Day 365: I Dare You


There is no dream, goal, idea, person, relationship, job, or career worth losing your identity over.

Lost is painful. It seeps into the crevices of your heart. It waffles over tender memories. But pain lessens over time and in some cases over distance. Give the emotion an opportunity to dissipate and yourself the opportunity to heal.

People would miss you even if you feel they wouldn’t. Besides, the biggest loser is the one convinced they have nothing left to lose… You!

Prove your greatest critic wrong. One more time.

I double dog dare you!

Signed the Voice You Should Be Listening To,

Antithetically You

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Day 165: As A Writer – the Real Tragedy


In trust

Year one of my blog I attempted to write daily. I was more successful at times than others.

Year two I actually managed to write almost daily for a large part of the year.

Year three, I realized, I could not make the same commitment as other bloggers and set out to post at least once a month.

Last month was the first month I missed my mark. I didn’t stop writing, I just stopped posting. I go through these periods where I want to hold on to the drops of knowledge streaming from my mine. Eventually, I release them, once I feel they have germinated long enough to sprout and bloom.

I enjoy writing. I enjoy your comments and likes I think more than I realized I would. Sometimes, we have to hold onto ourselves a little longer so we remain whole, especially, as artists.

Artists create from experience.

Artists divulge secret thoughts in their artistry.

Artists are transparently exposed to the elements of the audiences’ minds, preconceptions, and suppositions.

Some of these elements are true and others not so much.

 

What prompts me to write today is a need to release in a form I have come to find solace.

My writing rejuvenates my soul.

 

I know people are hurting today by yet another demonstration of targeted misplaced hatred.

I recognize many are searching for answers and for some those answers will never come.

I appreciate the pause the nation, if not the world, has taken to grieve the senseless loss of life.

I mourn the slain.

I pray for their families, their friends, their love ones, and the love ones they will never have.

The tragedy is tragic.

The incident deserves space in our hearts, in our minds, in our thoughts, and yes, in our conversations.

 

My issue is not with the events.

My issue is with the reaction.

 

And, for some it may seem callous.

I confess, I questioned myself.

I wondered if living in this world has desensitized me in ways I do not understand.

I wondered if my anger at what I can only classify as debilitating thinking is right.

Am I wrong for cringing when I hear a person say “they no longer feel safe”?

It is extremely difficult to stomach, when it comes from a person of faith.

 

What is this weird concept of safety? We are only as safe as the intentions and dedication of someone else to harm us or themselves. Of course, there are things we can do to mitigate the threats to our safety, but living means we all live with a certain level of uncertainty. It’s called life. We seem to love creating boogeymen so we have a reason to raise our voices and be heard. Or close our doors and not be seen. Pick your prison!

“I’m screaming inside, because it would be impolite and disruptive to do so on the outside, “Hello, who do we put our trust in?” “What world do you live in?” “How can you proclaim power and cower every time darkness breaches the ‘Circle of Life”?”

As a writer, words build bridges.

As a writer, words tear down walls.

As a writer, words lift up dreams.

As a writer, words silence nightmares.

As a writer, words speak for the mute.

As a writer, words invoke change.

As a writer, words are eternally hopeful.

 

I guess what I’m saying is the situation in Orlando, in our nation, in our universe can breathe darkness in the shallowly places of our lands. In these times, we often lament about the incident long enough to allow time to pass before the next great tragedy. I am not here to take away someone else’s method of coping. If this is how one needs to cope, cope on.

 

I simply find myself frustrated with the lack of depth of our arguments, of our comments, or our display of power the size of a toothpick in an EF5 tornado.

 

Deeply Sadden and Frustrated,

 

EYHCS

 

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Day 52: The Power Force of Understanding


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A great friend of mine commented yesterday about my absence from my blog of late, with a slightly dejected, solemn, and otherwise heartbroken-heartfelt disposition. I explained as best I could where I have been in my journey to speak and write the truth. I expressed my new found commitment to my craft. Some would call it a gift. Other would call it artistic expression. Whatever, it is, I respect it and have chosen this time to hone it. Because my friend’s need was real, I write this entry today.

This is for my powerful four! You each know exactly who you are and I love each of you beyond mere words. Your presence in my life has changed me forever and I look forward to all God has for each of us throughout the years.

This is also for those that follow my blog. I have a lot of material and when the time is right, I will share it all.

The road we travel is not unknown. The people we meet are not unforeseen. The connections we make are designed well in advance for the appointed time and place. Two years ago, we all imagine a different future than the one we find ourselves living today. Four years ago, we wondered how we would make it through. Six years ago, we prayed silently for relief. Eight years ago, we stood our ground in the God we love. Ten years ago, we wondered if this really would be the fate God dealt us.

Today, we are stronger. Today, we are wiser. Today, we are becoming exactly who God intended us to be. Today is a new day. Today is our day. Today let’s live it the only way we can…through love, by faith, and in humility.

EYHCS

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Day 37 – If You Seek ME, You Will Find ME


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I looked to the hills, but did not find you. I looked to the stars, but could not see you. I looked in the valleys, but could not hear you. I looked inside, but could not feel you. I cried out your name and you came from the hills, through the stars, from the valleys, and soared through me. Who are you?

EYHCS

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HSCM Segment 4: Where there is smoke, there is fire


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Image Proofs 054

I began the Holy Spirit Confession Moment series about nine months ago. Initially, I had the intention of running it for a consecutive six weeks.  Almost immediately after completing the first’s week edition, my heart became heavy. My mind began to twirl and my soul began to rise up. I had no choice, but to set the series aside for a while.

Ezekiel 1:1

 1 Now it came to pass in the thirtieth year, in the fourth month, on the fifth day of the month, as I was among the captives by the River Chebar, that the heavens were opened and I saw visions of God. (NKJV)

During the course of the next nine months, God continued to speak, the Holy Spirit continued to guide me into all truth and all knowledge. I listened through some rough times. I listened through some heart wrenching times. I listened and did my best to move myself out-of-the-way. My attempts were successful. I spent time listening, observing, and staying alert.

Then on August 15, 2014, my soul awoke and I experienced a new level in the understanding of God’s Holy Spirit as it relates to God’s omnipresence concerning my life’s journey.

Yet, I still could not fully release my gift to write openly. I posted old writings in an attempt to continue my goal of posting daily. Eventually, I stopped posting altogether, until now.

In order to open up my creative juices, I began looking for meditation materials. I found a series of audio books and listened to them faithfully for several weeks. I felt myself becoming more centered. I felt myself lifting up and lifting out. Yet, I still felt it was not time to write. However, the meditation materials helped. I began to enter what I can only call the third heaven regularly. I would fall into a deep almost trance like sleep. During these experiences, I would see faces of people I knew and people I did not know. At times, I would hear voices and full-blown conversations. At other times, it would just be a deep sense of peace. I would awake rejuvenated. I liked this renewed sense of peace feeling, settling in my life.

Revelations 3:20-22

20 Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and dine with him, and he with me21 To him who overcomes I will grant to sit with me on my throne, as I also overcame and sat down with my Father on his throne. 22 “He who has an ear, let him hear what the Spirit says to the churches.” (NKJV)

Last Tuesday around midnight, It was cold here in Dallas. I had just finished talking and having a cigarette with a good friend of mine when we each went our separate ways. Him headed home in the cold Fall weather colored by freezing rain and slick streets. However, I was not quite ready to go back inside. Thus, I went to my car for another cigarette before I returned to work surrounded by the heat flowing from my car vents.

Out of nowhere, a deep sense of impending danger fell over me. A name shifted through the atmosphere. It just so happens, it was the name shared by both my friend (from earlier) and my partner. Accompanied by the name were words.  One word in particular sticks out in my memory now, accident.  I attempted to wash it away.  As I battled internally, the Holy Spirit spoke to my inner spirit while I listened to music and smoked my cigarette. I do not recall interceding outwardly. I simply smoked my cigarette and returned to work filled with an odd sense of foreboding.

Not too long after returning to work my friend sent me a text he was stuck in traffic due to the bridge being blocked by black ice a few counties from his home. Government road officials had been called out to clear the roads, but in the meantime, he and all the other anxious travelers would have to wait it out. Before we concluded our call, I asked him to text me when he arrived at home. The impending danger still sat in my heart. Concerned, I continued to work.

A few hours later, I felt unusually tired and sought the comfort of my car for some rest. I set my alarm to awake me at 5:00 am.  As I slept, I entered into a trance sleep. I awoke to my car filled with smoke and the distinct smell of burning wood. I knew consciously my car was not on fire. I recall stating the same out loud as I drifted back to sleep. A few minutes later my partner called me, there was a fire in our apartment building. As I sat in my car, gathering the pertinent information, I thought upon the experience I had only moments ago. You know, “are you alright?” “Is it our apartment building?” “Is it our apartment?” As she confirmed, “Yes, I am alright”. “No, it is not our apartment building, but the apartment building next to us”. My spirit calmed inside. We spoke for a few minutes before we decided I needed to come home.

I calmly turned off the car and proceeded back upstairs to sign out for the rest of my shift. I sent an email notifying my manager and said goodbye to my co-worker. I returned to my car with a new sense of peace and awareness for the power of the Holy Spirit within. I picked up my cigarettes, pulled one out, located my lighter, and calmly pulled out of the parking garage. As, I drove home, I listened to the Holy Spirit. There was no panic. There was no sense of urgency. There was nothing, but a sense of acknowledgement for the God I love and the Holy Spirit within.

I arrived home about ten or fifteen minutes later to find seven to eleven fire trucks in and around our apartment complex. My partner had already informed me I would more than likely be unable to get close to our building due to the fire trucks. It still did not stop me from trying. In any regards, I eventually parked two buildings away and joined my partner in her car. We spoke about her experience.  We spoke about how she had just recently fallen to sleep. We spoke about how I knew, because I had messaged her about thirty minutes before the fire started. We spoke about the normal things of life, including, she needed to go to the bathroom, but we had not been given the go ahead to re-enter our apartment, and about her shock at being woken by loud knocks upon the door in the wee hours of the morning.

Eventually, I approached our building and locked our door after surveying our intact apartment. I returned to the car still unable to share any of what I am writing now. How could I… I thought, I was still in the moment. We spent the rest of the morning with her mother as I sat in both peace and awareness. Once back at home with my partner asleep, I sat in my living room and read a book my mother had given me several years ago. I pulled the still cellophane wrapped book from under my center table. Pulling back the cellophane, I opened the book and began reading. It felt as if God himself was speaking to just me. I went to sleep in peace. When I awoke later that evening, I thought to myself, I will write this account down, I will tell this story, but not today.

At work that night, I spoke with my friend who discussed being stranded on the road earlier that morning. He spoke about the multiple accidents in front of him. One of the accidents included up to twenty-three cars. His car and life spared. As he spoke, I recalled the encounter with the Holy Spirit earlier that day and all that had transpired in the last twenty-four hours. I smiled and I listened to my friend’s account of his eventful morning. When it was over, we entered the building and I promised him I would tell him all about the fire, but he would have to read it here, on my blog, once it had time to settle in my spirit, in my mind, and in my heart.

Job 28:20-28

20 “From where then does wisdom come?

And where is the place of understanding?

21 It is hidden from the eyes of all living.

And concealed from the birds of the air.

22 Destruction and Death say,

“We have heard a report about it with our ears.”

23 God understands its way.

And He knows its place.

24 For He looks to the end of the earth.

And sees under the whole heavens,

25 To establish a weight for the wind.

And apportion the waters by measure.

26 When He made a law for the rain.

And a path for the thunderbolt.

27 Then He saw wisdom and declared it;

He prepared it, indeed, He searched it out.

28 And to man He said,

‘Behold, the fear of the Lord, that is wisdom,

And to depart from evil is understanding.’ ”

(NKJV)

I have only recounted my experience and my understanding, because it is all I have to offer. Normally, I would offer some form of conjecture, but it feels unnecessary and totally inadequate.

Stay blessed and know God is real.

HSCM: Segment 3 – My Evolving Experience with the Holy Spirit


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This is my story.  This is my experience.  This is beyond anything I could ever imagine or ever fully explain.  I have reread this account numerous times before publishing it on my blog for the world to see.  I did not set out to tell everything I have written.  I actually did not set out to tell this story, at all.  I sat out to tell the story of my fractured right foot, which occurred on August 15, 2014 at my place of employment.  The story has evolved into revealing some of my most closely held and some of my most inner private experiences with the Holy Spirit over the last five to seven years.  In order to tell it all, I would have to write a series of books.  I will save that for another day.

Once upon a time in a land far away, a young black woman sought out Christ. Her number one goal was to become Christlike.  She never fully grasped the totality of such a magnanimous goal.  All she knew was she wanted to have the full experience of being one with God.  Over the course of 38-years, God came to her in many forms, through many signs, and performed many wonders. With each passing experience, her faith grew stronger, her walk grew truer, and her belief in the one true God grew deeper.  This is a truncated version of that black girl’s  story as she began to experience the fullness of Christ.

It is not intended to be a persuasive story.  It is not intended to rewrite the logistical nature of religion as we know it.  It is simply the true story of one little black girl from Southeast Dallas, who became a strong, powerful, and black woman in Christ.

So I began…

Last Friday, I fractured my right foot.  I felt the need to write about it, but I was unclear about what to say or how much to share about the experience.  Even as I write now, I draw on the strength and guidance of the Holy Spirit.

Where do I begin?  How do I begin?  What do I say?  These are all questions floating around in my head since the experience occurred.  I pray I deliver only what is necessary and only what is expedient to express the emotions going through my membrane in this moment.

I remember the glory of God being present very early on the morning of August 15, 2014.  I borrow the term ‘the glory of God’ from a book I have been reading for over seven years now.  I have never read the entire book.  In fact, I still have not.  The contents and concepts expressed in the book are so powerful it would be an injustice to not spend ample time digesting it as one would a five course-five star meal.  The book speaks to the levels of heaven, the power of God (glory of God) at the various levels, specific portals or spots known to see great moves of God, and our ability to tap into it all.

It all began with a conversation I had with a man of God at work.  We were discussing some pretty intense subjects.  The kind of subject forbidden in most workplaces and for good reason.  At some point, the conversation turned to religion.

{Silence}

Our conversation went like this:

“For someone with a literal view of the world or something to that effect I began.

{Questioning look appears across his face}

“I know you have a very literal interpretation of the Bible…” I continue.

“What do you mean by literal”, he replied.

“Well, we have had many conversations on this issue…” I replied.

He interrupted me, with his understanding of literal and figurative.  He references several books of the Bible, including Revelations and the four-headed horsemen.  “Well, of course, that is symbolism”, he concluded.

I asked another question, “Do you believe in the Holy Spirit living with you?”  I knew his answer; we have had this very discussion countless times.  He does not.

He confirms his belief and finishes off with, “God doesn’t say or mention anything about the Holy Spirit in the Bible.  There is no mention of it.”  He prepares to continue his defense for his hope.

{Now, I am the one with the perplexed look upon my face.}

I pause and inject, “Jesus does”.

He pauses.  {With a somewhat defensive look upon his face} I have his attention, I noticed.  I continue.

“Jesus, says in a passage, I do not recall the exact passage, but he is talking to the disciples and he says, ‘Thomas or Peter (I really cannot remember in the moment), do not be afraid for I go to be with the Father and because I go to be with the Father, I will send you a helper and that helper will usher you into all truth, all knowledge, and he will be with you always.”, I concluded.

He says, “But that doesn’t state he will live with me.  Being with me and living with me are not the same.  I see the Holy Spirit like air.  It is a force, but it doesn’t live with me.”

I pause again.  “What is your understanding of El or Emmanuel?” I quickly remove El and clarify my question with just Emmanuel only.

He relays a textbook definition of the word without any connection to the Spirit of the word.

I pause doing my best not to allow my personal beliefs to overshadow the moment.  I normally do at this stage of the conversation.  Slightly different than normal, I profess my belief emphatically.  “I believe the Holy Spirit lives with me.  The Holy Spirit guides me into all truth.  The Holy Spirit is my guide.  The Holy Spirit is my teacher.” I state.

It does not connect. I switch gears, take my headphones off and become fully engaged in the conversation.

“Do you believe the New Testament is a continuation of the Old Testament?  Again, the perplexed look rolls across his face.  This happens a lot when we talk.  I have become accustomed to having to reexamine my choice of terminology with this particular person.  I change approaches and expand my thought.

For example, some people believe the Old Testament is a historical text only.   These same people believe the New Testament ushered in a new covenant, which they live by today.  Some people believe the Old Testament is the Gospel and the New Testament text is a continuation of the Old Testament.  Some people believe the Old Testament has passed away and represents how God dealt with his people in the prior to the birth of Christ, but the New Testament ushered in a High Priest, a new covenant, and we are no longer required or expected to follow the Old Testaments rules and regulations.  These same people believe the greatest of these new commandments, “is love”, he finishes my statement.  {I nod}  Some people even believe the Holy Spirit exists, that we have an intimate and personal relationship with him, and that he lives with us. Before I can finish my thought…

He states, the Old Testament is a historical text, and the New Testament, beginning with the Gospels is the governing text for Christians today.  I find no disagreement here, but I also was not through with my statement.

I continued, “because of the fire and brimstone theology of some churches…”  I paused careful not to say traditional churches.  I have been working purposefully to stop fragmenting the Church more than it already is.

“Fire and brimstone”, he questions.

“Yes, fire and brimstone”, I replied.

“That’s not in the bible”, he states.

“True, it is not.  It is a term used by some to refer to an angry God spoken about from many pulpits, especially, in the South.  I grew-up in one of them”, I state.

“I’ve heard the phrase before, but wasn’t sure what it meant”, he continues.

“It refers to damnation for sin, for adultery, excessive drinking, the LGBT community…” I state before being cut-off.

Almost under his breath, “LGBT”, he questions with a smirk upon his countenance.

“Yes, Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, and Transgender”, I reply.

“Oh, they have a name for that or them now”, he replies.

“Yes, they always have”, I comment dryly behind gritted teeth.

We continue with the explanation of the term fire and brimstone.

I continue, “for the most part, it refers to scripture being taken out of context {clobber passages came to mind, but I decided against using the term – I credited it to the Holy Spirit’s guidance in the moment} and then used to beat a particular group of people or sinners over the head with the fear of the wrath of God’s eternal damnation if they don’t …”

He chimes in again, “See that’s the problem, people taking scripture out of context instead of reading it in context”. We agree here, but somehow the conversation wanes and I return to working on my task at hand.

It is smoke break time.  Outside, a co-worker comments about my knowledge of the Bible.  “You really know that Bible stuff.  I’ve never seen anyone shut-up or confuse him before when it comes to the Bible”, she finishes.  “I know it, because I lived it, I experienced it, I made it real for me”, I close.  “Yea, but you really, know it”, she states.  I do not find any pride in this fact.  I actually try to dispel her eagerness at my knowledge. Paul words to the Corinthians I believe it was comes to mind {Do not boast in yourself, if you must boast, boast in the Lord.  I confess now, while I have read the Bible many times, there are only a few scriptures I ever committed to memory with the actual scripture, chapter, and verse.  The rest I simply rely on the Holy Spirit to provide me in my time of need from that, which I already deposited during my studies.} I think on the greater price this moment of recognition has costed me before she departs.  As she walks away, I light-up my second cigarette to the backdrop of my night music mix of Gospel music.

A few hours later, back inside the building I really need a restroom break.  However, I choose this moment to bring my body into submission.  I really need to go to the restroom, though.  I have since the smoke break earlier.  It has been almost two hours since this sensation occurs to me, but I am focused on the task at hand.  We are on a deadline to finish our current workload before the next batch drops.  I am determined to finish.  I can no longer refrain, the please wait dance just fell flat and I arise.

It is here, I sought the voice of God the most before writing this blog.  Primarily, because it is here the next 30 – 45 minutes blur between the natural realm and the supernatural realm, for me.  It is here, I pause.  It is here I wonder how much is too much and how little is too little.  It is here I will lose some people, because the natural mind cannot correlate to what follows below.  It is here, my greatest experience with the glory of God occurs.  It is here the last five to seven years began to make sense for me.

I enter the restroom.  I complete my reason for being there.  Sharp pains began in my sides almost immediately.  They intensify.  They become so great I cannot bear to stand up.  I call on the strength of my healer.  With the help of the Holy Spirit, I manage to redress and stand-up.  It is here I wonder if this is my end and by end, I mean, am I dying. It feels like air is circulating throughout my entire body.  I feel nauseous.  I feel almost hollow.  It begins on the right-side of my body and moves throughout my human vessel.  I feel dizzy.  I believe I silently called out for help, maybe even salvation.  I couldn’t feel my heartbeat anymore.  I felt separated from my fleshly self.  I felt here and not here.  I closed my eyes to steady myself.  I registered for some reason, I have my hands in my pocket.  Immediately, the words of a prophet comes forth like it was yesterday.  It has been several years, he tells me to take my hands out of my pocket.   Obediently, I remove them from inside my pockets.  I place them flat on the outside of my pants with one thumb looped inside my pockets at each hip.

Eyes now closed, I stand with my back against the wall of the bathroom stall.  I imagine a balloon with the air being released.  This is how I feel in this moment.  I wonder if I am about to die on the second floor of my workplace building.  I wonder a lot of things in this moment.  I am afraid and not afraid.  It goes dark.

I awake, on the floor in a great deal of pain.  Where is it coming from?  It is no longer dark.  It is actually quite bright. Why do I see myself falling if I am already on the floor?  How do I see myself falling if I am already on the floor?  In this moment, it doesn’t matter.  There is an intense pain streaming from somewhere and I need to find the source of the pain immediately.  It is coming from my right foot.  My God, this hurts.  I look at my foot secured in my white leather Adidas sports shoe with a beige stripe down the toe.  I normally wear slip-on open black pumps, but the strap broke yesterday or at least I noticed it was broke yesterday.  It is amazing where the mind travels when in a state of shock.  I summon the strength to remove the shoe in both word and thought.  Thank God, the shoe is removed.  There is a lot of pain.  It is swollen.  It looks bad.

I lay there as the voice of the Holy Spirit speaks to me, consoles me, guides me, and cares for me in my time of need.  It is not the first time I have heard the voice , but in this state, I listen without objection.  Feet disappear and appear beneath the stall of the bathroom door.  I listen to my comforter in my brokenness.

“Do you need me to call security”, comes the voice on the other side of the locked bathroom stall door.  I pause.  My helper speaks, “Yes”.  The voice on the other side of the door speaks, “Yes”.  It feels like only seconds, but the head of security has now joined the faceless voice on the other side of the bathroom stall door.  My helper, the Holy Spirit is loud now.  I listen behind tears of pain, tears of confusion, and tears of submission.  “I am stubborn”, states the voice.  This is true.  I am and I know it.

I hear all types of things in this moment.  Surviving the brink of death or death itself and so I let the tears flow.  Passing through my workplace in a rolling chair, tears streaming down my face amidst the lunch rush, I look down at my foot away from the prying eyes.  “It is broken”, I say.  “I know”, the audible voice states to me and the flood gate of tears flow. We continue this audible, but silent conversation as the EMTs have a difficulty getting any reading on me.  The blood pressure machine will not read.  It keeps malfunctioning.  The needle to check my sugar levels breaks.  They fumble looking for another, they do not have one.  I believe even the thermometer failed a few times. Questions circulate around me as at least four of the five EMTs work to establish a preliminary finding of my situation.  The blood pressure machine finally registers as does the thermometer.  No luck for the needle.  My vitals are good.  They are actually excellent.  They would eventually get a sugar read in the ambulance, 146.

I am confused.  I am shaken.  I am at a loss for words.  I have been here before.  I have expressed hearing the voice of God before only to be mistaken as crazy.  What do I say?  How do I express this experience knowing what I know now?  I have been hospitalized and placed under psychiatric evaluation for telling my experience with the voice of God to others, before.  I did not understand it then, but my experiences with the voice of God and the presence of God have taught me to trust and recognize the voice and presence of God, better.

I have seen it in the preacher in Fort Worth a few months back after he side-swiped my vehicle from back to front.  As we stood exchanging information, he expressed his reason behind his distracted mind.  His wife recently had a nervous breakdown at work.  She also believed she was being followed on the streets, the freeways, well pretty much everywhere, all the time.  She attacked him, then called the police on him, and had a restraining order put on him.  He was on the way to pay the restitution bill when he side-swiped my vehicle.

While is a very long prophetic trance, I experienced this man’s story.  However, I did not understand it at the time.  To be honest, I really did not understand it until I revised this post.

I have seen it in the prophetic dream of a $150.00 check arriving at my mother’s house only to see the very same check arrive at my mother’s residence in the manner seen in the prophetic dream a few days earlier.

I have seen it in an urgent need to fall to my knees and pray for someone only to have them recount how they were in grave danger or fear at the exact moment the presence of God fell upon me.

I have heard a prophetic whisper say, “Let me look in my purse to see if I have $10 for my Angela”.  Only to have Angela come home and tell me this woman just gave her $10 after she said, “let me look in my purse and see…”  We were absolutely broke and concerned about how we would survive until payday.

I have seen it in a prophetic word coming forth saying someone needed to speak to me or see me and having that person reach out to me shortly thereafter.

I have seen it in billing errors or billing delays when my bank account was funny with not enough money and those automatic debits did not come through automatically.

I have seen it when in a prophetic trance I saw a dismissal of a court case, which would take two years to come to pass for the person.  In the prophetic trance, I was that person living out the experience.  I was able to help this person overcome their anxiety about the pending court case, because of this experience.  By then, my prophetic visions, the voice of God, and prophetic words were being confirmed all over the place.

I have seen it in a doctor’s report coming several days later, but delivered in the moment the person was talking about their pending results.  I find it interesting now, because I have many prophetic appearances with this particular person.

I have seen it in multiple church meetings at different churches and different times.  A prophetic word came forth and the speaker spoke on the exact word almost immediately.  I sat silent, but registered the confirmation internally.  It helped me come to turns with the power and move of God in my life.

I never spoke in or understood the gift of tongues or the usage of tongues.  Since the move of God in my life, I have experienced both including the interpretation of tongues.  About a month ago, I visited an old-church member’s new church.  The speaker spoke in tongues about being grateful God had decided to use him, his vessel, as a prophetic instrument in tongues.  The speaker’s speaking in tongues were out-of-order according to my understanding on the issue of speaking in tongues during a public forum.  I asked the Holy Spirit for a translation.  The translation fell upon me from the speaker’s next words as I saw his Spirit separate from his body.

I have seen it when I mistakenly misunderstood a prophetic word and told the leaders of my church I felt my mother was trying to kill me during my awakening.  Only to meet a woman a few weeks later who felt her mother was trying to kill her and her mother had actually stated she meant to have her dead at the same time I heard the word.

The natural mind cannot understand the spiritual mind of God, I would soon learn.  I stopped assuming personal identification with what I was hearing or seeing.  This helped bring normalcy back into my life.

I stopped talking about it all together.  I just sat back, watched, listened, and took mental note of revelations becoming actualizations in my everyday life.

I saw it most recently, when a friend of mine lost his wallet at work.  The thieves used his AMEX credit card to fill-up gas on four cars (including a Hummer) and his Wal-Mart card to buy $300 worth of merchandise.  A strong feeling of righteous indignation came over me as I listened to my gospel music later that evening and his face materialized before my eyes and floated across my vision from left to right.  I heard ‘vengeance is mine’ amidst the wind.  God would also show me which program the bad actors worked for within the company.  Four days later, those three responsible for the theft were walked out in handcuffs by the police from our place of employment.

When God’s Word began to manifest in my life, I knew just enough, and not nearly enough at the same time.  I am still learning how to move in the prophetic realm, but God has guided me along the way.  I even get angry sometimes about this role.  People do not understand you always.  Your words are twisted at times.  Your intentions are misunderstood and construed at other times.

However, he has saved me far too many times from deaths hands.  He has provided for me far too many times from the brink of poverty.  He has restored me far too many times to not know his voice, his ways, and his very presence.

Now back in the ER, over and over, “so how did it happen”, the attending staff asked. The Holy Spirit is still presently speaking to me on the hospital bed.

I tell the natural experience.  Here’s what I remember.  I felt pain in my side.  I forced myself to stand-up.  I felt like air gyrating around me and my ears swooshing or popping.  I closed my eyes.  I awoke on the floor with pain coming from my right foot.  This is the story I recount over and over to those with the ears, eyes, and mind unable to understand the supernatural version of my story.

I leave out my body was moved in a 45° angle from where the entire experience began.  It was as if, I had been propped up against the bathroom stall door, which is in the opposite direction of the wall I stood on prior to the fall.  No one was in the stall with me.  Even now, I continue to see my actual descending to the ground over and over again.  I cannot explain it and I cannot explain it away.

This is my story.  This is my experience.  This is beyond anything I could ever imagine or ever fully explain.

Yes, I believe the Holy Spirit lives in and the Holy Spirit lives with me.

Yes, I do.

Day 220 – A P.E.O.P.L.E


8.8

A

Populace

Engaged

Over

Every

Problem

Loses

Everyone

Some people are created so you can discover who you really are.

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Day 201 – Forgive Me


Forgive Me

What if being holy isn’t just about being holy?

What if being myself really is being holy, even with all my mess?

What if my mess, makes me holy?

What is holy?

How do we define holy?

How do we live out holiness?

Jesus was holy.

Jesus became angry at times.

Jesus hung out with thugs.

Jesus never had a stable place to live.

Jesus never discussed the appropriate entire for worship.

Jesus simply directed all things to and in his Father’s name.

If we believe Jesus…

If we trust Jesus…

If we rely on Jesus…

If we follow Jesus…

His words, his teachings, his directions, his leadership…

We are holy, because he is holy.

The only one capable of tearing your holiness away from you, is you.

It begins in the mind.

It leads to the heart.

But, the power within, never fades, never leaves, and never forgets.

So, forgive me, I was myself, today.

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Day 194 – Busy No More


Four Things

I used to be extremely busy.

Busy with work.

Busy with school.

Busy with church.

Busy with other people problems.

Busy with other people issues.

Busy with my own insecurities.

I used to be extremely busy.

Then, I woke up.

I am not busy anymore.

I just give myself away selectively, now.

Still productive, just not busy.

Day 193 – Behold


Character

Behold, I give you a new thing.

A promise unlike any you have seen, heard, or experienced before.

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Day 181 – Let it Be


Amazing

Saying goodbye is rarely easy,

but sometimes it is necessary for you to realize just how amazing you truly are.

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Day 174 – Freed


Brave

I am free not because you freed me, but because I freed you.

You are free to be whoever you need to be to survive.

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Day 166 – Transcendency: Happy Father’s Day


Fatal

Breath without living becomes the animated corpse.

Hope without resolve never blossoms beyond the bud.

Life without passion explodes a dream into steam.

We live according to our beliefs.

We die according to our actions.

Today, we thank the Father figures in our lives who lived, died, or who continually guide us into seeing, moving, and going beyond the now.

To my Father(s):  Thank you for the conversations, goodwill, prayers, support, and thoughts you provide(d) in my life of transcendency.

Father Figure –  a male, a female, a spiritual guide, and/or the creator who teaches, guides, and prepares a child to change or live out their truth in connection to “the Truth”.

 

 

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Day 165 – The 10 Steps of Recovery


Quotes

Do, pray, forgive, prioritize, Don’t worry, seek, Don’t judge, ask, stay, and obey!

 

 

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Day 152 – Promise Fulfilled


SamuelJohnsonquoteonPerseverance500x530

Through it all, I never stopped believing in the manifesto written deep within my heart.

 

 

 

 

 

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