I hate change. I just want to function effectively, not learn something new every time I'm trying to do something. I go to the store to get bread, and they move the bread isle. I hate that. I don't want to walk all over the store trying to find it, I just want to pick up a loaf, not tour the newly decorated isles! I finally learn how to post on Facebook, or how to get from one thing to another in my computer and they come out with windows 8! Ugh! Now I have to start all over and learn something again! I hate that. In my mind I scream "Stop giving me upgrades and updates! I like things the way they were!"
.
It's the same way in church. I get used to things "being" a certain way. I played piano for many years when the church decided to buy a new one. They bought an expensive Kurzweil digital piano. It had more buttons and gadgets on it than I knew how to use! It was a cross between a piano and a really wild keyboard! I HATED it! I just wanted a piano, a beautiful simple piano. I didn't want to learn a new instrument! I rebelled. I refused to play any of the extra gadgets or buttons. I parked it on "grand piano" and left it there, and got irritated whenever anyone moved the functions! And I complained about how much money we spent on all those gadgets that I never use!
.
Then one day I discovered the transpose key! Wow! What a feature! If someone started a song in some crazy odd key, I no longer had to struggle to figure out what Dm for F is in B! I could just push the transpose button and voila!
.
I get used to the music being a certain way, and low and behold people come along changing it, constantly giving us "upgrades" and add-ons! Automatically my spirit rejects it! I don't want to go anywhere I haven't been already! I've learned how to find God here in this little closet and I don't want to go "forward and backwards and on the right hand where he works..." I just want to go get him where I remember he has always been for me!
.
Yesterday Sis. Joyce P. and I were discussing this, and she said she loves change because it keeps her on her toes. Yes it does. That's why I don't like it! It doesn't allow me to sit back at ease.
.
As I have come to recognize that I don't like change, my spirit has gotten better because I now realize where my fear and resistance comes from. I'm afraid that if you move my cheese, I won't be able to find it again or in the same way that I did before. (Yes, I've read "Who Moved My Cheese" and I recommend this book to everyone!).
.
I finally gave in to the extreme issues of my laptop and bought a new one, with windows 8 on it. At first it was so frustrating, I almost took it back to the store! But now I'm beginning to learn the features. Now I LOVE it! But I had to sit through some tutorials!
.
This just dawned on me today: When things begin to change at the church and I get worried or anxious or feel that I no longer know how to operate, or what is expected of me, I just have to sit through some tutorials! This may include counsel or learning from others, or practicing, but then what I hate may actually become something I am very pleased with after all!
Thursday, July 31, 2014
Monday, July 28, 2014
First Encounters- Chapter 2 - written July 2014
My friend and I had been constant companions for the previous 2 weeks. I had been staying with her while we attended the revivals. She was the only friend I had who seemed to see the excitement of being a Christian, on fire for the Lord, ready to witness to any one on the street! When we saw an ambulance go by, we would pull over and hold hands and pray earnestly for the person to be okay and rebuked the devil for causing the accident! We were full of zeal! I knew that I was called "to be a part of a latter rain ministry". I didn't have a clue what that really meant, but I was eager to jump in! My friend and I went house to house laying our hands on sick people and rebuking the devil! We visited churches and spoke in their Sunday Schools about the end times we were living in and people's need to make sure they are right with God. We were going forth in the spirit and power of Elijah, crying "Repent for the kingdom of heaven is at hand!"
We visited the Church in Paragould that Friday night and I took my friend with me. Sitting in service that first time, I was intrigued. This church, mom and dad believed, could be the answer to all our searching. But I knew that God had already begun something in my spirit and in my life. I would be very reluctant to hand that over to just going to a church some where again! So I sat in service with a critical eye. One thing I noticed was that they all looked clean and "churchy". My friend leaned over to me and said "These are just one-ness Pentecostals." I replied "You think so?" She continued "See they all have long hair and no jewelry. That's what they are". I was well aware of what oneness and Pentecostals were, but they were also all about hellfire and brimstone and we were told they didn't preach that here, and if they didn't then this was like no other place that we'd ever been before. But we needed to clarify that and watch and see how things go.
I wasn't opposed to their dress standard. As a matter of fact, I respected it. I remembered in the Assembly of God, one of the pastors that was sent there, had a wife who only wore dresses. I remember at 12 or 13 years old thinking "When I get to be a Christian, I'm going to be like her".
During that first service, my friend was in my ear continually, whispering about the things said and done. It was made clear to me that she didn't like this church and she was a big influence on me as well. She and I left before service was out and that night I returned home for a while.
That night I had a dream. I dreamed that I was standing in one room looking towards another room that was through a doorway. I was about to cross the threshold. Before I crossed I wanted to bring my friend with me so I looked to see where she was and I grabbed her hand and I crossed the threshold, and when I crossed over, our hands split and when I looked back, she was standing in the arms of a man she had just went out on a date with a couple of times. So I knew that where I was going, she would not be coming with me. The next time I talked to her, she accepted to marry that man that I saw her with, standing in his arms.
The next night, I decided to give this church a fresh try again. So this time, I went without my friend and decided to feel it out for myself. While I was waiting on mom and dad to finish getting ready, I was sitting in the living room, and I picked up one of my dad's little booklets that he had just gotten in the mail. It was a Megiddo church booklet. I began reading it. The author was talking about the devil, but almost in a mocking way. "Some people believe that the devil is a red fork-tailed creature with a long fork in his hand". As I was reading, I wasn't sure what his point was. I remember my dad saying "Deb, what do you think about that book?" I said "He sounds like he's saying he doesn't believe in the devil!" Dad replied "He don't!" I said "Oh, I don't believe that" and I tossed the book over on the end table. Dad replied "I don't know. He makes sense. I've never thought of it before the way he brings it out, but I'm going to read it and consider it".
My eyes rolled. Oh my gosh. As if we're not different enough from normal Christians! We don't need yet another crazy doctrine to separate us from churches. I crawled in the back seat of our car and looked out the window as mom drove towards the church. I considered the idea of no devil. But how could there be no devil? What about all the bad things that happened in the world? What about the Enemy, the Opposer of us all, who doesn't want us to be saved? What about that show "The Excorcist"?! There had to be a devil. Maybe he's not red, and maybe he doesn't carry a pitchfork or have a fork-tail, but there has got to be a devil. Otherwise, why do I have the problems that I have?!
All the way to Paragould (about a 30 minute drive) I contemplated this new idea of there not being a devil.
Finally we arrived at the church and they started service with a song and the feeling was good. This church was different than any other I had been in before if only in the fact that they had a band. That was definitely a cool idea!
Then Bro. Bass got up and started talking. He mentioned the devil. He said that a lot of people think that the devil is a red, fork-tailed flying creature "out there" somewhere. I almost jumped out of my chair. Yes! I was wondering about that on the way here! He continued to address and acknowledge everything that I had thought about and wondered about on the way to church that night! It was as if he'd been in the car, listening to my thoughts! It was as if he'd heard our conversation! He laid it all out, and it made sense! My evil thoughts were because of a fallen nature, not because of another creature. I'm the only one with me all the time, other than God. My choices, my thinking, and my lusts all had to carry some responsibility and not just blame this "devil" for everything!
I went home with two great impressions that night. First I was astonished that for the first time in my life, I was actually "nourished" from a church. I felt that I had been added something to. It was the first time I ever felt that I received more in the service than was available of God at home alone! My questions were addressed. My needs were met. It was the first time I'd ever been edified. The second thing was the idea that there may not be a devil. I had to study this out, but this pastor really made sense! And I'd never heard anyone use so many scriptures! He not only declared his doctrine, he used scriptures to prove it. I'd heard many hellfire and brimstone messages where the preacher never used any scripture at all. But this man used his bible the entire time he taught! Scripture after scripture made sense. I'd never seen the word of God used in that way before.
Those were two great impressions, the 3rd impression was the band. I was impressed and blessed by the band. Not only the sound of the music, but the fact that the youth had something to do in the service like that! I immediately wanted to become part of their band and choir!
That Sunday, we were just about "sold" on this new church. Everything was great so far. I loved the spirit that I felt. I loved the band. I loved the fact that I heard the word of God being taught. Mom and dad really seemed to like it as well, but they were still reluctant to put their heart in it. Mom had been hurt many times. She'd been called a devil by the 7th Day Adventists. She'd been asked to leave by another church (she asked too many questions in Sunday School) and she'd been set down from testifying or anything in several other assemblies. We only survived as long as we did in the Assembly of God because mom refrained herself from testifying or asking questions at all. She was welcome to come in and just sit, and pay tithes. Dad rarely attended the Assembly of God church. He couldn't tolerate the hellfire preaching and that was almost all they preached back then. It was usually less than 30 minutes, but it was intolerable for him to listen to. So they came with hope for, but not much faith in, this new church.
So Sunday they decided to speak to the pastor directly and ask him point blank if he believed in hell! We had to know that before we could accept this way. He and his wife had asked us over for dinner so it was the perfect opportunity. I remember my heart sinking when my dad asked "Do you believe in hell?", and Bro. Bass responded "yes". None of us responded but we all must have looked very disappointed because Bro. Bass said "of course you have to understand what hell is". So I said "we're talking about eternal torment, fire and brimstone, you'll burn forever and ever. Do you believe in that hell?" Bro. Bass smiled at me and said "Do you?" I was growing very tired of going around the bush. Either you believe in it or you don't! So I responded "No, we don't believe in it and we won't be going to church anywhere where they do believe in it, so if you don't believe in it and you want us to come here, you better tell us so now!" Bro Bass said "Is that right?" and looked at my dad, who responded "Yeah, that's right". And Bro. Bass finally confessed "No, I don't believe in that kind of eternal torment hell. But the bible speaks of hell and there's more than one way of being in hell. Hell can just be a condition! Jonah was in the belly of hell for 3 days! Imagine the stink and how uncomfortable he was, outside of God's will and stuck in the belly of a fish! He was in hell."
So we communed with Bro. Bass about hell and clarified what we all meant by the word hell, and my family left there thankful that what we heard was true, although we were disappointed and grieved that he didn't openly confess his belief to us from the beginning. We understood later that he was trying to be wise and not filet the fish before it was in the boat, but if we hadn't paused to ask the question a different way, we would have never gone back to that church, believing that they were just another hellfire and brimstone assembly.
We visited the Church in Paragould that Friday night and I took my friend with me. Sitting in service that first time, I was intrigued. This church, mom and dad believed, could be the answer to all our searching. But I knew that God had already begun something in my spirit and in my life. I would be very reluctant to hand that over to just going to a church some where again! So I sat in service with a critical eye. One thing I noticed was that they all looked clean and "churchy". My friend leaned over to me and said "These are just one-ness Pentecostals." I replied "You think so?" She continued "See they all have long hair and no jewelry. That's what they are". I was well aware of what oneness and Pentecostals were, but they were also all about hellfire and brimstone and we were told they didn't preach that here, and if they didn't then this was like no other place that we'd ever been before. But we needed to clarify that and watch and see how things go.
I wasn't opposed to their dress standard. As a matter of fact, I respected it. I remembered in the Assembly of God, one of the pastors that was sent there, had a wife who only wore dresses. I remember at 12 or 13 years old thinking "When I get to be a Christian, I'm going to be like her".
During that first service, my friend was in my ear continually, whispering about the things said and done. It was made clear to me that she didn't like this church and she was a big influence on me as well. She and I left before service was out and that night I returned home for a while.
That night I had a dream. I dreamed that I was standing in one room looking towards another room that was through a doorway. I was about to cross the threshold. Before I crossed I wanted to bring my friend with me so I looked to see where she was and I grabbed her hand and I crossed the threshold, and when I crossed over, our hands split and when I looked back, she was standing in the arms of a man she had just went out on a date with a couple of times. So I knew that where I was going, she would not be coming with me. The next time I talked to her, she accepted to marry that man that I saw her with, standing in his arms.
The next night, I decided to give this church a fresh try again. So this time, I went without my friend and decided to feel it out for myself. While I was waiting on mom and dad to finish getting ready, I was sitting in the living room, and I picked up one of my dad's little booklets that he had just gotten in the mail. It was a Megiddo church booklet. I began reading it. The author was talking about the devil, but almost in a mocking way. "Some people believe that the devil is a red fork-tailed creature with a long fork in his hand". As I was reading, I wasn't sure what his point was. I remember my dad saying "Deb, what do you think about that book?" I said "He sounds like he's saying he doesn't believe in the devil!" Dad replied "He don't!" I said "Oh, I don't believe that" and I tossed the book over on the end table. Dad replied "I don't know. He makes sense. I've never thought of it before the way he brings it out, but I'm going to read it and consider it".
My eyes rolled. Oh my gosh. As if we're not different enough from normal Christians! We don't need yet another crazy doctrine to separate us from churches. I crawled in the back seat of our car and looked out the window as mom drove towards the church. I considered the idea of no devil. But how could there be no devil? What about all the bad things that happened in the world? What about the Enemy, the Opposer of us all, who doesn't want us to be saved? What about that show "The Excorcist"?! There had to be a devil. Maybe he's not red, and maybe he doesn't carry a pitchfork or have a fork-tail, but there has got to be a devil. Otherwise, why do I have the problems that I have?!
All the way to Paragould (about a 30 minute drive) I contemplated this new idea of there not being a devil.
Finally we arrived at the church and they started service with a song and the feeling was good. This church was different than any other I had been in before if only in the fact that they had a band. That was definitely a cool idea!
Then Bro. Bass got up and started talking. He mentioned the devil. He said that a lot of people think that the devil is a red, fork-tailed flying creature "out there" somewhere. I almost jumped out of my chair. Yes! I was wondering about that on the way here! He continued to address and acknowledge everything that I had thought about and wondered about on the way to church that night! It was as if he'd been in the car, listening to my thoughts! It was as if he'd heard our conversation! He laid it all out, and it made sense! My evil thoughts were because of a fallen nature, not because of another creature. I'm the only one with me all the time, other than God. My choices, my thinking, and my lusts all had to carry some responsibility and not just blame this "devil" for everything!
I went home with two great impressions that night. First I was astonished that for the first time in my life, I was actually "nourished" from a church. I felt that I had been added something to. It was the first time I ever felt that I received more in the service than was available of God at home alone! My questions were addressed. My needs were met. It was the first time I'd ever been edified. The second thing was the idea that there may not be a devil. I had to study this out, but this pastor really made sense! And I'd never heard anyone use so many scriptures! He not only declared his doctrine, he used scriptures to prove it. I'd heard many hellfire and brimstone messages where the preacher never used any scripture at all. But this man used his bible the entire time he taught! Scripture after scripture made sense. I'd never seen the word of God used in that way before.
Those were two great impressions, the 3rd impression was the band. I was impressed and blessed by the band. Not only the sound of the music, but the fact that the youth had something to do in the service like that! I immediately wanted to become part of their band and choir!
That Sunday, we were just about "sold" on this new church. Everything was great so far. I loved the spirit that I felt. I loved the band. I loved the fact that I heard the word of God being taught. Mom and dad really seemed to like it as well, but they were still reluctant to put their heart in it. Mom had been hurt many times. She'd been called a devil by the 7th Day Adventists. She'd been asked to leave by another church (she asked too many questions in Sunday School) and she'd been set down from testifying or anything in several other assemblies. We only survived as long as we did in the Assembly of God because mom refrained herself from testifying or asking questions at all. She was welcome to come in and just sit, and pay tithes. Dad rarely attended the Assembly of God church. He couldn't tolerate the hellfire preaching and that was almost all they preached back then. It was usually less than 30 minutes, but it was intolerable for him to listen to. So they came with hope for, but not much faith in, this new church.
So Sunday they decided to speak to the pastor directly and ask him point blank if he believed in hell! We had to know that before we could accept this way. He and his wife had asked us over for dinner so it was the perfect opportunity. I remember my heart sinking when my dad asked "Do you believe in hell?", and Bro. Bass responded "yes". None of us responded but we all must have looked very disappointed because Bro. Bass said "of course you have to understand what hell is". So I said "we're talking about eternal torment, fire and brimstone, you'll burn forever and ever. Do you believe in that hell?" Bro. Bass smiled at me and said "Do you?" I was growing very tired of going around the bush. Either you believe in it or you don't! So I responded "No, we don't believe in it and we won't be going to church anywhere where they do believe in it, so if you don't believe in it and you want us to come here, you better tell us so now!" Bro Bass said "Is that right?" and looked at my dad, who responded "Yeah, that's right". And Bro. Bass finally confessed "No, I don't believe in that kind of eternal torment hell. But the bible speaks of hell and there's more than one way of being in hell. Hell can just be a condition! Jonah was in the belly of hell for 3 days! Imagine the stink and how uncomfortable he was, outside of God's will and stuck in the belly of a fish! He was in hell."
So we communed with Bro. Bass about hell and clarified what we all meant by the word hell, and my family left there thankful that what we heard was true, although we were disappointed and grieved that he didn't openly confess his belief to us from the beginning. We understood later that he was trying to be wise and not filet the fish before it was in the boat, but if we hadn't paused to ask the question a different way, we would have never gone back to that church, believing that they were just another hellfire and brimstone assembly.
Sunday, July 27, 2014
Before the Body of Christ - Chapter 1- written July 2014
I was fortunate. I didn't start out in the Body of Christ. I consider myself fortunate for this because I have an experience that is a footprint in my life and that has convinced me personally that the group of people that I have come to, are indeed the people that God is working through and it is here that I belong. I can't speak for everyone of course, I can only tell those things that I have experienced myself.
I will start from the beginning.
My mom's religion:
My mom was 15 years old, had never really attended school, and was part of the Hell's Angels group in her town where she and some other rebellious teens rode motorcycles and drove cars and kicked up dust in their community trying to show how tough they were. She happened to meet a preacher who was having a revival in her town, who invited her to church and she laughed him to scorn. He then made a dare to her. He dared her to come to every night of the revival and told her that "the Lord said" if she did that, she would get saved. She said "you're crazy!" and she just had to prove this sucker to be as wrong as she knew he was.
She therefore made a point to come to every night of the revival, and brought most of her gang with her. They sat in the back the whole week, mocking and making fun. They laughed and mocked, encouraging one another in their audacity to defy God! To make a long story short, the very last night of the revival, her seat became so hot she couldn't sit in it. She commented to her friend that they must have wired the seats! The pastor didn't even start service, he just called for prayer. All the saints were down on their knees and he was calling on the name of Jesus to bind every evil spirit and to loose the captives! She felt something powerful, but she didn't know what it was. All she knew was that it was fearful.
Finally she decided this hot seat and this weird service was just too much for her, and she got up to leave. But when she got to the middle isle at the end of the pew, she looked towards the exit and saw a big skull with cross bones, so she looked towards the pulpit and she saw a vision of Jesus standing with his arms outstretched, nail prints in his hands offering her salvation. Somehow she knew that he was saying that if she didn't take it, her other option was death. She realized for the first time that she was crying, uncontrollably. She didn't remember ever crying before. She ran to the altar and got saved, and filled with the Holy Ghost that night.
The next morning, she found out that her gang and her boyfriend were involved playing chicken late that same night she was getting saved and nobody chickened out, so they had a head on collision that killed 4 gang members. Her boyfriend, whom she would have been with if she had left the church that night instead of getting saved, was beheaded in the accident.
So my mother was saved, and filled with the Holy Ghost and this was her experience with God. She was an ignorant person, who didn't know how to be a woman of God, but she was a praying powerhouse. She received dreams, and visions and encounters with God. She knew God personally, but she didn't know anything about doctrine and she didn't even know how to read. After her salvation, she got a bible and spent the next few years learning how to read by trying to read it.
She was a praying woman and she had visions and received things from the Lord. I would sit at her feet for hours when I was a small child, listening to the things she received from the Lord. She told me of how God told her that she would be a part of the ministry in the latter days, that she would pray for people and they'd be healed and delivered. God told her that she would have to battle demons, and wade through many swampy waters, and learn to walk on serpents and scorpions. God told her that people needed hope and that she and this group of people in this ministry, would be the hope that God would work through to give them. She also told me that the Lord told her that her last fight would be with darkness before she would see great light. She didn't know what everything God told her meant. Most things were hidden to her understanding, but she would wow me with her stories and her visions and dreams. She also told me that I could be a part of it too, if I prayed and asked the Lord to make me a part, and I prayed earnestly for that many times as a very young child.
My dad's religion:
My dad was severely abused as a boy. He remembered being threatened by his mother and severely beaten by his dad. My dad's mom had a deep Native American heritage, but she hated it and burned all her papers and the one thing that would make her really mad was when grandpa would call her "squaw"! She joined the Pentecostal One-ness church, and she was faithful, but she didn't have a personal relationship with God. She did however, feel free to use the doctrine of hell, fire, and brimstone to threaten my dad and to cast fear upon him. But the hell that my dad was experiencing came not from God, but from his earthly father, who would beat him severely and dad remembered being beaten so severely that he passed out and woke up the next day still laying in his own blood.
Needless to say my dad didn't feel loved as a child. The beatings my dad endured must have developed into epilepsy, because dad had spells constantly and they seemed to be getting worse. He said that he knew when one was coming on, because he would see stars and smell certain smells and then he would have another spell.
When my dad was 12 years old, he heard about William Brahnum and where he was having a revival meeting. They told my dad that this man healed people and that he was a miracle worker. My dad wanted to know if there was a God, and if possible he wanted to be healed of his epilepsy, so at 12 years old he hitchhiked to see this man and see if the healings were real.
Dad said that he saw a lady who went up for prayer for a big tumor on her face. He said that Bro. Brahnum put his hand on it and prayed, and the tumor disappeared instantly! Dad was astonished, but then the lady said "Wow, I just can't believe it!" and the tumor re-appeared! Bro. Brahnum said "Lady, God can't heal you without faith! And he said "I'm going to pray for you again, but you have to have faith! Do you understand?" And she said yes. So he prayed for her again and instantly the tumor disappeared! But again the lady said "I know it's gone, but I just can't believe it!" And again the tumor re-appeared. Dad said this happened again the third time before Bro. Brahnum sent her away and said "I'm sorry, but I can't help you if you can't believe".
Dad said that he witnessed a man who had one leg shorter than the other, get prayed for and his leg stretched out to the same length as the other one! There were many great miracles and healings take place that he saw during this meeting. Finally dad's turn in line came and Br. Brahnum asked him what he wanted prayer for and dad said "Epilepsy" and Bro. Brahnum prayed for him and then told him that if he believed he was healed. So dad believed it and went away happy.
A couple of weeks later, dad went out on his back porch and began to see stars and to smell those smells that he smelled when he was about to have a seizure. Dad sat down on the steps of the porch and put his head in his hands and prayed and said "No. Lord I believe you healed me at that revival with Bro. Brahnum. I believe it Lord! I don't have seizures anymore!" And the stars went away and the smell went away and he never had a seizure again in his life!
Dad began contemplating who God was. God, he thought, was good, not evil! Dad rejected the God of his mother who seemed sadistic and evil. His mother was always threatening him with fear: Fear of his dad, fear of hell, and fear of God's wrath. Dad decided that the God that healed him, wasn't a sadistic, evil god. He was a good God. He was a loving God! He was merciful! People were evil, but God was good!
My dad also left home at 12 years old and started hitchhiking across the country, finding work wherever he could find it. He would approach homes and ask if he could mow their grass or do some odd jobs. He got jobs chopping and picking cotton, or picking fruit or any kind of farm hand work. He often slept in barns or wherever he could find to lay his head. When he was 16, he lied about his age and joined the army. In the army, he and the other men talked about God. Some believed in hellfire and brimstone like his mother, and they argued the doctrine. But the more dad argued with them, the more he searched the scriptures to find out what the truth was. And the more he searched, the more he found that indeed, this concept of eternal hell, where God sits over these horrified souls, laughing while they burn in excruiciating pain and agony, was a myth and not based on bible scriptures at all. My dad began to cultivate the idea of God as "the good Lord", and whenever he spoke of God, he used that phrase. It was as if he were identifying the one that he knew, as opposed to the one that his mother taught him about.
Thus my father was on a personal quest to find God, find truth, and find a people who believed the truth and not the myths. Dad went to a lot of churches and usually mom and I would go with him. He studied doctrine. He ordered books from places I'd never heard of before. He found some truth out there, here and there. He found the Jehovah's Witnesses, who don't believe in eternal hell. But when he attended their services, it seemed more like a Sales Meeting than a church service. I think Mom and I went with him once. Their services were focused on the methods and strategies of going door to door in an attempt to create more Jehovah Witnesses. There was no preaching, no singing, no testimonies. So there wasn't anything edifying to the individual in their meetings. Whatever dad was looking for, it wasn't in the Jehovah's Witnesses.
Then he heard about the 7th Day Adventists. They also didn't believe in an eternal hell. They did believe that Saturday was the Sabbath and my dad was open to receive that. He began attending their services also by himself. But one day a few of them came to our home to visit and they told us that there was no such thing as the Holy Ghost with evidence of speaking in tongues and that if mom had it, then mom was demon possessed! Dad really struggled with that, because not only did my mom have the baptism of the Holy Ghost, but at 12 years old dad had experienced a divine healing in a Holy Ghost meeting from a man who spoke in tongues. And to dad, mom's God was good. Mom didn't use her God as a springboard for manipulating and controlling others. So dad didn't find it in the Seventh Day Adventists.
My religion:
As a family therefore, we didn't go to church anywhere regularly. I remember mom wanting to go somewhere to a church, just so we could sing and praise God. So we'd all go and "endure" the hellfire messages just to get to the music part, so we could praise God. But the music was often dull also. Finally when I was about 10 or 11, I told mom I wanted to go to church like my friends did. So she and dad started taking me to an Assembly of God, so I could get involved in a church with their youth groups and activities.
But as a teenager, I wanted to fit in. I wanted to be normal. I didn't understand why we didn't believe in hell and everybody else did! My friends all believed in it! My extended family believed in it! My new church believed in it! The whole world believed in it! Everybody but us! So I started asking my dad why! And I began searching the scriptures myself, because I had to prove to him and mom that they were wrong and thereby fix all our problems of finding a church! I just figured mom and dad just were never taught the normal things that other people are taught, so I would learn them from others and then I would teach mom and dad and we'd all be fine.
So I started asking everybody around me for their scriptures and what they knew about hell. I was actually surprised to find that while they were adamant about the whole concept of hell, and could draw me a detailed picture of it, but had no scriptures to back up any of these ideas. There was only one scripture that they all referred to which was Lazarus and the rich man, but this story I read over and over again.
Every argument that I had heard on it, I rehearsed with conviction to my dad. I would submit all my findings and my best arguments to him but he was never convinced. He always had a scripture or something to refute the idea. And then I'd take his scriptures back to my friends and, during those years I was arguing both sides of the fence! I wanted the truth. I didn't care who was right or wrong, I just wanted to know what was right.
In my teens, I began to want more than just to be a part of the youth and activities. I began to really want to know God for myself. God loved my mom. He was always telling her things and I could feel the presence of God in the house when she prayed. And my dad had his own unique relationship with God. God, to him, was about truth and justice. But I hadn't really had any experience with God personally yet, only through my parents.
Between the years of 15 and 17, I began dating and going up town with my friends, and we had tried "marijuana" and every now and then we did something fun and edgy like drink a beer or something alcoholic. We were smoking cigarettes and wearing makeup, and without any wisdom or knowledge we began making choices about life and self and goals and beliefs. I believed in God and by now I knew that the doctrine of hell was not correct, but all it did for me was to separate me from all of what I called "normal" Christian churches.
When mom would pray, I felt the presence of God in the house. But when I visited churches, I didn't feel His presence. I was wandering, looking for water (the Spirit of God). I was looking for some kind of "experience" that would indicate to me personally that I had found a place where God would show up. Where does one go to meet with God? I wanted audience with him. I knew he existed, but I couldn't feel His Spirit, and I didn't know what He wanted from me in this life He gave me.
I had also been seeking the Holy Ghost for many years, but I still didn't have it. I went to the altar many times, but I didn't feel anything. I tried so hard to feel something. I remember as a young child, going to the altar, thinking about mom and dad dying so that I could cry and feel something, but that didn't cause me to have any experience with God either. I remember hearing the story of Zacheus. I too, just wanted to get a glimpse of Jesus!
About the Holy Ghost baptism:
One church that I visited began telling me that the Holy Ghost was easy, just start speaking it. They said just say "hoo hoo Honda my tie and see me comma", etcetera and that's it! Well, I knew that wasn't my mom's testimony but I also knew that "my" parents were "special" when it came to the things of God. They didn't believe in hell like normal. They didn't do anything normal. So I went to bed pondering what this church told me about the Holy Ghost and that night in bed I decided to try it. So I prayed "oh, hallelujah, see my tie, here's my tie, comma in a Honda, hallelujah, shickama shickama". I didn't feel anything! I felt completely silly! Inside I felt a giggle working! But I was serious and I prayed, "Lord, I'm trying this because they said it was the Holy Ghost and I don't know, so I'm trying it" and I wanted God to sort of answer me in that or something.
That night I had a dream. I dreamed that it was very hot outside and mom and dad had our sprinklers going in our yard. The water was cool and wonderful. My hair was short, the actual length that it was in real life around my neck, but I was very aware of my hair in my dream, as I played in my yard in the sprinklers. Suddenly I noticed in my dream that our neighbors also had their sprinklers on. Our neighbors were evil and I would never play in their yard or have anything to do with them, but in my dream, I went into their yard to play in their sprinklers and when I did, my hair appeared to be very long and beautiful! I was throwing my hair around and enjoying it's length & beauty as I played, but I knew I ought to be in my own yard, so I went back to my yard and my hair was short again. So I went back and forth for a while, trying to capture my hair length in my own yard, but it wouldn't work. So I awoke, and I knew that God was saying that my hair (my glory) wasn't yet filled with the Holy Ghost. But if I played in the neighbor's yard or after the rules of wickedness, then I could "appear" to have long hair. I could pretend to have the Holy Ghost, but it wasn't the right yard, the right way. I certainly wanted the real thing, so I never did that again. But I was so thankful for this dream and for God showing me, because it also let me know that while I was trying desperately to find him, that He knew right where I was at all the time!
Not long later, I was at the altar in the Assembly of God church seeking for the Holy Ghost, and begging God for it. I stayed there for what seemed like an eternity, but I felt absolutely nothing. I couldn't cry, I couldn't feel anything. Finally I had enough and it came to my mind that God doesn't really love me. He loves my mom and he gave her the Holy Ghost, but He's not giving it to me. Right there at the altar, I decided that I would quit trying for the Holy Ghost. This thought and everything else I am about to describe to you took place in a matter of seconds, although it will take more time to describe it.
My eyes were still closed when I had the though and made the decision to stop seeking for the Holy Ghost and I proceeded to put my arms down, open my eyes, and lean on the altar bench to help myself up from this sitting position, and my brain was giving the command to make these very motions, when suddenly I saw an image of a man sitting on a throne with his hands on the arms of the throne chair and he burst through a cloud as it parted, coming straight towards me! And in my mind I said "WOW!" That was all I said in my mind. "WOW!" And the vision was over.
Immediately after the vision was over, I realized that I had said something and I heard myself say it! It was not English and I did not know what it meant. I had heard this phrase before from a lady in our assembly who spoke in tongues! She said this almost every time she spoke in tongues. The syllables were "Hun-dee-eye-see-kye". I had not "tried" to say that. I was not even aware that I had said that, until after I remembered what I heard myself say! All I thought was "WOW!" but it came out that phrase! I didn't know what to do.
The vision was gone. People around me were rejoicing, because I was seeking for the Holy Ghost and I just spoke in tongues! I felt embarrassed. I was afraid that someone would think that I was copying this sister who I'd heard say that before! I decided years prior that I would not pretend to speak in tongues, so I was perhaps over-sensitive about other thinking that this might be the case. But I knew it was a true experience, and I was flabbergasted by the vision and resulting tongues that came.
After that experience, I relaxed my feeling of need to receive the baptism of the Holy Ghost, confused that I must surely already have it, although I didn't regularly speak in tongues or anything. I didn't speak in tongues again until years later, after that initial experience.
The Turning Point:
The world began to pull on me more and more and I won't go into a lot of that, but I will say that it got to the place that I knew I had to make a decision for the Lord, but not having a church to go to, was a big hindrance for me. Nevertheless, one Wednesday night at the Assembly of God, I very formally went to the altar and gave my life to Christ and made a suitable display/show of purpose to God of my hopes and intentions. I wanted to be saved! I was trying.
The next day I met a friend I hadn't seen in years. She was a Christian. She told me about a revival she was going to be attending starting Sunday. She invited me to come stay with her the week and go to the revival. I felt this must be the Lord for me, so I eagerly said yes. Before the revival, she was supposed to meet a man that called himself a prophet. He said that he had some things to tell her and he wanted to meet with her after church. I prayed during the whole service that this prophet would tell me something. I didn't care what he said, if God would just acknowledge me and let me know that He was there and that these longings I have for God are being received by Him.
Well that night after church, we met that prophet in his home and he prophesied to me that God had chosen me, that I was called, and that I would play the piano and sing and touch many people. He said that I had power in my hands and when he said that, my hands immediately tingled and scared me, and I said "Stop" and it stopped instantly! I don't remember all that he said, but he confirmed things that my mother had told me when I was a young child. And he let me know that He heard me, He was leading me, that He chose me, and He loved me! Just to be chosen, is worth it all!
I went back home that first night and I was elated to tell my mother all that I had received! We went on to the revival and I was on cloud 9 the whole time! I couldn't stop thinking about the prophesies and what God may have in store for me. I still felt nothing in church, but I was hopeful for the first time! After that revival, there was another one somewhere else and my friend and I decided to attend that one as well. I received nothing at either revival, but I was looking for another "experience" or something.
I went home at the end of that week and my friend came with me. It was a Friday and mom and dad were getting dressed for church. Dad had been arguing with a guy at work about the doctrine of hell and the guy said "You sound like that Bill Bass" , and dad said "Who's that?" The man said he's a preacher here in Paragould. He don't believe in hell either! Dad said "Do you know the name and address of the church?" Mom and dad were getting dressed, just about to go check it out. My dad said "The guy said he don't believe in hell, but they do believe in the baptism of the Holy Ghost!" I was intrigued, but Mom and dad were excited! We were about to attend our first service in the Body of Jesus Christ!
I will start from the beginning.
My mom's religion:
My mom was 15 years old, had never really attended school, and was part of the Hell's Angels group in her town where she and some other rebellious teens rode motorcycles and drove cars and kicked up dust in their community trying to show how tough they were. She happened to meet a preacher who was having a revival in her town, who invited her to church and she laughed him to scorn. He then made a dare to her. He dared her to come to every night of the revival and told her that "the Lord said" if she did that, she would get saved. She said "you're crazy!" and she just had to prove this sucker to be as wrong as she knew he was.
She therefore made a point to come to every night of the revival, and brought most of her gang with her. They sat in the back the whole week, mocking and making fun. They laughed and mocked, encouraging one another in their audacity to defy God! To make a long story short, the very last night of the revival, her seat became so hot she couldn't sit in it. She commented to her friend that they must have wired the seats! The pastor didn't even start service, he just called for prayer. All the saints were down on their knees and he was calling on the name of Jesus to bind every evil spirit and to loose the captives! She felt something powerful, but she didn't know what it was. All she knew was that it was fearful.
Finally she decided this hot seat and this weird service was just too much for her, and she got up to leave. But when she got to the middle isle at the end of the pew, she looked towards the exit and saw a big skull with cross bones, so she looked towards the pulpit and she saw a vision of Jesus standing with his arms outstretched, nail prints in his hands offering her salvation. Somehow she knew that he was saying that if she didn't take it, her other option was death. She realized for the first time that she was crying, uncontrollably. She didn't remember ever crying before. She ran to the altar and got saved, and filled with the Holy Ghost that night.
The next morning, she found out that her gang and her boyfriend were involved playing chicken late that same night she was getting saved and nobody chickened out, so they had a head on collision that killed 4 gang members. Her boyfriend, whom she would have been with if she had left the church that night instead of getting saved, was beheaded in the accident.
So my mother was saved, and filled with the Holy Ghost and this was her experience with God. She was an ignorant person, who didn't know how to be a woman of God, but she was a praying powerhouse. She received dreams, and visions and encounters with God. She knew God personally, but she didn't know anything about doctrine and she didn't even know how to read. After her salvation, she got a bible and spent the next few years learning how to read by trying to read it.
She was a praying woman and she had visions and received things from the Lord. I would sit at her feet for hours when I was a small child, listening to the things she received from the Lord. She told me of how God told her that she would be a part of the ministry in the latter days, that she would pray for people and they'd be healed and delivered. God told her that she would have to battle demons, and wade through many swampy waters, and learn to walk on serpents and scorpions. God told her that people needed hope and that she and this group of people in this ministry, would be the hope that God would work through to give them. She also told me that the Lord told her that her last fight would be with darkness before she would see great light. She didn't know what everything God told her meant. Most things were hidden to her understanding, but she would wow me with her stories and her visions and dreams. She also told me that I could be a part of it too, if I prayed and asked the Lord to make me a part, and I prayed earnestly for that many times as a very young child.
My dad's religion:
My dad was severely abused as a boy. He remembered being threatened by his mother and severely beaten by his dad. My dad's mom had a deep Native American heritage, but she hated it and burned all her papers and the one thing that would make her really mad was when grandpa would call her "squaw"! She joined the Pentecostal One-ness church, and she was faithful, but she didn't have a personal relationship with God. She did however, feel free to use the doctrine of hell, fire, and brimstone to threaten my dad and to cast fear upon him. But the hell that my dad was experiencing came not from God, but from his earthly father, who would beat him severely and dad remembered being beaten so severely that he passed out and woke up the next day still laying in his own blood.
Needless to say my dad didn't feel loved as a child. The beatings my dad endured must have developed into epilepsy, because dad had spells constantly and they seemed to be getting worse. He said that he knew when one was coming on, because he would see stars and smell certain smells and then he would have another spell.
When my dad was 12 years old, he heard about William Brahnum and where he was having a revival meeting. They told my dad that this man healed people and that he was a miracle worker. My dad wanted to know if there was a God, and if possible he wanted to be healed of his epilepsy, so at 12 years old he hitchhiked to see this man and see if the healings were real.
Dad said that he saw a lady who went up for prayer for a big tumor on her face. He said that Bro. Brahnum put his hand on it and prayed, and the tumor disappeared instantly! Dad was astonished, but then the lady said "Wow, I just can't believe it!" and the tumor re-appeared! Bro. Brahnum said "Lady, God can't heal you without faith! And he said "I'm going to pray for you again, but you have to have faith! Do you understand?" And she said yes. So he prayed for her again and instantly the tumor disappeared! But again the lady said "I know it's gone, but I just can't believe it!" And again the tumor re-appeared. Dad said this happened again the third time before Bro. Brahnum sent her away and said "I'm sorry, but I can't help you if you can't believe".
Dad said that he witnessed a man who had one leg shorter than the other, get prayed for and his leg stretched out to the same length as the other one! There were many great miracles and healings take place that he saw during this meeting. Finally dad's turn in line came and Br. Brahnum asked him what he wanted prayer for and dad said "Epilepsy" and Bro. Brahnum prayed for him and then told him that if he believed he was healed. So dad believed it and went away happy.
A couple of weeks later, dad went out on his back porch and began to see stars and to smell those smells that he smelled when he was about to have a seizure. Dad sat down on the steps of the porch and put his head in his hands and prayed and said "No. Lord I believe you healed me at that revival with Bro. Brahnum. I believe it Lord! I don't have seizures anymore!" And the stars went away and the smell went away and he never had a seizure again in his life!
Dad began contemplating who God was. God, he thought, was good, not evil! Dad rejected the God of his mother who seemed sadistic and evil. His mother was always threatening him with fear: Fear of his dad, fear of hell, and fear of God's wrath. Dad decided that the God that healed him, wasn't a sadistic, evil god. He was a good God. He was a loving God! He was merciful! People were evil, but God was good!
My dad also left home at 12 years old and started hitchhiking across the country, finding work wherever he could find it. He would approach homes and ask if he could mow their grass or do some odd jobs. He got jobs chopping and picking cotton, or picking fruit or any kind of farm hand work. He often slept in barns or wherever he could find to lay his head. When he was 16, he lied about his age and joined the army. In the army, he and the other men talked about God. Some believed in hellfire and brimstone like his mother, and they argued the doctrine. But the more dad argued with them, the more he searched the scriptures to find out what the truth was. And the more he searched, the more he found that indeed, this concept of eternal hell, where God sits over these horrified souls, laughing while they burn in excruiciating pain and agony, was a myth and not based on bible scriptures at all. My dad began to cultivate the idea of God as "the good Lord", and whenever he spoke of God, he used that phrase. It was as if he were identifying the one that he knew, as opposed to the one that his mother taught him about.
Thus my father was on a personal quest to find God, find truth, and find a people who believed the truth and not the myths. Dad went to a lot of churches and usually mom and I would go with him. He studied doctrine. He ordered books from places I'd never heard of before. He found some truth out there, here and there. He found the Jehovah's Witnesses, who don't believe in eternal hell. But when he attended their services, it seemed more like a Sales Meeting than a church service. I think Mom and I went with him once. Their services were focused on the methods and strategies of going door to door in an attempt to create more Jehovah Witnesses. There was no preaching, no singing, no testimonies. So there wasn't anything edifying to the individual in their meetings. Whatever dad was looking for, it wasn't in the Jehovah's Witnesses.
Then he heard about the 7th Day Adventists. They also didn't believe in an eternal hell. They did believe that Saturday was the Sabbath and my dad was open to receive that. He began attending their services also by himself. But one day a few of them came to our home to visit and they told us that there was no such thing as the Holy Ghost with evidence of speaking in tongues and that if mom had it, then mom was demon possessed! Dad really struggled with that, because not only did my mom have the baptism of the Holy Ghost, but at 12 years old dad had experienced a divine healing in a Holy Ghost meeting from a man who spoke in tongues. And to dad, mom's God was good. Mom didn't use her God as a springboard for manipulating and controlling others. So dad didn't find it in the Seventh Day Adventists.
My religion:
As a family therefore, we didn't go to church anywhere regularly. I remember mom wanting to go somewhere to a church, just so we could sing and praise God. So we'd all go and "endure" the hellfire messages just to get to the music part, so we could praise God. But the music was often dull also. Finally when I was about 10 or 11, I told mom I wanted to go to church like my friends did. So she and dad started taking me to an Assembly of God, so I could get involved in a church with their youth groups and activities.
But as a teenager, I wanted to fit in. I wanted to be normal. I didn't understand why we didn't believe in hell and everybody else did! My friends all believed in it! My extended family believed in it! My new church believed in it! The whole world believed in it! Everybody but us! So I started asking my dad why! And I began searching the scriptures myself, because I had to prove to him and mom that they were wrong and thereby fix all our problems of finding a church! I just figured mom and dad just were never taught the normal things that other people are taught, so I would learn them from others and then I would teach mom and dad and we'd all be fine.
So I started asking everybody around me for their scriptures and what they knew about hell. I was actually surprised to find that while they were adamant about the whole concept of hell, and could draw me a detailed picture of it, but had no scriptures to back up any of these ideas. There was only one scripture that they all referred to which was Lazarus and the rich man, but this story I read over and over again.
Every argument that I had heard on it, I rehearsed with conviction to my dad. I would submit all my findings and my best arguments to him but he was never convinced. He always had a scripture or something to refute the idea. And then I'd take his scriptures back to my friends and, during those years I was arguing both sides of the fence! I wanted the truth. I didn't care who was right or wrong, I just wanted to know what was right.
In my teens, I began to want more than just to be a part of the youth and activities. I began to really want to know God for myself. God loved my mom. He was always telling her things and I could feel the presence of God in the house when she prayed. And my dad had his own unique relationship with God. God, to him, was about truth and justice. But I hadn't really had any experience with God personally yet, only through my parents.
Between the years of 15 and 17, I began dating and going up town with my friends, and we had tried "marijuana" and every now and then we did something fun and edgy like drink a beer or something alcoholic. We were smoking cigarettes and wearing makeup, and without any wisdom or knowledge we began making choices about life and self and goals and beliefs. I believed in God and by now I knew that the doctrine of hell was not correct, but all it did for me was to separate me from all of what I called "normal" Christian churches.
When mom would pray, I felt the presence of God in the house. But when I visited churches, I didn't feel His presence. I was wandering, looking for water (the Spirit of God). I was looking for some kind of "experience" that would indicate to me personally that I had found a place where God would show up. Where does one go to meet with God? I wanted audience with him. I knew he existed, but I couldn't feel His Spirit, and I didn't know what He wanted from me in this life He gave me.
I had also been seeking the Holy Ghost for many years, but I still didn't have it. I went to the altar many times, but I didn't feel anything. I tried so hard to feel something. I remember as a young child, going to the altar, thinking about mom and dad dying so that I could cry and feel something, but that didn't cause me to have any experience with God either. I remember hearing the story of Zacheus. I too, just wanted to get a glimpse of Jesus!
About the Holy Ghost baptism:
One church that I visited began telling me that the Holy Ghost was easy, just start speaking it. They said just say "hoo hoo Honda my tie and see me comma", etcetera and that's it! Well, I knew that wasn't my mom's testimony but I also knew that "my" parents were "special" when it came to the things of God. They didn't believe in hell like normal. They didn't do anything normal. So I went to bed pondering what this church told me about the Holy Ghost and that night in bed I decided to try it. So I prayed "oh, hallelujah, see my tie, here's my tie, comma in a Honda, hallelujah, shickama shickama". I didn't feel anything! I felt completely silly! Inside I felt a giggle working! But I was serious and I prayed, "Lord, I'm trying this because they said it was the Holy Ghost and I don't know, so I'm trying it" and I wanted God to sort of answer me in that or something.
That night I had a dream. I dreamed that it was very hot outside and mom and dad had our sprinklers going in our yard. The water was cool and wonderful. My hair was short, the actual length that it was in real life around my neck, but I was very aware of my hair in my dream, as I played in my yard in the sprinklers. Suddenly I noticed in my dream that our neighbors also had their sprinklers on. Our neighbors were evil and I would never play in their yard or have anything to do with them, but in my dream, I went into their yard to play in their sprinklers and when I did, my hair appeared to be very long and beautiful! I was throwing my hair around and enjoying it's length & beauty as I played, but I knew I ought to be in my own yard, so I went back to my yard and my hair was short again. So I went back and forth for a while, trying to capture my hair length in my own yard, but it wouldn't work. So I awoke, and I knew that God was saying that my hair (my glory) wasn't yet filled with the Holy Ghost. But if I played in the neighbor's yard or after the rules of wickedness, then I could "appear" to have long hair. I could pretend to have the Holy Ghost, but it wasn't the right yard, the right way. I certainly wanted the real thing, so I never did that again. But I was so thankful for this dream and for God showing me, because it also let me know that while I was trying desperately to find him, that He knew right where I was at all the time!
Not long later, I was at the altar in the Assembly of God church seeking for the Holy Ghost, and begging God for it. I stayed there for what seemed like an eternity, but I felt absolutely nothing. I couldn't cry, I couldn't feel anything. Finally I had enough and it came to my mind that God doesn't really love me. He loves my mom and he gave her the Holy Ghost, but He's not giving it to me. Right there at the altar, I decided that I would quit trying for the Holy Ghost. This thought and everything else I am about to describe to you took place in a matter of seconds, although it will take more time to describe it.
My eyes were still closed when I had the though and made the decision to stop seeking for the Holy Ghost and I proceeded to put my arms down, open my eyes, and lean on the altar bench to help myself up from this sitting position, and my brain was giving the command to make these very motions, when suddenly I saw an image of a man sitting on a throne with his hands on the arms of the throne chair and he burst through a cloud as it parted, coming straight towards me! And in my mind I said "WOW!" That was all I said in my mind. "WOW!" And the vision was over.
Immediately after the vision was over, I realized that I had said something and I heard myself say it! It was not English and I did not know what it meant. I had heard this phrase before from a lady in our assembly who spoke in tongues! She said this almost every time she spoke in tongues. The syllables were "Hun-dee-eye-see-kye". I had not "tried" to say that. I was not even aware that I had said that, until after I remembered what I heard myself say! All I thought was "WOW!" but it came out that phrase! I didn't know what to do.
The vision was gone. People around me were rejoicing, because I was seeking for the Holy Ghost and I just spoke in tongues! I felt embarrassed. I was afraid that someone would think that I was copying this sister who I'd heard say that before! I decided years prior that I would not pretend to speak in tongues, so I was perhaps over-sensitive about other thinking that this might be the case. But I knew it was a true experience, and I was flabbergasted by the vision and resulting tongues that came.
After that experience, I relaxed my feeling of need to receive the baptism of the Holy Ghost, confused that I must surely already have it, although I didn't regularly speak in tongues or anything. I didn't speak in tongues again until years later, after that initial experience.
The Turning Point:
The world began to pull on me more and more and I won't go into a lot of that, but I will say that it got to the place that I knew I had to make a decision for the Lord, but not having a church to go to, was a big hindrance for me. Nevertheless, one Wednesday night at the Assembly of God, I very formally went to the altar and gave my life to Christ and made a suitable display/show of purpose to God of my hopes and intentions. I wanted to be saved! I was trying.
The next day I met a friend I hadn't seen in years. She was a Christian. She told me about a revival she was going to be attending starting Sunday. She invited me to come stay with her the week and go to the revival. I felt this must be the Lord for me, so I eagerly said yes. Before the revival, she was supposed to meet a man that called himself a prophet. He said that he had some things to tell her and he wanted to meet with her after church. I prayed during the whole service that this prophet would tell me something. I didn't care what he said, if God would just acknowledge me and let me know that He was there and that these longings I have for God are being received by Him.
Well that night after church, we met that prophet in his home and he prophesied to me that God had chosen me, that I was called, and that I would play the piano and sing and touch many people. He said that I had power in my hands and when he said that, my hands immediately tingled and scared me, and I said "Stop" and it stopped instantly! I don't remember all that he said, but he confirmed things that my mother had told me when I was a young child. And he let me know that He heard me, He was leading me, that He chose me, and He loved me! Just to be chosen, is worth it all!
I went back home that first night and I was elated to tell my mother all that I had received! We went on to the revival and I was on cloud 9 the whole time! I couldn't stop thinking about the prophesies and what God may have in store for me. I still felt nothing in church, but I was hopeful for the first time! After that revival, there was another one somewhere else and my friend and I decided to attend that one as well. I received nothing at either revival, but I was looking for another "experience" or something.
I went home at the end of that week and my friend came with me. It was a Friday and mom and dad were getting dressed for church. Dad had been arguing with a guy at work about the doctrine of hell and the guy said "You sound like that Bill Bass" , and dad said "Who's that?" The man said he's a preacher here in Paragould. He don't believe in hell either! Dad said "Do you know the name and address of the church?" Mom and dad were getting dressed, just about to go check it out. My dad said "The guy said he don't believe in hell, but they do believe in the baptism of the Holy Ghost!" I was intrigued, but Mom and dad were excited! We were about to attend our first service in the Body of Jesus Christ!
Friday, July 25, 2014
About me & this Blog- Introduction - written July 2014
Christian Overcoming:
Introduction - About me and this new Blog
Introduction - About me and this new Blog
Every day I am overcoming. As my mindset is changed through the word of God and prayer, I am walking in more and more victory. The lessons that I'm learning are valuable, for me if no one else. I am reminded of them constantly and it benefits me to go back from time to time, and rehearse the way that God has led me. He is leading me out of my darkness into more and more of His light.
This blog is to share some of the things I've received from the Lord, that to me were awesome at the time I received them because these things were outside of my own understanding. These things I received were higher than my thinking. Therefore I knew that they certainly came from God.
They may not seem either high or deep to you, but that's alright. We are all on different levels. You may have advanced further than I have in some or all areas and if so then my ignorance may seem incredibly ignorant or naive. But if you've been there, then perhaps you can concur.
I praise God for every time He has corrected me, and chastened me, and taught me things contrary to my own ways of thinking. He has had to overcome me, and my stubborn, opinionated thinking in order to bless me.
For example, when I first got saved and found the body of Christ, I was completely clueless and ignorant of the fact that God has an order! I was 16 years old and had just got saved. I just started reading my bible and I was amazed at how much knowledge and understanding I was getting out of it. I began attending a church. When I look back at my mindset then, I realize that I did not understand that God brought me there to be "taught". At the time, I saw everyone as being sort of fellow teachers of God-experiences and expected that all of us may have more or less to share based on our varying degrees of zeal and understanding. This is true of course of the general church in regards to testimonies, but this does not encompass the whole of God's kingdom.
Furthermore, I graded myself as having a fairly high degree of God-experience, perhaps the highest in the church. I didn't know what they were receiving from God, but I knew that I had had an awesome, incredible, life-changing, electrifying, encounter with God! And that was also true. I was sincere in my love for God, my love for the truth, and my willingness to be used by God in whatever capacity He chose to use me.
I have always been one who loves to discuss. I love it when I know enough about whatever you would like to talk about, that I can "discuss" it with you. And it's especially fun if one of us takes one side of the issue and the other takes the other and we see who has the most knowledge, who can come up with the best argument, and who can outlast the other in the discussion. It doesn't matter who wins or loses, it's whether we learned anything, or had any fun, in the process.
Imagine me going to Sunday School.
God brought me to the Body of Christ, where they believe in allowing for questions to any teaching or preaching. The idea is that anyone who doesn't understand, can get clarification and gain an understanding.
Not long after I began attending, I noticed that questions were allowed! But I was disappointed that the people didn't seem to take advantage of it very well, so it was my first priority to find questions that I could ask to create a discussion that I could participate in.
It is a lot more fun & entertaining to participate in a debate than it is to simply sit and listen! So I would subconsciously look for a place to jump in and turn every boring lecture into a fun debate! I was working for the good of the church, since they didn't seem to know how to do it. I didn't necessarily like my job though. I really wanted the people to learn from me and become more involved, but I decided to practice patience with them, and continue to operate in this manner despite the fact that it seemed like the more I tried, the less they made any effort at all!
I will never forget during one of these discussions, my first pastor asked me a question that about blew my mind. He said "Who's the pastor here anyway, you or me?!" That question floored me! It had absolutely nothing to do with the subject we were debating at the time! It was completely and utterly irrelevant to our debate. I responded "What does that have to do with anything?!" I only thought "What an odd, and completely rude thing to say! And he said it in the middle of a wonderful, juicy, hot-off-the-press debate too!"
So you see I came into Church without any knowledge whatsoever of the order of God and I also did not understand what having respect or reverence for my elders was. If you'd have asked me at the time if it was disrespectful to debate with the pastor, over the pulpit about doctrine or church policy, I'd have given you 10 reasons why it would be more respectful to do so than not to do so.
I did not understand "respect" or how that applied to others. I only knew what I wanted when I used the word respect. I wanted love and acceptance. I wanted others to say my name correctly, and not say it with such disdain or ugliness that it seemed in their mouth like profanity. I wanted to be included in fun activities, and smiled at. I wanted friendship. And so in my mind, I gave respect. I gave it abundantly. I just didn't know that what I freely gave, wasn't "respect" and it wasn't what they were looking for from me.
When I first entered the job market, I saw the words on an application "able to work without Supervision" and I thought how ludicrous it was to say that, when nobody surely wanted the supervisor to stand over them all day! I didn't understand. Yes, I was dumb as a hammer and ONLY GOD has been the source that has given this hammerhead understanding to help me be less of a complete fool than I was destined to become without His intervention in my life! So one must not only hear the words of order, but they must come to understand the definition, the interpretation of it.
I'll never forget the time my pastor told me that he didn't want to hear all the words that came into my head! What a revolutionary idea that was to me at the time! I remember "getting it" like Helen Keller comprehending that the signed letter her teacher was putting in her hand corresponded to the water running on her other hand! She had to pause and let that thought process! She had to go out and see what else it applied to! I remember looking at him, staring at his face muscles, which were tensing at the time, as this idea processed in my mind! I was in the process of downloading a completely new operating system, and he had no idea. I went out of that office with a completely new pathway having been paved in my understanding! I didn't have to say everything that came into my head. I realized for the first time that I wasn't supposed to! Much later on, it occurred to me that other people must have things in their head that they don't say! That lesson further developed in later years into realizing that I don't have to 'go with' every feeling I feel either! But I'm getting ahead of myself.
I lacked fundamental wisdom that prevented me from even grasping the concept of order, nor how to properly respect God's chosen ministry.
I didn't realize that if I believed that God called him to be a pastor, that I should also trust him to do the job of pastoring. I did not understand that if God called a man to lead, that He gave that man the map, the directions, where to go and how to get there. I knew that we were going somewhere, and although I had no clue where we were going, I was sure that I knew which way to go and how to get there. Well of course now I am 50 years old and I can do nothing but laugh at how ludicrously ignorant I was. To think that God would call a grown man to pastor a church and then send a 16 year old girl who doesn't know anything, to tell him which way we ought to go. (If you're shaking your head at how ludicrous that is, you should be). But I didn't understand any of that at the time.
Furthermore, I had no idea that when I was asking questions and debating with the pastor that people in the assembly interpreted what they saw and heard as being that Sis. Debbie is opposing the ministry! I would have been appalled! In my own mind, I was engaging and participating in higher thinking and godly debate. I was doing what I believed everybody ought to do: participate! I was completely unaware of the fact that God wasn't in it! But one thing I was not unaware of: I knew that the people didn't like it. But I thought the people didn't understand how to participate or how to engage in discussion about the word of God.
And I was completely unaware of the way it looked to others. I was completely unaware that I was developing a reputation as one who was out of order; unbelieving; controversial; "will say anything"; and one who opposes the Ministry. Because people can't see our heart or our intentions. They can only see what we do and hear what we speak and they judge our heart and intentions by comparing what they know or believe about respect or honor or order, to what we are saying or doing.
And at that time I did not understand how the church is a unit, a Body. I saw myself and everyone else as individuals. If I did something ugly, I did not see how it would reflect anything on the church. I did not see that we were a team. In my head, I was playing solo while others on the field were also playing solo.
All these lessons are the basic framework through which God began to put in a window to let light come into the darkness of my ignorance.
In my own position and calling, I experienced much pain and rejection, and was shocked to discover that after years of service and being led divinely by God, that people could fail to see how God used me! The fact that the church was blessed through my music, didn't prove it to them. The fact that my chorus inspired the theme of the whole service, didn't indicate it to them!
I was shocked and hurt! For years I'd been praying and seeking God; dedicating; sacrificing; and staying in devotions in order to receive direction from God in the services for a song and some had the audacity to think that I was just doing my own thing, and singing whatever songs that I felt like in my own natural, carnal mind?! They couldn't see that God, who called me in the first place, had given me a certain wisdom, and the tools necessary to do the job?!
But seeing how that others failed to recognize God working through me, and the fact that He who called me equipped me with the necessary tools, helped me to recognize that if I was being led by God in my calling & had tools that others didn't recognize who didn't have that position and gift, then surely the pastor and others in positions were being led divinely & given special tools and abilities in their calling as well. That paved another entrance through which God could bring more light! These were hard lessons that hurt. But the blueness of the wound cleanses away evil.
God's church isn't to be run in chaos. God sets everything in order. He wants everything in it's place. It's like the President's Cabinet. The Secretary of Education shouldn't be telling the Secretary of Defense how to plan his strategies! Each member has a place. This is part of order. I've had to learn to stay in my lane. I used to think I could just drive all over the place, whatever I thought I understood, I could do. If the ark seemed shaky, I'll reach out there and steady it! If it's out of order, I'll line it back up! If it's questionable, I'll check into it! If it's broke, I'll fix it!
I'm assuming that you're probably reading this and saying "Oh my!" Yes "oh my!" indeed! I was a mess! I didn't even know that I was in everybody else's business because I thought everything was my business! From correcting the children to correcting the pastor, I was sure I knew what everyone ought to do!
The dictionary definition of darkness is:
The absence of light. Difficult to comprehend. Unenlightened. Ignorant. Wicked. Sinister. In a state of ignorance.
God had to do a lot of work on me to get me to where I am today. These lessons I've mentioned are just the beginnings of my journey. I'm not yet arrived where I'm headed, but I'm sure not back where I began! I've come a long way and I know the ride isn't over yet, but I'm so thankful to see the light that I see! It's a horrible thing to experience hell over and over and not understand what you are doing to cause the problem! Constantly in condemnation and don't even understand what to repent of!
I'm so thankful for all I've learned and I want to learn to come up to the full measure and stature of Christ, to be no more a spoiled child, but understanding. I want to be a pillar in the church, not just think I am. I don't want to just step on the gas and see the RPM's go up, but I want to be making actual headway going in the right direction, towards obtaining the High Calling in Christ. The army says "Be all you can be". I don't want to be a retarded, slow, low functioning Christian!
This blog is about how God led me and what He taught me. I will be sharing some of the specific lessons God has given me over the years as He is bringing me into more order and transforming me into a vessel that He can actually use in his kingdom.
I hope that God blesses and encourages you through every line.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)