This is the place where you'll find everything I know about operating in the prophetic. It isn't always pretty but it is 100% genuine. Here you'll find my stumbles, my tears, my triumphs, and my frustrations. I can't say I've enjoyed every step of the way but I wouldn't trade it for anything. When you need encouragement because you are stumbling yourself, or maybe you'd just like to learn from my mistakes, pull up a chair and browse through my years of struggling in the prophetic. I've written it all hoping it might help someone else some day. If it helps you, please let me know. I love your feedback. ` Mia
I've had several occasions where I've dreamed something and it's come true. On rarer occasions, I've known things that I couldn't possibly know without someone telling me but I knew them anyway. I've had very strange things happen to me that I thought happened to everyone but maybe not.
I took a dream course and decided to start writing down my dreams.
I took my cup to the soda fountain, stuck the cup under the spout and pushed the lever. Nothing. I stuck my cup under the dispensers for the other flavors, nothing. I tried the machine right next to the first; and, nothing. No soda in either machine.”
BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.
I rolled over and hit the alarm. Squinting at the clock, I mentally calculated that I had at least another seven and a half minutes before I really had to get out of bed. I had to go to Wal-mart and be back before my I lost my nerve.
What a weird dream, I thought, as I reached for my pad and pen and began scribbling in my brand new dream journal. It was so normal. Not like my usual dreams which are just jumbled bits of craziness. This dream was so real and normal. I wondered what it meant. Maybe it means that I need to be filled with the Holy Spirit, I confided to my journal before snapping it shut.
I had just started writing down my dreams because I was seeking God to overcome agoraphobia and He suddenly began giving me dreams like this. Agoraphobia, my shrink told me, is when a person is afraid of going anywhere because they are afraid they will have a panic attack. I tried explaining to her that
I wasn’t afraid of having a panic attack, I was afraid of dying.
Semantics, she tells me.
Obviously this therapy wasn't working so I was seeking to hear from God because I didn’t want to leave my house - ever. Getting run over by a sleeping driver has a way of making one aware of their mortality. I was now acutely aware of my mortality and trying to remain a mortal as long as possible – by avoiding death. And I did that by not getting into another car again, whenever possible, and so far it was possible every day.
My strategy was flawed however, because if I didn’t leave I couldn’t work, if I didn’t work I couldn’t eat, and if I couldn’t eat I would eventually die; albeit not in terror, as I imagined I would if I were hit by another car. So, I decided by reason that I had to overcome my fear of imminent death.
The plan was to pray every morning and then to wait to hear from God as to whether or not it was safe to leave my house. Then, I was going to go on manageable (short) trips, close by, as often as possible. I could handle this part, if I stayed on streets with a 30 mph speed limit and drove at my own speed. Today I was going to Wally-world to get some groceries.
My outing went smoothly. I made it to Wal-mart without incident, unless you considered all the cars honking from behind me, an incident. I actually enjoyed myself once out of the car and in the store. I felt free. At that moment, I was probably the happiest Wal-mart shopper in the world. The sun was shining, I made it safely to Wal-mart, and I was shopping. What’s not to love?
Riding my moment of glory, I decided to go all out and take advantage of the McDonald’s food court while I was there. I hadn’t been to McDonald’s for a long time and the thought of a Big Mac was making me drool. After exchanging pleasantries with the cheerful cashier, I paid for my meal, took my cup to the drink area, and read the signs taped to the front of both drink machines.
Out of Order.
I couldn’t get a drink out of either machine.
I stood slack-jawed staring at the machines. It was exactly what happened in my dream the night before last. I could not fill my cup. This is what my cup-filling dream meant; It meant that I would not be able to get a drink of Diet Coke at McDonald’s.
I thought my dream had meant that something was preventing my spiritual cup from being filled, at least that’s what the dream book and the dream interpreters told me. Did I seriously just dream about what I was going to do today, last night!?!?!
I was amazed. Flabbergasted even.
The next day, I woke up and wrote down two dreams. One about picture frames the other about my husband reformatting the computer. After getting my coffee, I found my husband in the office.
Sitting down across from Him, I said, “I just dreamt that you reformatted the hard drive on the computer.”
“Yep. Just finished”, He nodded and said.
Somehow managing to simultaneously have raised eyebrows and bugged out eyes, I asked, “Were you planning to do something with picture frames?”
“Yeah. How'd you guess? I'm going to go buy some in a minute to hang my Army achievements in”, he said with a cheeky grin, “I figured the office would be beautified by all of my accomplishments."
Holy cow. This is getting weird.
I believed in hearing from God through dreams but I assumed I would get spiritual messages, like: My cup needed filling. At no point did I think that I would be seeing things happen in my dreams before they happened in real life, and on a daily basis to boot!
Nobody is going to believe this, I thought.
Heck, it’s happening to me and even I don’t believe it.
It all started happening when I started fasting a week before. Since then, everyday I had dreams and then everyday simple things were happening exactly like my dreams.
I started the fast because I was determined that I was going to hear from God. I thought that if I gave God a chance to warn me about impending disaster He would - because He is a good God. I knew that with His help I could overcome this paralyzing fear and I trusted that if I were close enough to hear from Him, and presented myself daily to hear from Him, that He wouldn't let anything bad happen to me.
I was at the point of being sick and tired of living in fear and I began the fast after I emembered the story of a man who was in an airport.
The story went like this:
I was in Denver, Colorado, once waiting for a plane after preaching. I had just been to Montana, where I had preached at a college in Missoula. After that I flew to Salt Lake City, and from Salt Lake, I flew to Denver. Now I was headed to Dallas and then New Orleans.
I didn't want to go to all those places. I just wanted to go home to New Orleans. But where the Lord calls you to go, you've got to go. So I said, "Okay, Lord, I'll do it." I took the trip and was in Denver, where I was waiting for another plane to take me home. I hadn't been home in a while, and I couldn't wait to get there. I was just ready.
Well, I was standing in the Denver airport waiting for them to start boarding, and I started praising God. I was standing there, and I said to myself, Boy, it's fun being saved. Father, I just thank You. Faith cometh by hearing and hearing by the Word of God. I hear Your Word. I read Your Word. I flow in Your anointing.
Just then the Lord said, "I don't want you to get on that plane."
I said, "What?"
"There will be trouble on this plane, He said. Don't get on it."
"Trouble?" I asked.
"Don't get on the plane, He said again. Take the next flight."
"Huh," I said. "But - but, Lord, I - I'd just kind of like to go home, you know."
"Don't get on the plane," He said, just as simply as that.
So I went over to the lady at the check-in counter and asked, "When is the next flight to Dallas?"
"Nine hours from now," she said.
When I heard her say that, I told God I didn't want to stay in the airport for nine hours.
God said, "You can preach for nine hours. There are a lot of sinners here. You can let your light shine. Don't get on this plane. There's damage to come."
"Man, God," I said, "can't You just 'heal' it? At least until I get off the plane. You know, just fix it, huh?"
"Don't," He said. "I'm telling you. Don't get on that plane."
After I heard that, I had to adjust myself to staying in the airport, and I was about halfway ready when God said, Now, I want you to go tell that ticket agent there are problems on this plane. Tell them not to load this plane and take off.
"God," I said, "they're not going to listen! They're going to think I'm a fruitcake if I go up there and tell them that!"
I could see myself, saying, Excuse me, but God told me for you all not to load this plane. You know, that sounds kind of crazy. But when you know the voice of God, you've got to do what He says. I still fought it for a few minutes before I did anything.
It was getting close to the departure time, so I knew I had to do something. I decided to walk back up to the desk and tell the lady I would take the next flight. As I got up close to the desk, I saw a guy smoking a big cigar that he'd been chewing on. It was kind of gross the way he did it. This man was sitting close to the desk, so he could hear my conversation.
I walked up really close to where he was sitting and said, "Ma'am, ah, I'm going to take the next flight out of here. Ah, I want to leave, but the Lord told me there's going to be some damage to this plane. So you might want to get another one. Don't fly this plane."
She looked at me and said, "Who told you?
"The Lord," I said.
"The Lord who?"
"The Lord, God - Jesus," I said.
And she went, "Oh. Heh, heh, heh." She didn't believe what I was telling her.
"Lady, listen to what I'm saying," I said. "If this plane takes off, we've got problems. I'm a man of the Lord. I know you think I'm a fruitcake. I know it sounds nuts, but don't fly this plane."
"Well," she said, "we're about ready to board." She picked up the loudspeaker and called out the boarding. People started getting up to get on the plane, and the man with the cigar came over and went, "Whooof!"
I felt so stupid.
God said, You told them. That's all I asked you to do.
Yeah, I told them, but they were looking at me like I was crazy. Some of the people had heard me and began to stare at me as they walked past while loading the plane. The lady asked me, "Mister, are you getting on this plane?"
"Don't let that plane leave this gate," I told her. "I'm telling you, God said it. I want to go home more than anybody! I don't want to stay here nine hours. There's something wrong with this plane."
"There's nothing wrong with the plane, sir," she said. "Are you going to get on the plane, or are you going to stay here? Because if you stay, we're going to put you on standby. You may not make that flight nine hours from now either."
"No," I said, "I'm not getting on that plane."
"Fine," she said and closed the gate. Boom!
I was standing there, feeling like an idiot. I was outside the gate, and the devil started in on me: Bozo brain. Fool. You idiot.
I joined in with him: Boy, you're right. Huh, yeah. You're an idiot, man.
I sat there and watched as they pushed that plane to the runway. They fired up the engines - "zzzzzZZZZZZ." I watched it, bless God. And they got all ready to taxi down the runway. Sure enough, the engines were running - you could hear them go, "srrrrrrRRRRRRRR." The pilot throttled it a little bit to start taxing like he was supposed to, and he went maybe 25 feet before the back end of the plane just blew up. The engine on the back of the plane just blew out black smoke. Something just went, "booo-dooom!"
"Oh-hooo! Ahhhhh, yeah!" I shouted. I couldn't help it. I said, "Ha, ha, ha, look there. It's not working!"
Smoke went all over the place, man, and people came flying down that emergency chute so fast. They were out of there! I was sitting there going, "Ha, ha, ha." I was just enjoying myself. The plane almost blew up, and I was celebrating.
Finally, they got all those people off the plane and headed back to the terminal. The people started coming back inside, and when that old boy with the cigar walked past, I just looked at him and smiled.
Within two hours, they had another plane ready to fly to Dallas. And just as they started boarding, that old guy with the cigar walked up and said, "Hey, Rev, is this one okay?"
"Yes, sir," I said. "It's okay."
"What seat you got?" he asked.
"I've got 10A."
He looked at the lady behind the desk and said, "I want 10B."
I had to smell that old cigar all the way to Dallas and on to New Orleans, but it was all right because the Lord was with us.
When I remembered that story, I thought to myself, God is not a Respecter of Persons, the bible says so. We are all equal in His eyes. If that man can hear from God: So. Can. I.
I was convinced that if I gave God a chance, He would speak to me too. All I needed was a fool-proof strategy. The bible! So I remembered Daniel, a great example of how someone's determination to hear from God worked, so I reread the book of Daniel and saw that when he wanted to hear from God he started a fast. Daniel believed fasting would help his prayers to be heard by God. I figured if it worked for him it would work for me so I began the same fast Daniel did. I ate nothing tasty nor drank any alcohol for 21 days and I began every day in prayer. Up until this point, I had been using alcohol to conquer my fears because it was the only way I could get through many of life's activities. But, I was tired of being a slave to fear, and doubly tired of drinking to obnoxiousness for the cure, and I was determined that hearing from God was a solution to all of my problems.
I believed with all of my heart, that God was a good God and because of that, if I waited on Him every day, I would be safe. If I gave Him a chance to lead me and to keep me safe, He would. I just needed to give Him the time to do that. I dedicated the first half hour to forty five minutes of every morning to waiting on God. I would praise all the way through my cassette tapes. I expected Him to help me overcome my fear with spoken messages, like the one he spoke to the man on the plane. But He didn't do it exactly that way. He did something different...... because: He's God.
Almost from the start, I began hearing from God.
Only, at first, I did not realize it was God. That took some practice. Sounds weird right? It took some time to figure it out because at first He didn't speak to me in sentences, or with words. I expected words. I had heard Him speak in English before so that is what I expected now but that is not what happened.
I hadn't attended church in at least two years. I ran as far and as fast away from that voice as I possibly could. The very last thing that I ever wanted to do is to make a spectacle of myself. Yelling prophecies from my seat loudly enough for the entire church to hear didn't even register on the 'Making a Spectacle of Myself Chart' because it went so far past anything I could possibly imagine doing to embarass myself. The thought was horrifying to me.
Even thinking of speaking in public brought back memories of the one time that I did and this memory reminded me not to consider ever doing it again. It was not too long before this incident that my husband and I were financially strapped so badly that it looked like we were going to loose everything. Dawn Dell taught me that if you ask God in faith, He will answer. So I promised God I would do better in the future and asked Him to help me out of my mess. Within a week, I received a $5,000 check from a family member who I never spoke to and who had no idea what was going on in my finances. I had lent them money a decade earlier and didn't expect to see any of it again so I was shocked when the check arrived. After we were done paying off all of our bills and tithing ten percent, we had enough left over for a pizza.
When I went to church to tithe, I shared the news with the pastor. He surprised me by calling me up front to 'give my testimony'.
I didn't leave my seat. I didn't have a testimony. I had a check and a whole lot of relief but I definitely did not have a testimony so I just sat there staring at him as though he were speaking Chinese. I didn't move a muscle or even register understanding on my face.
Chuckling, the pastor said, "C'mon up here, Mia. We won't bite."
My heart was pounding, my ears were on fire, and as I walked up the asile I prayed that a hole in the floor would open and swallow me up in it, but up the aisle I went. When I got up to the front the pastor handed me the microphone and I stood there paralyzed. He wanted me to stand there and share, in front of the whole church, but my knees shook so badly I couldn't do it.
I turned to the pastor with desperation in my voice, and said, "I'm sorry but I can' t stand here."
My gazed locked onto the seats in the front row and I quickly sat in the chair closet to me, partially turning in it so that my back wasn't to the church but not so much that I was facing them either. Then, I did what I always do when forced to speak to people, I rushed through the entire story, bouncing back and forth, jumbling the entire story out of order, and I spoke so quickly it was a miracle anyone could understand me.
When it was over, I didn't spend any time waiting for a reaction but I happened to notice as I ran back to my seat that I miraculously must have gotten the story across because as I ran by I couldn't help but notice that everyone was clapping, and laughing, and they all looked genuinely pleased by my traumatized performance. My ears continued to burn for a long time after I returned to my seat. Mainly because I felt like such an idiot. I couldn't speak without babbling and I couldn't even stand at the altar without fear of fainting. The moment the service was over I ran to my car and stayed away from church for a long time after.
Needless to say, I was absolutely convinced that public speaking wasn't for me. I liked giving God glory for His awesomeness but I would rather do it through an anonymous submission to the church newsletter than to ever speak in public again. Even worse than speaking in front of the church would be belting out a message from God from my seat, without the dignity and benefit of standing up front with a microphone. I couldn't bear the thought of speaking in public in a dignified manner, so the thought of doing it from my seat impromptu was on my top ten list of things that I never want to do which is why I was so reluctant to go to church. I felt if I buried my head in the sand I would not be actively disappointing God. I just wouldn't be present to be put in the position where I would disappoint both of us by being a chicken.
But God didn't let me escape His voice, even outside of the church. I found myself in embarassing situations on God's behalf no matter where I was.
One particular summer, my husband's ex-wife wanted to go on vacation but she had no one to stay with my step-children while she was gone. My husband and I lived in Texas at the time and our families lived in Upstate New York. We were on good terms with his ex-wife, Jody, so I thought it would be a perfect opportunity for me to take care of my step-children for a week and then I would be able to spend some time with my family as well.
Along with my step-children, Tommie and Robyn, I was also caring for their step- brother, Orry, and their step-sister, Bitty. In addition to their children, Jody and Jim had a twenty year old boarder staying there as well. And since Tommie and my nephew Drew were close, Drew came with me to spend some time with Tommie.
One night we started talking about God. I asked if they believed in God and most or all of them said, No.
There was an intense urgency and unusual faith inside of me from God, prompting me to take this opportunity to talk to these guys about being born again and to tell them that God would do a miracle for them because time was short.
Before I could change my mind, I blurted out, "Would you believe if He proved to you He was real? Because He will prove it."
The day had been a very dreary, drizzling rainy day. The rain was coming down constantly as I imagined it did during Noah's time, it was a constant, non-stop down pour. The only thing I could think to ask God to do was if He would stop the rain upon request.
So I said, "How about we ask God to stop the rain. Would that do it for you?"
They all nodded very enthusiastically. They were excited about the prospect of God proving He was real.
As we were all going out the back door, God dropped into my heart that I was going to have to scream the request at the top of my lungs. As I look back I can now see He was pushing me to overcome my inhibitions. At the time, I was horrified. At first it was cool to think that I was going to get to be the one who prays for God to do something really cool and to have it happen but now, this was not cool.
Why do I have to look like the village idiot in the middle of all this coolness?
VERY reluctantly, I took a deep breath and, we all looked up at the sky and I yelled at the top of my lungs, "God please stop the rain!"
If someone were measuring, they would probably be able to tell you that as soon as I spoke the words, the rain that had already started to fall, before I spoke, continued to fall but it was if the rain stopped the instant I asked. It continued to rain only for the amount of time it would have taken the rain already on its way down to finish falling. Then, POOF, no more rain.
I was just as amazed as they were. We all stood around saying, Wow! That is so cool!
Knowing that what just happened could be considered a fluke, I said, Let's ask God to start the rain again.
Once again, still embarassed at being required to scream when I knew very well that God could hear me perfectly, I screamed at the top of my voice, "God please start the rain!"
And instantly, again, the rain started.
The amazing part in all this is that the rain hadn't stopped raining all day. It was the kind of rain that doesn't stop. It just keeps raining and raining and raining. The only break in the rain was directly and immediately related to prayer.
"Now. Let's ask Him to stop it again, just so there is no doubt that this was God." They all agreed enthusiastically.
Once again, I screamed at the top of my voice, "God please stop the rain!"
And once again, it was as though the rain that was in mid-fall finished falling and there was no more.
I was truly amazed. This was just absolutely incredible. But it was becoming redundant and I felt in a stirring in my spirit to go for it, so I said, Do you want to ask Him to do something else so there is no doubt left in your mind?
They said, "Yeah! Ask Him for lightening!"
Again, the rain was drizzly. It was not a thunder and lightening storm. It was just an all day drenching rain so having thunder and lightening make a perfectly time entrance would be the icing on the cake.
"Okay, here goes," I said.
To make it even less likely to be discounted as coincidence, I yelled, "God please send thunder and lightening within two minutes!"
I barely had the words out of my mouth and the loudest thunder I ever heard and the biggest streak of lightening went crashing through the entire night sky. The display was so utterly amazing that all of the kids, including the twenty year old, practically broke the sliding screen door down in their haste to get out of Dodge. They were well and truly awed and done messing around.
Once inside, I asked who was ready to give their hearts to God. Three of the five raised their hands and we prayed the sinners prayer together. I later understood the urgency. That night, Orry was one of those that received Christ. A few years later he died from massive head injuries after a fall from a car. I shudder to think what would have happened if I didn't act on the stirring in my heart and God's prompting. When I heard that Orry died, I took comfort that I didn't do the comfortable thing, instead I submitted to God's urgent leading to minister to the young people that day and as a result I believe that Orry's name was written in the Lamb's Book of Life.
God used this episode to teach me a very important lesson. He had me scream out loud to teach me that the embarassment I felt walking in this gift was insignificant in comparison to the eternal benefits that could be reaped through it. He may ask me to do things that I am uncomfortable with but the benefit to the people He would be ministering to would be priceless.
Are you ready? I said, looking at my watch and mentally calculating exactly how many minutes late we were going to be.
I detested looking for seats after praise and worship had started. It's hard to tell how many seats are together while people are all standing and swaying about. And standing on the end of aisle after aisle, looking as though I had just learned to count, while trying to find seats isn't exactly my favorite either
"C'mon. I'd rather not go than be late again!" I huffed, leaning against the garage door as though my waiting in that particular location would be the catalyst to actually make leaving happen.
I hated being a spectacle. I would prefer to slink into my seat, with nobody watching, and to remain invisible all through the service, until the very end, when I could then slink back to my car while all the while escaping everyone's notice. I couldn't help my preference for slinking about: Socially speaking, I am a "special- needs" person. One of two things can happen in any given social encounter. A.) I babble incessantly, bouncing from one subject to the next, without stopping, breathing, or making any sense, until the object of my babbling politely excuses themselves, or, B.) Stare blankly at the other party, unable to think of a single thing to say, until the other party politely excuses themselves. Rather than continually suffering through this over and over, I prefer to slink.
Finally, the rest of the group flounced down the hallway and we were on our way. They probably didn't actually flounce but the irritation was still fresh in mind, so flounce they did.
My nerves frazzled by the stress of being late, I drove silently to church while allowing a message from my favorite preacher to soothe my senses. Then, as soon as we entered the parking lot, the feeling of God's presence was suddenly, and incredibly, tanglible. Any last vestigages of the mornings cacophany was blasted away as we drove through the veil. It was like driving through an invisible bubble. One second we were driving along the church driveway like always, with nothing out of the norm, and then, the next second, everything was different. It was like entering another dimension, only: Everything looked the same but my spirit came alive with the difference. God was present. I could feel it with every fiber of my being.
Once inside, we made our way to a group of seats together, weaving through the swaying bodies, trying not to touch anyone and - finally - we settled in, with His presence still as palpable as before. The worship was amazing, as it only can be when God is present. I wanted it to go on and on forever. I love worshipping in God's presence. There is a high to it that is inexplainable to those who have never experienced it. It is the real high. The high that street drugs try to duplicate but never will. When God shows up, my spirit basks in the pure ecstacy of His presence. In my book, services like this were too far and few between but right then I was basking in His awesomeness and praising my little heart out.
"By my strong right arm I will uphold you and by my hand I will lead you," came very loudly into my thoughts. Well not exactly my thoughts. My thoughts normally came from my head, this was like thinking from lower - from my heart.
What the........ ? What IS that!? I thought.
"By my strong right arm I will uphold you and by my right hand I will lead you. You will run but not grow weary. You will not grow weak." Came again, just as loudly.
What the heck IS that!?!?!?! Why am I thinking in these strange phrases?
I had an inkling of what was happening, mainly because my church was very prophetic but I stamped the inkling out quickly, refusing to even entertain the notion of what my subconscious was trying to suggest from way down deep. When the inkling started to return, I bound and gagged my subconscious and closed that door of my brain to prevent the inkling from getting stronger and then went on with logical thought.
"By my strong right arm I will uphold you and by my right hand I will lead you. You will run but not grow weary. You will not grow weak." Came from behind me in a loud feminine voice.
Oh. My. Gosh. With my jaw dangling loosely from head, I looked back to find the person who was doing the speaking. I didn't recognize her as any member of the church ministry, I actually didn't recognize her at all.
Usually, there was one particular lady who always said the strangely phrased sentences, so I didn't understand why she wasn't the one saying the strangely phrased sentences now. Granted I hadn't been going to church for long, so I wondered, Why was some random, obscure lady doing the talking?
The lady who usually spoke, was best friends with the pastors. Her name was Dawn Dell. She and the pastors had all been saved together, almost simultaneously, twenty years before. Whenever I got into her prayer line, she would pray, without a word from me, and her prayers were always the exact reason for my presence in her prayer line. It never ceased to amaze me, that no matter how random my need for prayer she always hit the nail on the head and God never failed to minister to me through her. Being ministered to by this woman, with her uncanny ability to hear from God, absolutely convinced me far, far, beyond my initial faith that God was alive and well.
So why isn't she the one doing the talking? I wondered silently. Why would God give the message to anyone besides Dawn?
Then, before I knew it, the pastor had preached his message, the service was over, and I could slink my small herd out to the car where we could hurry to our favorite restaurant before the throngs of church people got there.
After having brunch together and returning home, I was mozying around the house, searching for something to entertain me when I remembered that I had just received a book order the day before and decided that reading one would be a great way to spend the day. I found the box of books and after busting open the crisp brown box, I began to rifle through.
Coincidentally.... or not, I found a book about the gifts of the spirit. Hungry to learn everything i could about God and the spiritual realm, I had just ordered ten different books and this particular one, on this particular day, intrigued me.
At the time, I didn't know what my gift was, largely because I was ignorant of spirtual gifts so I was eager to find out all that I could so that I would be well on my way to spiritual fruitition. As such, I dug into the book and had been reading for quite some time when I came upon a chapter about prophecy, and read:
When the Holy Spirit is active, anyone with the prophetic gift can receive a corporate message from God, which is meant to be shared with the church body at large. Commonly, more than one person will receive the same message because it is up to the individual who receives the Word to choose to deliver the message. Not everyone will respond to the prophetic call, therefore God will continue spreading the message until an individual makes the choice to speak God's Word.
My eyes bugged out of my head and I snapped the book closed. I had heard enough!
This chapter described exactly what happened today at church. I heard some strange words. I had a feeling that I was supposed to do what the other lady did, which was to yell those word out from seat, loudly enough for the entire church to hear: But I was NEVER going to do that - EVER - and therefore God gave the message to somebody else, and they did.
My subconsious was smirking at me. I told you.
In the middle of a panic, I thought, Are you kidding me?!?! I have a prophetic gift? I don't want this gift. I want to talk to someone in customer service because this is obviously a mistake. People like me do not shout out loudly in church.
My prophetic self just smiled knowingly from its corner, as if to say, Oh yes you will.
Oh no! I am NEVER doing that! I continued to reassure myself. Never! Not Ever! Never!
I would like to exchange this gift for... perhaps... hospitality, maybe? I will wash the windows at church. Clean the toilets, plant the flowers. I don't care what I do but I am NOT DOING THIS!.