Wednesday, April 2, 2014

Simeon: Prophesying










And Joseph and His mother marveled
at those things which were spoken of Him.
Then Simeon blessed them,
and said to Mary His mother,
"Behold, this Child is destined
for the fall and rising of many in Israel,
and for a sign which will be spoken against
(yes, a sword will pierce
through your own soul also),
that the thoughts of many hearts
may be revealed."
Luke 2:33-35, NKJV







Have you ever walked up to a total stranger in a crowd and delivered a Word from the Lord to them?  Yeah, me neither.  On the other hand, I have had total strangers (some of them stranger than others) walk up to give me a word.  The only thing I have to say about that is, If you're gonna do it, you better make sure it's a Word from God and not out of your own imagination.
 
I believe in hearing from God.  I believe I have heard the audible voice of God.  One time only, but no one will ever be able to convince me I didn't hear it.  Sometimes I wish I hadn't.  But there it is.  I believe God speaks to me regularly through the indwelling presence of the Holy Spirit, who is there to teach and reveal and remind, convict and convince, comfort and guide and guard me.  God speaks to me regularly through His written Word, regardless of when it was written or to whom it was originally sent.  His Word is living and powerful and sharper than a two edged sword.  It's always a good word.  And God speaks to me through other people.
 
Sometimes it's a sermon from some other preachers.  Sometimes it's a song.  And sometimes it's an individual coming to me under Divine appointment.
 
I remember the evangelist that called me out as a 16 year old boy and proclaimed, "When the anointing shall break forth into thy life, and thou shalt begin to bring glad tidings unto others, thou shalt know that the anointing of my Spirit is upon thee."  There was lots more to it than that, and some of it I'm still waiting for, but that sentence spoken over my life was literally fulfilled while I was preaching the first message I ever received from the Lord.  It wasn't my first sermon; I'd written and delivered a couple dozen sermons by then.  But never under the anointing.  The anointing literally "broke forth", and I knew it.
 
I remember one of my close friends and confidants who said to me, "It may seem like the sixth lap on the seventh day, and the walls still look the same.  But they are coming down!"  If you don't know what that means, you need to reread the story of Joshua and the battle of Jericho.  To top it all off, that was in the morning, I heard the audible instruction of God that afternoon, and shortly afterward I was in an altar service where the evangelist encouraged us to shout, because the walls were coming down.  I did, and they did.  But that's a whole 'nother story.
 
I remember the preacher passing through who got me on the phone at the church on New Year's Eve and said, "Pastor, I just felt led to tell you that everything you've been praying to happen, God's going to do it this year."  And God did.
 
I remember the old preacher's widow from Argentina, who I met (humanly speaking) by coincidence, who grabbed my arm, eyes blazing, and quoted to me from Isaiah, "What does it say?  You shall walk through the water and not be drowned, and through the fire and not be burned.  For I the Lord am with you wherever you go."  What she couldn't have possibly known was the chapter of my life that was unfolding as she spoke, and that for months and even years, those were the exact words my own mother used to encourage me.
 
I could go on and on and on about the random words people have given me that I knew were from the Lord.  Suffice it to say, I believe God speaks through people.  But the flip side of that is sometimes people take it upon themselves to speak for God.
 
Like the guy who saw compasses and anchors on my shirt and tried to interpret what that meant for my life.  Or the guy who, while prophesying randomly over a church crowd, called me out and asked, "You're in some kind of ministry right?"  I wanted to tell him, "You're the prophet, you tell me."  But when I nodded, he proceeded to tell me something about 2 months and 2 weeks, and I don't remember much else.  It was just too strange.  There were parts of it that might have had a broad application, but I'm still shaking my head over it.  Or the kid who was all zeal and no wisdom who met me and wanted to tell me what a great ministry God was calling me to...without realizing I had been called before he was ever born, and was currently serving in the call of God--the greatest place a person can ever be.  I learned a long time ago to quit looking for what was "next" and be content with what was "now."
 
All I'm saying is, if you are going to speak into someone's life on behalf of God, you had better be certain it's from God.

Tuesday, April 1, 2014

An April Fool

 
I'm reminded of my Dad today.  After all, it is April the first.
 
April the first was the day Daddy met Jesus.
 
It was 1976, 38 years ago today.  Dad was 27 years old, and had been running full speed through the wild life for a very long time.  There's no need to go into a fully detailed description of his exploits.  Suffice it to say, the man was a sinner in every sense of the word.  A man determined to split hell wide open with a grin.  And then Jesus came.
 
Dad was working construction in the Texas Panhandle, paired with a master electrician who was born again, Spirit filled, and on fire for Jesus.  Upon meeting, Hugh looked at my Dad and said, "I can tell by the way you're talking that you don't know the Lord."
 
Dad's response:  "What the *&%$@# do you mean I don't know the Lord?"  Enough said.
 
We don't know how long it took, but day after day after day Dad was confronted with the consistent witness of a man who wasn't going to give up on sharing Jesus Christ with someone who so desperately needed Him.  Even if Dad didn't know it.  Every day, Dad would come home so angry about the "Jesus freak" at work, swearing he was going to kill him and hide the body where no one would find it.  Incidentally, it wasn't the only murder Dad was planning.
 
But one particular Wednesday, Dad came home and something was different.  He was still angry.  Furious, in fact.  He and Mom got into a fight.  He threw me into the cab of his pickup and we went for a drive into the country, where he parked in the middle of a prairie dog town and took out a joint to calm his nerves.  This might be one of my earliest memories; I can remember standing on the seat beside him begging him not to light up.  He kept elbowing me away saying, "Shut up!  Just shut up!"  But instead of smoking it, he tossed it out the window and drove back to town.
 
Mom was at the kitchen sink with the dishes when he came back in.  Wordlessly, he went into our bathroom, filled the cast-iron, claw-footed tub and sank nose deep in the water.  And there he began to weep.  The daily dose of gospel broke through the hardened heart of a man far from God, and things began to change.  After a while, he called Mom to the tub and asked her to find the number for a certain church 15 miles away.  "Tell them we're on our way."
 
Church was over by the time Dad pulled into the parking lot of Lamar Full Gospel Assembly in Pampa, Texas, but there was a light on in the foyer, and a man standing at the door waiting to let them in.  Dad and Mom were taken to the pastor's study, where Pastor Gene Allen and a handful of others had gathered to meet them.  And at first sight, my dad looked intently at that pastor and said, "Preacher, I just want to know one thing.  Can you lead a man to God?"  Gene Allen could; and that night he did.
 
On April Fool's Day, 1976, God saved my Daddy, transformed him from a sinner into a saint, led him from darkness into the Light of life, lifted him out of the miry clay of a ruined and wasted life and gave him new footing on the Rock that is Jesus Christ.  And Dad never looked back.  For 22 years, he pursued the Lord with every ounce of strength, with every fiber of his being, until the Lord called Him home.
 
So whenever April First approaches, I'm always reminded of what the powerful grace of God did for me when he saved my Dad.  Thank you Jesus!