Confession Moment #10: An Artist Heart with a Personal Dilemma


How do you balance a public profile being a private person? I’m writing while I’m thinking, because the subject often comes up, especially, as a blog writer.

Often the stories, poems, and prose are not even about me. But sometimes they are. Other times they are about parts of me or the people I see if that makes sense. Whatever the true subject or objective, the words used to express or describe are indeed mine. So, however, I dress it up, essentially, they are subjectively about something connected to me.

On a personal note, I keep everything close to the vest. I rarely disclose personal details about my life, my friends, my plans, or my family (directly). I’ve been this way as long as I can remember. If I do, then that means you’ve earned a level of trust somewhere in my mind and heart. A level that says similar to how I treat those who share their lives with me, you’re not going to go and shout what I say from the mountaintop. I cherish these relationships because they are difficult to find and hard to keep.

I’d liked to say this originated when I first heard the story of Zachariah in Bible school pre-adolescent, and subconsciously, it may have. However, I’m not convinced that’s true.

I’ve watched people over the years and in watching them, I’ve learned a great deal about boundaries. Everyone’s boundaries are different and I like to keep mine like a fortress at times, if not all the time. The problem I learned about living in a fortress is when you need help, it’s hard for help to find a way in. So the almighty and I struck a balance. He places people in my life I know I can trust and confirms their placement by their actions. It has been working thus far.

I’m sure I’ve been burned in the past, but that’s not what this is about. I am also an artist as I previously wrote earlier in this written dialogue currently happening in my head. And the craft of an artist is extremely public and often very personal. Whether the craft envelopes the artist’s personal challenges, triumphs, or something in between the content is almost always raw.

Thus my actual personal life, I like to keep personal and private. Not necessary a secret, but definitely private.

I had an encounter today with a friend girl of mine who innocently indirectly shared a personal component of my life on a public platform. She was only providing encouragement. Encouragement, I greatly appreciated. However, upon having a quick conversation she quickly understood and respected my wishes that I’d rather not have certain components of my life publicly discussed or commented on overtly. I am grateful for that and for her because others might have misinterpreted my call for discretion. And, turned a molehill into a mountain.

Said interaction brought me back to this confession moment. I regularly share my thoughts, experiences, and beliefs on an array of subjects on my blog and on my community Facebook page. I do so willingly and without reservation. Mainly, in hopes, it liberates someone secretly struggling with similar issues. If my transparency can save a life, provide hope, or simply let someone in the universe know they are not alone, then it’s worth it!

We live in a society where fear, shame, emotional distress, and emotional pain are bottled up until they blow up. So I write to let others know, they are indeed not alone, and most of what we battle are temporary distractions. If my public artist heart can save one soul then the open declarations are worth it every time.

Having said that, I was raised in the church. More specifically, I was raised in a church where every Sunday before communion the Pastor would call all those who had “sinned” during the week up to confess their sins one-by-one into the microphone, publicly, in accordance with our church doctrine before the entire church body. Sometimes these lines were ten to fifteen people deep. And, even after confessing their “sins”, they would each have to stand before the church before he prayed for them out loud about their specific “sin” before they were allowed to be seated.

This practice struck me as odd and invasive. Yet, for 18 years I watched the same people, week after week form a line down the right aisle waiting to be redeemed before as a church body, we could take communion. The practice troubled me, but it was tradition and it was not until years later I would experience something different, so I watched in silence week after week, month after month, and year after year until I was 18th and no longer required to attend church. Did my need for personal privacy stem from this, who knows? But, I do know I had my own silent struggles, I never felt comfortable sharing because of this practice and they followed me into adulthood.

So there was always an invisible shield on my internal thoughts for most of my life. I’m not saying I was muted but definitely guarded. And as luck would have it, for good reasons at times. So it’s rare and special when I really can be truly open on a personal level. I’m not harboring dark secrets. I just enjoy the sanctity of my personal life remaining personal.

Still seeking the right balance between publicly transparent and privately personal.

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“Confession Moment #10: An Artist Heart with a Personal Dilemma” (text) by EYHCS published under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License.

©EYHCS AND THE LATEST WORD, 2018. UNAUTHORIZED USE AND/OR DUPLICATION OF THIS MATERIAL, INCLUDING, BUT NOT LIMITED TO YOUTUBE VIDEOS, PAPERS, AND OTHER ORIGINAL WORKS OF ART WITHOUT EXPRESS AND WRITTEN PERMISSION FROM THIS BLOG’S AUTHOR AND/OR OWNER IS STRICTLY PROHIBITED. EXCERPTS, LINKS, AND IMAGES WITHIN POSTS UNLESS OTHERWISE STATED MAY BE USED, PROVIDED THAT FULL AND CLEAR CREDIT IS GIVEN TO EYHCS AND 15 WORDS OR LESS WITH APPROPRIATE AND SPECIFIC DIRECTION TO THE ORIGINAL CONTENT.

Day 14 – The Liver, The Kidney, The Heart, and The Brain: A Personal Ode to the Innards of My Life Force


Property of Dreamstime

In a earlier post I discussed my new fascination with dirt and innards. In this post, I will focus on the true nature of innards.

Intro

Innards are at the core of all things organs. Organs support the life-cycle of all living creatures. Organs need access to oxygen through the body’s vascular system. The source of the oxygen stems from the nutrients contained within the blood flowing through each vascular nerve.

Tainted blood also taints the life-cycle of all organs the blood comes into contact with as it travels throughout the body. In some cases, a blood transfusion or organ transplant maybe required to replenish, repair, or replace organs damaged by tainted blood. Once an organ has met an attack it receive extra care for a minimal of six months to five years, if not for a lifetime.

The Liver, The Kidney, The Heart, and The Brain: A Personal Ode to the Innards of My Life Force

The most common organs under attack include the liver, the kidney, and the heart. Each of these organs is responsible for cleaning the body of waste in one form or another. The all-powerful heart controls the speed and amount of blood flowing to and fro every organ in a living creature. There are four main chambers to the heart and all work together to keep us alive.

We rarely give thought to how we condition our heart as we grab a Big Mac and large fries, chain smoke those two or three packs of cigarette in a day or so, or create havoc everywhere we go by the swords we throw in the direction of the unexpected receiver of our angst and anger. We rarely give a second thought to the organs pumping life into us each and every millisecond of our lives on Earth as we spend countless dollars on the new trend of the hour. We rarely stop or pause to check the state of our innards even though they call out for us . The sharp pain in our chest is waved off with a finger as we pick up the next greasy sandwich. Or, the stabbing needle in our side as we jump up too quick from bed, forget about praying or thanking someone for another day, we mutter as we headed out the door. All the mundane things can wait for when I have more time. Our innards calls continual go unanswered until we cannot move at all.

Oh, let’s not forget the banging in our heads as we scream at the people we love and curse out the people we profess to love, but not like. Yes, it is me, proclaims the brain. I matter too. Did you think I would forget the one who holds the secrets of the past, present, and future of our very soul? Never, my brain knows me better than I know myself. How much better would we be if we fed our brains knowledge, power, peace, understanding, love, and all the things sweet dreams are made of, instead of the hate and garbage of our tattered society?

Sure we complain about the state of our economy, the state of our marriages, the state of our personal net worth, the state of our financial net worth, the state of all things we have the ability to change, if we change the way we treat the innards of our life force. Successful people rarely complain about their circumstances, because they devise strategic action plans to change or work around the obstacles in their path to victory. Powerful people are often the silent ones moving behind the scene quietly moving bishops and pawns into action as the king reaps the benefits. Successful and powerful people watch their life cycle and life force through a steady diet of truth, honest, and nutritious living. They feed their livers water for the soul. They feed their kidneys proteins and fiber to promote the cleansing cycle of their earthly vessels. They feed their hearts love and exercise to strengthen the engine of their life force. They feed their brains with positive affirmations to bolster their minds for the challenges ahead. They feed their innards and so their innards feed them the best life has to offer. When their innards call it is to say thank you instead of a call for help.

If you are still battling imaginary enemies, if you are still battling a systematic wall of never enough, if you are still battling sickness of the mind, the heart, or the soul, ask yourself one serious, honest, and non-judgmental question. What are you feeding the innards of the only life force you have?

EYHCS

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The  ”Day 14 – The Liver, The Kidney, The Heart, and The Brain: A Personal Ode to the Innards of My Life Force” (text) by EYHCS published under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License. The image in this post is the intellectual property of Dreamstime.

©EYHCS AND THE LATEST WORD, 2010-2015. UNAUTHORIZED USE AND/OR DUPLICATION OF THIS MATERIAL, INCLUDING, BUT NOT LIMITED TO YOUTUBE VIDEOS, PAPERS, AND OTHER ORIGINAL WORKS OF ART WITHOUT EXPRESS AND WRITTEN PERMISSION FROM THIS BLOG’S AUTHOR AND/OR OWNER IS STRICTLY PROHIBITED. EXCERPTS, LINKS, IMAGES THAT ARE THE COURTESY OF INDULGY.COM WITHIN POSTS UNLESS OTHERWISE STATED MAY BE USED, PROVIDED THAT FULL AND CLEAR CREDIT IS GIVEN TO EYHCS AND 15 WORDS OR LESS WITH APPROPRIATE AND SPECIFIC DIRECTION TO THE ORIGINAL CONTENT.

Day 7 – Redefining Dirt (Innards)


Canyon 239

I learned something new the other day while watching The Taste. In the culinary world, innards are called dirt. I never knew this.

Prior to watching The Taste, all my encounters with the word dirt held a negative connotation. “Go wash the dirt off your hands, off your face, and off yours shoes”, your mother would say. “The people over there spew nothing, but dirt”, your friend or pastor might say. “His mind is full of dirt”, the prosecutor, might say.

Yet, in the culinary world, dirt is considered a rare commodity and a necessary seasoning for the perfect taste. It makes me reconsider the meanings we have attached to the word dirt in our lives, in our families, in our churches, in our workplace, and in our relationships. In the words, of Marcus Samuelsson a six times James Beard winner, I am looking for a little dirt in 2015.

EYHCS

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The  ”Day 7 – Redefining Dirt (Innards)” (text) by EYHCS published under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License.

©EYHCS AND THE LATEST WORD, 2010-2015. UNAUTHORIZED USE AND/OR DUPLICATION OF THIS MATERIAL, INCLUDING, BUT NOT LIMITED TO YOUTUBE VIDEOS, PAPERS, AND OTHER ORIGINAL WORKS OF ART WITHOUT EXPRESS AND WRITTEN PERMISSION FROM THIS BLOG’S AUTHOR AND/OR OWNER IS STRICTLY PROHIBITED. EXCERPTS, LINKS, IMAGES THAT ARE THE COURTESY OF INDULGY.COM WITHIN POSTS UNLESS OTHERWISE STATED MAY BE USED, PROVIDED THAT FULL AND CLEAR CREDIT IS GIVEN TO EYHCS AND 15 WORDS OR LESS WITH APPROPRIATE AND SPECIFIC DIRECTION TO THE ORIGINAL CONTENT.

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 221 – Definitive Success


8.9

 

Success comes when you define what success really means for you.

Your definition of success cannot be usurped, violated, or misinterpreted by anyone.

Be definitive in creating your own success.

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Day 209 – Learning II


28

Each moment we live provides an opportunity for newness, for self-discovery, and for new beginnings.  The nomad people understood the phrase, “never live in the past”.

 

 

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Day 205 – Messenger Feet


Messenger's Feet

The interesting thing about this image is it does not cover the entire feet.

Just a thought!

 

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Day 203 – Other People


Amused

Personally, I believe we spend far too much energy concerned about other people.

People focused on you cannot be going anywhere you are, unless they are following you, so quit worrying.

 

 

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Day 200 – The Soul Experience


Into

The unseen becomes seen.

The unknown becomes known.

Having an experience changes you on the inside.

Living the experience changes you on the outside.

Being the experience changes not just you, but the people connected to you.

Change has come.

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Day 198 – Be Grateful and More Will Be Given


Gratitude

Broken people are only broken, because they are not grateful for what they have already been given.

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Day 196 – A World Without


Tempered Touch

A world without compassion is a world without hope.

A world without patience is a world without a future.

A world without God is a world without you.

 

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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 175 – Consumption


Calling

Your calling should never consume someone else’s destiny.

Instead, help them find their calling without consuming their pain.

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Day 170 – Daily Mind Twister


Alright

I am not who I was yesterday.  

I am already no longer who I am today, by the rise of tomorrow.  

However, I am uniquely who I was yesterday, today, and tomorrow.

 

 

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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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