfulness. And, since as Thoreau says, “Every man is the builder of a temple called his body to the god he worships,” I admire her too for her body; she’s all muscle. She swims, plays tennis, and runs half-marathons, faster than most men. I once did a run with her, and she did 3 miles in the time I did one. Oh well!

My friend asked, “So how are you really?” And I said, “It is well-ish with my soul, but…” (choose the path of humility, Anita, I said to myself) “I have been told to lose weight for my health and immune system, and, well, I haven’t been hugely successful.”

And then she told me a story I would never have guessed at. This slim attractive woman had been a binge-eater in her twenties. She binged, then purged, so that though she had been twenty pounds overweight, nobody guessed at her secret sin. But she knew. And she could not break her addiction to binges. One day, she cried out to the Lord in her distress, and, she said the only way she could describe it was—she was delivered. She no longer binge-ate; she got a job which required physical activity, and for her to be at her goal weight, and, within the year, she was.

I sighed, and knew that this was a moment for humility. This was a moment of destiny. So I said with simple intensity, “Will you pray for me to be delivered?”

She prayed. Listening to someone pray I can often tell whether they have entered the Throne-room, whether they have connected with God, and, often, I can intuitively tell if the prayer will be answered.

I knew I had been delivered from an addiction to food. I had to wait to see whether the deliverance would work out as the blind man was healed, first by seeing men like trees walking, and then seeing them clearly.

* * *

My daughters noticed the change first. We were on holiday in Tuscany, which has some of the best comfort food on the planet, morish food which releases addictive dopamine, and I found myself eating some of my spaghetti alle vongole, spaghetti and clams; linguine gamberetti, zucchini e zafferano, linguine with shrimp, zucchini, and saffron; spaghetti carbonara; or ravioli with spinach and ricotta, noticing that I was full, and then offering tastes to anyone who wanted them. “Mum, whatever diet you are on, we like it,” Zoe said.

But I was not on a diet. I had begun to find it physically difficult to continue eating once I was full! There was a force within me, reminding me to stop once I had had enough.

The Spirit is a remind-er, Jesus says, an internal reminder, bringing things to our remembrance.

* * *

And then I returned home, and would reach for a snack, and Someone, a kindly Someone, asked, “Anita, are you hungry?” And I would say, “No, but I am sad. I am bored. I am agitated. I am stressed; I am feeling hyper. I need a snack to help me settle down before I write. I need a reward after I write. I need a snack to help me transition between two activities.”

And the Spirit would say, “Ask Jesus to fill your Spirit.”

I would remember: I could ask the Holy Spirit to possess my spirit. Or I could eat a bar of chocolate. I prayed; desire for the stress-relieving snack receded. (And sometimes I succumbed. Sometimes, you see men like trees walking before you see clearly.)

It kept happening. Someone would say something sharp or cross or stressful, and my blood sugar would plunge, and I would think, “I need chocolate. I need a slice of fruit cake.” And then I would think, “Anita, you are not hungry. Might the Holy Spirit do it? Invite him in.”

Voila, 100 calories saved.

I realised that I was rarely physically hungry, so much so that I almost wondered if I were getting ill again, but then I truly skipped a meal, and real hunger returned.

When I was hungry, Someone kept reminding me to ask, “Anita, what will bless your body?” And I would basically cook up a skillet of vegetables, toss in some shrimp or fish, and some noodles or brown rice or pasta. Good for my family, good for me.

And freedom too, to eat the odd bit of chocolate, the odd slice of pizza…

Simple changes, prompted by the Spirit’s reminders: Don’t eat when you are not hungry. Stop eating when you are not hungry. Choose what will bless your body.

I stepped on the scale today. A cumulative weight loss of 24 pounds, the easiest ones after that prayer. (I have more to lose, of course, but, by the grace of Jesus, want to keep my eyes on Him through the process).

In which I am Surprised by “Prophetic Words” (from the Glasgow Prophetic Centre at David’s Tent Worship Festival)

By Anita Mathias

People from the Glasgow Prophetic Centre were offering “prophetic words” at David’s Tent: An Adventure in Worship, a 72 hour worship festival I went to in August. I signed up for a 15 minute slot.

I am “prophetic” with a very small p. Prophecy, as Paul writes, is a spiritual gift, a little-understood one, though not one to be lightly dismissed, lest we miss surprising blessings. In my case (small p, remember) I often have an accurate intuitive knowledge of what is going to happen in my own life, or the lives of people I care about. It’s a love-gift: providing a little extra time to prepare for adversity, as well as a certainty and reassurance about astonishing and unlikely things that are going to happen. This “prophetic” knowledge, in my case, allows for a lot less worry and a lot more carefreeness.

However, if I took my small measure of supernatural prophetic gifting as the norm, I would be foolish indeed. There are people with great prophetic gifts. Though I don’t understand exactly how these work, they are, again, love gifts, a way for God to tell people something they would never have guessed on their own. They are words of encouragement, edification, and sometimes, warning.

For instance, Patricia Bootsma of the Toronto Airport Fellowship on a visit to Oxford, saw me, asked me if I had daughters, and said she had a word for my older daughter: Satan had brought things against her, but that she would overcome and become a leader in God’s kingdom. The prophecy filled Zoe with confidence. She hadn’t done well in her mocks, but excelled in her year 12 exams, getting 100% in RE, and an offer from Cambridge University in 2013, (though she reapplied to Oxford University in 2014, and is going there next month).

However, Emma Stark of the Glasgow Prophetic Centre had a prophecy not for Zoe, but for me.

It was the absolutely most startling experience I’ve had in many years of chasing the wild goose of the Holy Spirit. My most astonishing experience of the prophetic.

Emma asked my first name, that is all. She instantly started speaking, “seeing” things, things astonishing in their accuracy.

I turned my iPhone on, and recorded the session: 12 minutes. Here’s my transcription.

“Satan has demanded to sift you for a season, but he didn’t realise that he was actually asking for a promotion because you have been found as someone who can be trusted through the previous season.

And the Lord says, “I am about to promote you like you have never been promoted before. I am about you to lift you up into a place because you have been found as someone who can be trusted through the previous season.

And the Lord does not say this to everybody, but he says it to you. “Daughter, in the testing and in the hard places, you have been found trustworthy. I trust you. I trust you. I trust you.”

It’s time to stop cursing yourself for decisions taken in the past. I forgive you and I let you off the hook. It’s time to let these things go, for I do not view them as you view them.

I do not view you as the Sarah who laughs when the angels come. I speak of you as the Sarah of the New Testament. I speak of you as of my faithful ones, and I speak of you as one of my righteous ones. I speak of you as one of my ones of integrity.

And in the mighty name of Jesus, (with hands on my back) I forcibly extract every toxic dart that was thrown into your back, and that criticised you and criticised your reputation, and all the toxicity that came into your flesh and even brought ill-health and insomnia, I utterly break that in the name of Jesus.

(Interestingly, on all except for a handful nights since then, I have slept soundly.)

(Then, placing hands on head) I speak alignment to your sleep patterns. I speak rest to your night. I speak alertness to your day. And I hear the Spirit of the Lord say, “Daughter, you will not even know yourself for I am coming in the night, and I am coming in the day, and I am re-aligning your cycles and your patterns and the Lord says to you, “Daughter there was a day where there was energy and joy and that day is coming back again. And there was a day when there was joy, and that day is coming back again.” And the Lord says, “There was a day when you rose and s. And you found a hop, skip and jump in your step, and that day is coming back to you.

“Daughter, this season is coming to an end, and it will not be like this. And daughter, you will not even recognise yourself in the coming days.”

And the Spirit says “Oh mighty mother, here I am going to give you spiritual children to steward, for I trust you as a mother to the many.”

* * *

And the Lord says, “I have even anointed your voice to speak, and I have even anointed you as a gifted communicator.

And the Lord says, “There is something that has been stolen and lost, and no platform has opened up to you. But the spirit of the Lord says, “I am now opening up a platform for communication in your life, and you are going to be heard, you are going to be heard, you are going to be heard.

And the Lord says, “For the gift I gave you is true. The gift of communication is right, and the Lord says, “You are a woman of truth and a woman of integrity.”

(I have a stack of certificates and prizes for debating, and had done much public speaking, but not for some years.

Interestingly, out of the blue, I was invited to be interviewed by Maria Rodrigues on Premier Radio’s Woman to Woman Show on the 18^th Thursday, 20 days later. Listen here. Starts at 34.20).

* * *

(Then, just as when you are listening to God in writing, you have a first draft, and then get closer and hotter, she suddenly “saw” that I was a writer. Amazing.

She was listening to God, hearing, hearing accurately, speaking what she sensed God saying. An incredible experience to listen to. I imagine it’s as the prophets of old heard and wrote.)

So she continued, even more astonishingly,

“Daughter, I am touching your hands, for in this season, I have called you to write. I am going to bless your writing. I see you up, hidden away, and the Lord says you need to take some time to hide away and write for there is an anointing on you not just for communication that is spoken, but for communication that is written.

And the Lord says that he wants you to focus on your diary, because it needs shaking up. And there are some things that need to fall out of your diary, and there are some things that need to fall into your dairy, and the Lord says that one of the things that needs to fall into your diary is writing time and creative space. And there is a push on your diary and the Lord is being very clear with you: you are too busy; there is too much.

And the Lord says, “What you were anointed to do, communication, is being squeezed and squeezed and squeezed, and that’s why you feel in this permanent state of deep frustration. And the Lord says, “I want to take away that frustration that you have hidden deep within you, and the Lord says, ‘Bring your diary to me, and I am going to show you what you need to cut out and what you need to put in.’ There is a great permission from heaven to actually say “No.” I need to fulfil the call of God on my life, and not to plug every gap.”

And so I want you to hear from your heavenly father that He is changing the season and giving you the space to say “Actually this is important, and this is not important.”

Then Emma said, “I am going to put my hands on your hands. I take off writer’s block right now, a stuckness in the gift.

And I bless a new level of creativity in you.

And I am watching angels (if you are okay with that) open the top of your head, and they are just taking out fluff. It looks like fluff! It looks like stuck fluff in your head, wooliness, confusedness, and the Lord is releasing angels to pour glory into your brain.

And the Lord says, “No longer are you going to be in a season of confused thinking. No longer are you going to be in season of writer’s block. No longer are you going to be in a season where you don’t know how to take decisions. But the Lord says, “there was a day when you were able to think fast and take decisions and that the Lord says, “I am going to give you back the ability for fast-paced decision making and for creative thoughts to flow again.”

(I was in tears at the end of all this. Wouldn’t you be?

The moment she said “There are some things that need to fall out of your diary I knew what she meant.” I was going to a Christian activity on a weekday morning, which absorbed more than three hours of my time, but did not inspire or energize me, and, in fact, left me mentally, physically and spiritually and emotionally drained. Increasingly, my heart sunk at the thought of going. A fundamental rule of simplifying your life and managing time well is: Get out of things you dread. However, like many people who’ve moved a lot, I do not easily consider changing–homes, cities, careers, churches or small groups, but in a flash, as she spoke, I felt God release me to step out of that group, to focus on writing, and to trust him to fill the void with something far better of his choosing.

In the Old Testament God spoke through angels, asses–and prophets too. I am so glad he still does so today).

Emma continued, “And I am watching as anointing pours into your head a new colour come all over your body. And the Lord says, “I am even going to change what colours you like, and I am going to add vibrancy. I feel like colours have become stuck, even creatively. It’s actually time for a redecorating of your house because your house has got tired.” And the Lord says, “I am going to enable you financially to start to redecorate the house because the house needs it, and you need it, and more importantly, the colours that God wants to paint around about you in this season, and inside you, are completely different to what they were in the last season, because different colours mean different anointings.”

Emma was accompanied by Leah from Marketplace ministries, who said, “He’s giving you a red rose, and he’s inviting you to dance.” I see healing in deep places of your heart. All the things that are rising up for you, his hand is in that. He just wants you to hand them to him, and to invite him into those things, and really give him your heart over those matters.

He’s going to release dreams of the night and waking visions. He’s releasing a refreshing of your hopes and dreams, the desires of your heart. Your lost hopes and dreams that have been stolen from you, he is restoring those for you, he is bringing them back. So begin to notice and have hope. I break disappointment and despondency off you, and I release a new hope for you, because he’s coming with promises.

I saw a lot of flowers, a garden, with so much nurture and nourishment coming from you.”

And how great the love the Father has for us that he should provide such a specific and loving intervention through a stranger, rescuing me from a time-consuming and draining commitment that I wasn’t enjoying but hadn’t considered leaving.

That he should reassure me about my writing, and anoint me through a stranger, whom I did not even mention my writing to.

Oh how he loves me.
Love is a hurricane
I am a tree
Bending beneath the weight
Of his wind and mercy!

* * *

I have heard about Sozo Healing Ministry from Bill Johnson’s Bethel Church in Redding California, and since David’s Tent was offering 90 minutes Sozo slots, Roy and I signed up.

I brought up three worries, then sat in silence with the two prayer ministers to listen to God speak about them. God speaks through words or images. In this case, interestingly for someone as verbal as I am, He spoke in images.

I asked prayer about a memoir that is taking rather long to finish, and saw an image of snowy-covered mountains. I remembered the words from Psalm 121, “I lift up my eyes to the mountains/where does my help come from? /My help comes from the Lord,/ The Maker of heaven and earth.”

There is help in writing it, I remembered again, from the Lord, the maker of heaven and earth.

I asked for prayer for my battle with health. I have lost about 24 pounds over the last two years, but still use food as a crutch—when I find it hard to settle down to writing, when stressed, tired, bored, despondent, discouraged (though far less than I used to).

I had a powerful image of living water flowing, always flowing. There is always grace to help me in my time of need. I just need to avail myself of it, go to the waterfall of grace, and ask God for help rather than turn to chocolate for the quick blood sugar boost that will make me more resilient to long hours of work, or the sadnesses of life.

(But, chocolate is pretty amazing, let it be said.)

Interestingly, I’ve asked for prayer for both these things here and here. And I have progressed in each, though am not yet “victorious.” Sometimes that is how change happens: the “victorious limp” in Brennan Manning’s phrase.

* * *

David’s Tent was a three day worship festival. In Celebration of Discipline, Richard Foster suggests choosing prayer as a recreational activity. And when I need refreshment, and I am alone, or the rest of the family is busy, I often do.

At David’s Tent, worship was a recreational activity. And perhaps it is the purest recreation there is, the purest self-forgetfulness, forgetting oneself in worshipping God, three days spent worshipping God, an alabaster jar of precious time and energy and potential income smashed on Jesus’ feet. And the tent was filled with the fragrance of the perfume.

* * *

There were thousands of young people worshipping God. It bodes well for the future of Britain.

The musicians were largely from America; many of the audience came from Scandinavia and Germany, Holland but mainly from the United Kingdom, England, Wales and Scotland.

Several new expressions of Christianity have spread out from England—Anglicanism, of course, Presbyterianism, Methodism, the Baptists, the Quakers, you name it.

Britain is uniquely placed for the re-evangelisation of the world. Her former colonies, America, Canada, Australia, New Zealand, and those in Asia and Africa view her with affection. And Europe views the hobbits from Britain with bemused affection.

Perhaps a new wave of revival will spread out again from these shores, a new wave of love, surrender, worship, and an experience of the fullness of the Spirit.

What is revival? A massive renewed love for God and enjoyment of his presence, a commitment to him that thousands experience in common.

I hear the sounds of distant thunder. I hear the sounds of coming rain. I hear revival blowing in the wind. I smell it.

Maranatha. Come, Lord Jesus!

Prayers are Prophecies: The Transcript of your Prayers becomes your Life’s Script

By Anita Mathias

I am reading Mark Batterson’s The Circle Maker, a brilliant book on prayer and am already praying more, and praying better: one test of a good book on prayer.

Here’s an excerpt from the first chapter:

Bold prayers honour God and God honours bold prayers. God is offended by anything less than your biggest dreams or boldest prayers. If your prayers aren’t impossible to you, they are insulting to God. Why? Because they don’t require divine intervention. But ask God to part the Red Sea or make the sun stand still or float an iron axehead, and God is moved to omnipotent action.

There is nothing God loves more than keeping promises, answering prayers, performing miracles and fulfilling dreams. That is who he is. That is what he does. The bigger the prayer circle we draw around our dreams, the better, because God gets more glory.

The greatest moments in life are the miraculous moments when human impotence and divine omnipotence intersect—and they intersect when we draw a circle around the impossible situations in our lives and ask God to intervene.

I promise you this: God is ready and waiting. So while I have no idea what circumstances you find yourself in, I’m confident that you are only one prayer away from a dream fulfilled, a promise kept, or a miracle performed.

It is absolutely imperative that you come to terms with this simple, yet life-changing truth: God is for you. If you don’t believe it, then you’ll pray small timid prayers; if you do believe it, then you’ll pray big audacious prayers.

And one way or another, your small timid prayer, or your big audacious prayers will change the trajectory of your life and turn you into two totally different people.

Prayers are prophecies. They are the best predictors of your spiritual future. Who you become is determined by how you pray. Ultimately, the transcript of your prayers becomes the script of your life.

What You Know Can Set Someone Free (A Guest Post By Shelly Miller)

By Anita Mathias

I first met Shelly Miller of Redemption’s Beauty through her much-needed Sisterhood of the Sabbath. She’s on my blog today with another necessary challenge. Welcome, Shelly!

As I step over the threshold from my garage to the side yard, holding a full trash bag in my hand, the sound of something rustling in the leaves nearby startles me. I’m a bit jumpy this time of the year. I live in a part of the country inhabited by almost every species of snake. Walking barefoot in the summer is an extravagance I don’t allow myself.

As I look from side to side, scan the grass, inspect the flower beds and barbecue, I remember the source of the sound that reverberates. A blush-cheeked skink lives a few feet down the sidewalk, behind a drain pipe, nestled among leaf litter. Though the sight of a giant lizard isn’t less creepy than a snake, I can see his frozen stance like a picture hanging on a brick wall in the crevice. I know he is more afraid of me than I am of him.

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And I’m the only one who knows about the skink setting up residence in this secret place. I’m the gardener in our family.

It suddenly occurs to me that my son squawks in certainty about hearing a slithering snake, every time he takes the trash out. I just happen to be doing his job on this day and realize it’s not a snake threatening my son’s peace, but a harmless skink.

I wonder how many times I have done this; withheld information that seems trivial when sharing it would be a gift, like a prophetic word. When I offer prayerful, sometimes seemingly insignificant impressions with others, it is an act of the deepest kind of vulnerability and yet reveals the most profoundly courageous truth. God is asking me if I’ll risk looking foolish; if I’ll trust Him for the sake of love.

Perhaps He is asking you too.

There’s no equation where taking risks, braving uncertainty, and opening ourselves up to emotional exposure equals weakness. ~Brene Brown, Daring Greatly

The beautiful paradox: every time I dare to be vulnerable, expose my perceived weakness in sharing what I sense He is saying for someone else, faith grows strong like a shoot stretching tall toward the Son, for both of us.

Recently, I became reacquainted with a girlfriend on Facebook after a fifteen year lull in conversation. She reminded me of a time of barrenness, when she desperately wanted children and worried about not becoming pregnant. She says, “I still tell the story of how you had a prophetic dream that I was pregnant with our first child who is now 14. God is so good! Thanks for sharing that with me so long ago. It proves again the goodness of God and His ever present hand in our lives!”

She just had her sixth child.

Humanity shares a common trait: the desperation to be set free from ourselves, even when we don’t know it. Prophecy is the reminder that we aren’t alone; that your life and mine, they matter and He is listening.

Brene says, “We love seeing raw truth and openness in other people, but we’re afraid to let them see it in us.” And perhaps our sharing what we know, what seems insignificant to us, will transform someone’s perceived situation from a snake to a skink; help them breathe a bit easier when stepping into the unknown. It may even allow a person to release the trash they were holding back.

We are light bearers, holding torches we assumed were lit with the wisdom of our experience, when often we carry flames of truth from His tongue illuminating the mystery of the Kingdom. The Light you carry may set someone free. Share it.

What is worth doing even if you fail? Have you ever pushed away that inkling you perceived as coming from God for someone because of fear? Or perhaps you’ve been the recipient of someone else’s prophetic word in due season. Tell me about it in the comments.

Shelly Miller

Shelly Miller is a writer, photographer, clergy wife, mother of two teens, and a leadership coach. She enjoys writing stories that make people think differently about life and helping women discover their calling. You can read more of her stories on her blog, Redemptions Beauty and in her column at Living the Story. Connect with her on Facebook and Twitter.

Listening to Isabel Allum in London. Chasing the Wild Goose of the Holy Spirit. Part II

By Anita Mathias

For most of my adult life, I’ve been guided by this thought of Ralph Waldo Emerson, “Why go to drink from other men’s wells, when you can stay home, and be in touch with the internal ocean.”So I avoid listening to speakers on the importance of reading the Bible, of loving your spouse or kids, or praying, or worshipping, or writing daily, or reading poetry daily—preferring to go off and get on with it.

* * *

But yet, there is a time for learn, and a time to be inspired.

When we lived in Williamsburg, Virginia, I worked before a large picture window facing our backyard. Giant iridescent dragonflies flitted around our pond. Monarch butterflies fluttered in their mating dance. Ruby-throated hummingbirds came to our feeders. There were brilliant cardinals and cheeky blue jays.

And I, nose in book, was often oblivious to this world humming with life and colour. Until I looked up.

* * *

So too, spiritually, I can plod. Not in distress, but not on the heights. Not unhappy, but not filled to overflowing with the joy of the Lord either.

But there is so much more. And when you listen to speakers who have scaled higher altitudes of joy or peace or hearing God’s voice, or experiencing miracles, you feel, “Okay, girl, there’s immensity around you. Keep climbing.” And this great cloud of witnesses spurs you on.

* * *

I am chasing the wild goose of the Holy Spirit, and the best thing about this chase is: I am guaranteed to succeed. On the most sacred promise. If you then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him!” Luke 11:13.

“Everyone can play,” as John Wimber famously said. And everyone who asks for the Spirit receives. It’s a democracy. Like the great democratic marriage feast of the Lamb.

How much of the Holy Spirit will I receive? As much as I am willing to make room by daily repentance. By making time and clearing room. By inviting him to come.

Will everyone who asks receive the same amount? Nope. But that’s more or less okay with me, because I know the King, and I trust him, and know he’s fond of me.

And he will give me as much of the Spirit as I can stand at any given time and as I make room for by repentance, surrender and decluttering my heart and life to make room for him.

* * *

Healthwise, I’d had an awful week or so. A cough. Feeling feverish. Sleeping badly. Exhausted during the day.

So when I saw Isabel Allum was speaking in London, I thought, “Why not go?” I am low-spirited because I am feeling so grotty, and it will be refreshing.

And so I went.

And it was interesting enough.

* * *

A critique of the Toronto Blessing, and the Charismatic Movement is its similarity to magic. I recently chatted to a lovely new committed Christian about how she renounced the occult, including an addiction to fortune-tellers and clairvoyants, which was escalating financial problems, since she was contacting them several times a day, sometimes. Why? I asked. “The hope that something good might happen. The need to know,” she said.

And so, Isabel Allum packed out a hall, because she has a reputation as a prophetess. And what did people hope to hear? Predictions of destiny, greatness, “favour,” “plunder,” becoming famous, receiving the nations as an inheritance?

And I? As I said, I wanted to relax in the presence of God, soak in the things of God. And yes, I wasn’t averse to a prophecy. A confirmation of destiny, though I do have a good idea of what God is planning to do, and is doing in my life. He spoke to me when I was 21, on the day he unleashed my writing gift, out of the blue, and confirmed it last summer. So, I am a bit embarrassed that I wanted a prophetic word, such as was given to me for my daughter Zoe by Patricia Bootsma, but, hey, I did.

By the grace of God, however, I have had very clear direction for the rest of my life, of the path I should take, and now–all I need to do is take it, which is not the easiest thing. Steady step by step, and Paradise Lost gets written, and you reach your Promised Land. A thousand prophecies or none, it would still take obedience. It would still take work. It would still take sacrifice.

* * *

A lot of things Isabel was talking about were I guess “magical.” Stories of lost satnavs, medicines, diamond earrings, tools, appearing. She was like a jazz artist, one riff generating another.

It struck me that we each have faith for different things. For instance, I have faith in God’s financial provision. I pray with faith, and over the years, have experienced many miracles in this realm.

Bill Johnson has faith in God’s “creative miracles”—growing new limbs and new organs. And so he sees that happen. And Isabel magically retrieves lost objects.

I love the rich concept of the Kingdom, a mansion with many rooms. And it means different things to different people. Heidi and Rolland Baker’s concept of the Kingdom is probably closest to Jesus’s—the blind see, the deaf hear, the dead are raised to life, and the good news is preached everywhere.

But there are other aspects of the Kingdom. It is joy. It is peace. It is serenity. It is, as Ann Voskamp paraphrases Paul, being, “worried-full for nothing, thank-full for everything, prayer-full in all things.”

* * *

Isabel talked about a young girl working with her, who went to work in an organic greenhouse, and prayed in tongues all day. And the business boomed, and the plants throve, and the profits rose. The simple act of prayer brought the Kingdom into the greenhouse. I have heard the same stories come out out of Ffald-y-Brenin, once they started praying blessing on neighbouring farms and businesses.

And that too is the Kingdom. Praying through your day. Seeing God’s hand in little things (Isabel gives examples of parking spaces, and things being marked down in the grocery store just before you get to that aisle. Seeing it as God’s provision fills our life with joy.) Being thankful. Praying big prayers.

* * *

The medium is often the message. Isabel, a Costa Rican, whose Hispanic accent I often had trouble following, spoke childlikely with a continuous smile. The joy seemed real.

Ah, what prevents me living like that, praying through my day, thanking God for his goodness to me, both evident goodness and goodness I accept by faith? Rejoicing always, praying constantly, in everything giving things. Nothing stops me from trying to live like that! And so I will.

And for that inspiration, I am happy I looked up from my books, and saw a bright ruby-throated hummingbird flutter through an English May; iridescent dragonflies sweep, and monarch butterflies on their prophetic migration.

In Which God sends Ravens and Meat in the Wilderness

By Anita Mathias

Sermon on Elijah at St. Aldate’s (1 Kings 17)

A mixture of the sermon notes and my thoughts

Elijah Fed by Ravens

1Now Elijah the Tishbite, from Tishbe^a in Gilead, said to Ahab, “As the LORD, the God of Israel, lives, whom I serve, there will be neither dew nor rain in the next few years except at my word.”

The Prophetic in the old-fashioned sense. God gives his servants a foreknowledge of what he is going to do. “Surely the Sovereign LORD does nothing without revealing his plan to his servants the prophets.” Amos 3:7

2Then the word of the LORD came to Elijah: 3“Leave here, turn eastward and hide in the Kerith Ravine, east of the Jordan.4You will drink from the brook, and I have ordered the ravens to feed you there.”

God’s way of dealing with his servants.

At one moment, enormous power, and exaltation to the courts of princes.

And then, “Hide in the Kerith Ravine.”

Without the hiding, they would burn out in the prince’s courts.

One might need to eschew visibility to find God.
The downward mobility that is often part of God’s call.
Downward mobility to prepare you for upward mobility.

Turning from visibility to the formative desert–AT and AFTER moments of high visibility.

If you are currently invisible, be comforted, be comfortable, rejoice, hide yourself in God.

If you are currently visible, make sure you hide yourself in God.

We are never invisible to God, and that is enough.

” A good man is never less alone, than when he is alone with God.”

In obscurity with God, life- and world changing encounters happen.

5So he did what the LORD had told him. He went to the Kerith Ravine, east of the Jordan, and stayed there. 6The ravens brought him bread and meat in the morning and bread and meat in the evening, and he drank from the brook.

From visibility to hiddenness. From the courts of princes to being hidden.

The Prophetic comes at a cost. Neither dew nor rain for both Israel and Elijah himself.

Elijah was commanded by God to go the most barren and inhospitable place with no normal food supply to get food and water.

We talk so much about our needs, “the healing power of social support,” our needs for friendship, for community, and all these are valid needs.

And yet, what do we make of Elijah sent off to be alone in a desert place?

For sustained dialogue with God, the kind of sustained dialogue which leads to breakthrough and transformation of one’s life, one needs to be alone, one needs, perhaps, to be lonely, to have the sort of inner quietness within oneself in which one can hear God’s voice.

And so in our bleak seasons we’d do well to remember this prophet summoned to the wilderness, to a shortage of food and friendship, and approbation and attention.

And he was not the first person who discovered angels in the wilderness, in his case, ravens.

The Widow at Zarephath. Elijah challenges the woman close to death from inanition and starvation to first feed him. Come on, Elijah!!

She senses something of God in him, and does so (despite being a “pagan” woman).The law of the tides. When we give from our poverty of time, energy, resources, money, creativity, good ideas, God multiplies our resources.In fact, the best way to get more creativity, energy, time, resources is to generously give what you have.

Elijah is sent to the least of these in a foreign land. “That is the Gospel, That God CARES about the penniless, lonely, forsaken and poor,” and about YOU and me.

And here is my response to the sermon, written that afternoon as I was mulling over it.

Elijah

Now Elijah the Tishbite, said to Ahab,

“As the Lord, the God of Israel, lives,

Whom I serve,

There will be neither dew nor rain in the next few years

Except at my word.” 1 Kings 17

The Lord exalts his prophets to the court of princes,

He tells him what is to happen,

Giving him power one cannot fathom.

Which can make him seem crazed.

And how does he equip his prophet

To deal with the electricity

Of the knowledge of what is to come,

The burden of being thought a fool

Which can belong to those who hear the word of God?

After seasons of great visibility,

He moves him to hiddenness.

Then the word of the LORD came to Elijah:

“Leave here, turn eastward

and hide in the Kerith Ravine, east of the Jordan.

“The Kerith Ravine, east of the Jordan, Lord?

But I heard you call me to the court of the King

I thought that was my vocation.”

“You did.

I did.

It was.

But I now call you to something different.”

“But the Kerith Ravine is barren,

It has no food.

No one lives there.

I have heard men tell of the healing power of social support

I have read that it is not good for man to be alone.

I have heard that iron sharpens iron,

That you show each man a slightly

Different diamond-facet of your face,

So that in community, the jigsaw

Of your revelation of yourself is complete

‘Go alone to the Kerith Ravine.’

I might be lonely there.”

“You might, Elijah, you might.

But I will meet you there,

Teach you there,

Comfort you there.

Can I be heard amidst the pomp of Ahab’s court,

The adulation of the people of Israel

The laughter, warmth and happy

after-echoes of friendship?

When you talk all the time

When people talk to you all the time

When conversation echoes in your ears

And you leave head whirring with yeasty talk,

Can you still hear my voice,

My gentle whisper?

It is more difficult.

You might well be lonely.

But I who created you

And know the secret roots within you

Which neither you nor the world has guessed,

I will be your friend.

I will nourish you,

Teach you of the joy of my presence,

Fill you with laughter as I draw near,

Flow through you in waves of liquid love,

Make you drunk with the wine of my spirit.

I will teach you that though I am a giver

And love to give you the good things I have created

I am, in fact, enough.

And you will know that for sure

When all you have is me.

I am enough.

I am even practical.

You will drink from the brook,

And I have ordered the ravens to feed you there.

Providing for you though what your people reckon unclean.

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So Elijah went to the Kerith Ravine,

and the ravens brought him bread and meat

and he drank from the brook.

Some time later, the brook dried up

Because there had been no rain in the land.

“Lord, did I not hear you command me to drink from this brook,

And it is now dry.

Lord? Lord?”

“You did, Elijah,

I did.

And it is indeed now dry.

But, though you may not suspect me of it,

I am, in fact, intensely practical.

When necessary, I speak new words.

Go at once to Zarephath of Sidon and stay there.

I have commanded a widow to supply you with food.

Yes, I know it is the centre of Baal worship.

But I will again provide for you through the least

Of those you reckon unclean

Blessing them and you

In the circle of blessing in which I delight. ”

“But I had heard you call me to be a hermit by the brook.

I have grown to rather like it here.

I thought that was my vocation.”

“You did.

I did.

It was.

But today is a new day,

And I come to you with a new word.

As I will keep coming as long as you live

Shaking you with new wisdom, new challenges,

And mercies new every morning.”

So Elijah went to Zarephath.

When Forgiveness Unleashes the River of Creativity

By Anita Mathias

Waterfall Over Rocks

About four years ago, I attended a prophetic training day at a large Anglican Charismatic Church in Oxford. I was taken aback when Rachel, the self-described “prophetess” leading it, asked us to give the person next to us “a word from God.”

I do hear from God, all the time, in images and directives, but they coalesce slowly. It seemed presumptuous to require that God give me a word on-demand for the woman next to me, so I did not ask, did not receive, and did not share.

* * *

However, the pretty, heavily made-up young woman (not your garden variety Old Testament prophet) seated next to me shared a prophetic vision she had received for me.

She said, “I saw you in a river, and you were swimming deep in it.”

I got tearful, and here’s why.

While driving on a spectacular road to Milford Sound, South Island, New Zealand the previous month, I had stood spellbound in front of a waterfall. It’s like God, I thought, his power, his love, his freedom, and his energy.

And I saw rocks in the waterfall, and behind the rocks, sticks, leaves, little worms, stuck there, while the water rushed on.

Never let that be me, Lord, I thought, stuck somewhere, rotting, while your river of love and power and energy, and miracles rushes elsewhere.

Are there any barriers to the free flow of your love and power in me? Show them to me!

And God did.

* * *

I was going though “a great sadness” because of how I was treated in a toxic, abusive Anglican Charismatic church—lied about, slandered by a couple of women who wanted to run a ministry I was then running–and got to do so!! The rector’s wife, threatened by anyone she perceived as really gifted, lost no time in crushing giftedness in others. I should have been flattered that she perceived me as gifted and competition; instead I felt crushed by her abusive words and actions.

Had I forgiven? Gosh, not then!

I wanted justice. Oh, how I wanted it!

And I froze. My spirit froze. My creativity froze. I was cold and hard and frozen as I waited for God to avenge me. This state of affairs had lasted for 20 months.

And so I stood in front of that waterfall in New Zealand, and saw, as in a vision, my enemies moving on their lives, life moving on, while I remained stuck in a great sadness, waiting for God to execute vengeance, frozen, unable to settle down to writing.

And so I forgave them all, those rascals. (At least, I began the process, which is almost complete five and a half years after those events!)

But God saw my desire to forgive, and no sooner did I make the herculean attempt to do so, than the writers’ block which had plagued me vanished. Words began to flow. Easily. Writers’ blocks, like depression, can be caused by unexamined grief and rage.

I began to blog, which changed my life.

And how did the pretty young girl know that what I was writing on that very week was on the river of God? She said, “I was thinking of Ezekiel 47.”

I read it. Wherever water from the sanctuary flows, it turned the salty and brackish water sweet. Fruit trees grew on both banks of that river, bearing fruit every month because the water from the sanctuary flowed to them. And that river provided all kinds of fish.

Creativity, life, blessing, abundance from the river of God, flowing from the sanctuary.

And another young lady sitting next to me said, “I see a river, and a log floating in it. I don’t know if it’s a dead log, or…”

I asked God to remove that log (what else can I do about the secret mysterious recesses of my heart, which I don’t full understand, but pray?) and make of it a chair to sit on, a table to write on, a fire to warm me as I write words which will bless many. for many years.

LIVING WATERS

A waterfall, crashing from the heights,

dazzling energy, like the Spirit

of God. I am but toe-deep

in your lovely waters, Lord,

mostly dry, for most of the day,

but I want to wade, ever deeper

into your rivers of delight.

I want to live there, your waters,

cascading around me,

scouring out the ash in me,

irrigating my barren soul,