Speaking Through Dreams

Usually when I dream, it’s very random. Scenes pass quickly and are very disconnected. I could be at school talking to a student, when suddenly the student changes into Justin Timberlake and we’re standing by a lake, and then a rocket is launching into the sky while giant frogs begin to attack my friends and me. I mean, nothing makes sense, it’s disjointed and awkward, and I quickly forget the details when I wake up in the morning.

But there have been a couple times in my life where I've dreamed very vividly. It’s one long running scene, I recognize the people with me, and I can remember every detail when I wake up. The first time I had a dream like that was last May.

In that dream, I was in a meeting room, when a gunman walked in and held a gun to a woman’s head. The man* next to me immediately began praying in tongues against the spirit of darkness. I joined in, and as we were praying over the gunman, the gunman began weeping. The other man and I led the gunman to the Lord, and I began prophesying that the man would have an impact in prison ministry someday.

When I woke up from this, I was shaken, but I knew that I had to write down the details as best I could. I had a strong sense that it was a prophetic dream, that there was a message in it from the Lord. I took the dream to a friend, and she interpreted it very quickly for me. The interpretations of dreams amaze me, because when they’re said, it’s like a light bulb sparks above my head. I always think, “Oh my word. That was so obvious! Why couldn't I come up with that?”  

The interpretation here was that I was learning how to operate in similar spiritual giftings to the man in my dream (namely, prophecy) and boldly walking in that. It also declared that I would be effective even when I felt penned in or trapped.

Wednesday night, I had another prophetic dream. It woke me up at 2:30 and I knew that I had to write it down. I could tell it was from the Lord because when I woke up the next morning, I remembered the dream so clearly that I didn't even need to look at what I had written in the middle of the night.

In this dream, I was standing at the side of a large room, maybe a dance studio or practice room, where lots of people were dancing. A girl was standing next to me, and she was spinning some kind of voodoo magic in her hands. As we watched everyone dance, it was clear that there was a light on a woman that wasn't on everyone else. It was the Holy Spirit resting upon her. So the girl took aim and cast her magic directly at the woman. It hit her in the leg, and she fell in pain. Immediately, I ran to her and began praying against the attack. (Interestingly enough, I wasn't praying for healing.) I ran out of words very quickly because the demonic presence was so strong. It was difficult to even think as I was praying. So I started praying in tongues, over and over, and soon everyone in the room gathered around, on their knees, and they started praying in tongues. The woman rose up, completely healed, and the attack was gone. The girl with the spell was gone, and everyone was safe. Another woman walked up, and she told us that she had never experienced speaking in tongues or warfare before, but she had been feeling like she was supposed to be connected to God somehow, and this experience sealed that for her.

This interpretation was much more personal to both the woman in the dream who was attacked and to me, so I won’t share all the details. But it showed me that I am supposed to be interceding more, and that if an attack comes, God will give me the discernment to know what to pray. It also was a confirmation that signs and wonders are for nonbelievers, and that I/we need to be walking more fully in the power and presence of God.

I guess I want to cap this by saying I am completely overwhelmed with my God. This God, who created the galaxies, earth, and every person who’s ever been conceived, loves His individual children enough to speak to them through dreams. He loves me enough to wake me up with a message. Both of these dreams, though they weren't pleasant in the moment, served to encourage and inspire me to seek after the Lord even more. God loves His people, and He will be glorified. I am honored that He chooses to give me tiny glimpses of those truths as I sleep. 

*I know who the people were in my dreams (with the exception of the "bad guys"), but I don't want to share those here.

Drowning in Grace

Recently, I've been feeling somewhat frustrated that I've been holding myself back from seeking God like I should be. This frustration came at me full-force Tuesday night, so I made a decision that come Wednesday's chapel at school, I would worship with everything that I had.

One of the songs we sang was "How He Loves" by the David Crowder Band. To be honest, I'm not a huge fan of this song as a worship song. It doesn't feel like direct worship; it feels like I'm talking to someone else about God, as opposed to talking TO God. However, I closed my eyes and tried to soak in the fact that God loves me, and as I sang the line "drawn to redemption by the grace in His eyes," I felt completely overwhelmed with His love. I could see the face of Jesus, and His eyes were swimming with the love and grace that He extends towards me, towards all of us. I can't describe how His eyes looked in my mind. But the next line says, "If His grace is an ocean, we're all sinking." And I felt a tangible presence on me, like it was pushing me down, sinking me into that grace and love.

I stayed on my feet, but when I opened my eyes, I felt like God wanted to use this time in chapel to tell ALL the students how much He loved them, to drown all of them in His grace. Sometimes, I truly doubt that I'm hearing from God, so I stayed where I was for a minute, but then I felt Him say, "Trust what you hear," which is a lesson He's been teaching me for the past few months. So I walked over to my principal and told him what I thought God was saying about showing His love to kids who had never truly felt it before. After I delivered the word to him, we watched an Easter video, took an offering, and then returned to our seats, so it felt a little like the moment had passed.

As I sat down, I sent a text to Deedra (who wasn't in the chapel service) that said, "There is such a heavy anointing for God's love to touch dry hearts." I felt jittery and excited, like I often feel when God is about to move. I wasn't sure if I was supposed to be the one who ushered it in or if I was supposed to wait on someone else. But the moment wasn't quite there, so I settled back to listen to our speaker.

Pastor Ednorleatha Long, a woman who walks in the prophetic and has a beautiful heart after God, delivered the message to our students. As she began speaking, I realized that she was aware of the same anointing. Her message was all about God's grace and love pouring out like rivers over our dry and stopped-up hearts. Wow! What a confirmation to me that I had heard the Lord clearly! She prayed this message over the students, and as we moved back to a place of worship, students began drifting away to pray. Some prayed by themselves, some with a friend, and some with a teacher or Pastor Long.

After that, as Mr. Lane closed out the service, he called me up to pray, which made total sense, because I sensed that I would speak at some point. I don't even remember what I prayed, because the Holy Spirit was speaking through me at that moment. I turned my own brain off and let Him lead. When everyone was leaving, I walked straight to Pastor Long, and she grabbed me in a hug. Mr. Lane said, "This is who gave me that word right before you spoke." And Pastor Long laughed and said that she knew it was the Lord, because He had given her the same word, and that I had prayed out exactly what God had laid on her heart.

Her message would not have changed if I had not had that word. Nothing about yesterday happened because God had spoken to me. I believe He spoke to me as a confirmation of His love over my own dry heart. What an amazing God we serve, that He would care enough to use moments like that to pour out His grace!

Transitioning

For anyone who is a part of my local life, you are aware that I recently switched churches. I had several reasons for this (really weighty) decision. Before I go into those, I want to give you a quick backstory.

From one church home...

I grew up (birth through sixth grade) attending the same church my parents and grandparents attended. For several reasons that are still slightly unknown to me, my family switched churches when I was in junior high. I had a tough time with that transition at first, but as I got involved with the youth group, the Greenville Free Methodist Church became home. For the past two decades, it's the only church I've known. And though it took me awhile, I finally became a member about four years ago. As an adult, I've been involved with several ministries. I volunteered with the youth group for almost ten years. I helped make coffee during the community cafe time. I was a Core Circle Connector for awhile, and I served on a committee when the leadership was looking to revamp some different ministries. I attended various Sunday School classes at different times, and I was a member of a few different small groups. I walked in the door each Sunday and felt such peace and gratitude to belong to such an inviting, Jesus-centered church. It helped that my best friend happened to be the worship leader, and the rest of my friends helped with the youth group as well. The FM church was so much more than a place to be on Sundays and Wednesdays; they were my family.

For the past four years, I've been teaching at Collinsville Christian Academy, which uses the building owned by Son Life Church. Before teaching at CCA, I didn't know anything about the school or church, except that I knew a handful of kids or families who had been affiliated with one or both at some point. I did know that I had some impression that the church was "weird." Whatever that meant. That makes me laugh now, because I had no basis for it, and because now that I know everyone, I realize that I was right! Haha :)

God led me to CCA, without question. And each year that I've stayed, I've been more and more invested in the students, families, communities, and ministries surrounding it. And since Ronnie and I both drive many miles west to work, we've talked for years about selling our house and moving that direction. I figured it was inevitable that at some point in the future, I would move west and therefore attend Son Life.

However, last fall, I felt God stir my heart for something new. And while it felt like the right thing to do, it was an incredibly hard reality to face. I never thought I would still be living in Bond County, still leading a discipleship group in Greenville, and decide to switch churches.

...to another church home.

I've mentioned in previous posts that last fall was a difficult time for me, spiritually, and that God was using that time to grow me. I was walking through some of those things with a friend from Son Life, and during that same time period, Son Life Church was doing a sermon series called Character Under Construction. Through several different incidents that I won't share here, I felt that God was calling me to attend SL for a couple months while I was walking through that process.

After those two months, I reassessed. Actually, I prayed, asked God lots of questions, and asked friends if they had any insight for me. I won't forget a text conversation I had with one of my discipleship girls. She told me that God wanted me to trust that I was hearing His voice for myself. At that moment, it was clear to me what He was saying. Then she asked, "What did you decide?" And I replied, "You already know." And it was true. While God was telling me that I was ready for the transition, He was also putting it on Haley's heart. This was confirmed in several other ways over the next few days, especially as I began to see God's hand at work for my family and me in this new place.

I still feel funny typing all of this for the world to see. Switching churches is a strange concept to me. It's never been a decision I've had to face before. I had no desire to leave a church home and family that's been nothing but amazing for over twenty years. In fact, I absolutely love where the Greenville church is heading, and I'm sad that I might not be around to see lots and lots of prayers come to fruition.

But I am so at peace. Because I'm already in Collinsville five days a week, I feel very invested in the town. I have connections with so many church families because I teach their children at school. I have some of the best relationships with other godly wives and mothers. And I know that my future is at this place. I'm still waiting for God to release me to "plug in"  like I had been at Greenville, but I know that the time is coming.

Eternal Echoes

I spent this past Friday night at a camp way out in the boonies of Waterloo with the Son Life youth group. Except for accidentally staying too late and spending the night on the world's most uncomfortable mattress, it was a great night. 

Aaron gave the message after a fantastic time of worship with one of the Greenville College touring teams. The theme for the weekend was Rise Up, and it had a superhero focus. (Sidenote: I have a messy house, lunch in the oven, a Barbie Fairytopia movie playing, and Jorie jumping around. This could be a VERY random and not well-written blog post ) Anyway, I jotted down a few lines that Aaron said that stuck with me. God was definitely getting my attention through this night. 

The first was when Aaron was talking about Superman and how he couldn't save his parents. Superman "had all the power; he just didn't have the discipline to know what to do with it." Last year, during what I've called the "year of fire," I felt like I (along with several of my discipleship girls) had been given a lot of "power." In other words, the Holy Spirit showed up among us and manifested quite frequently in different scenarios. Unfortunately, we lacked the discipline to always know what to do with it. And now, even though that same Spirit still lives inside us, the power is happening less frequently because of my own lack of personal devotion time with my Jesus. That was a convicting, yet hopeful statement for me to hear. 

To go along with it, Aaron made the statement that "God doesn't allow you to stay content." I'm definitely in a place of contentment right now. When last year's fire dwindled this past summer, it led me into an autumn of personal turmoil. I hit bottom, emotionally and spiritually, several times as God used a friend to help counsel me through some of my past wounds and hurts. It was difficult, it was painful, and I felt like I was drowning through much of it. However, it was also a time of growth and rising from the ashes. Since Christmas, I've felt peace and rest in many of those areas. 

But God doesn't allow us to stay content. 

So now is the season for me to "press in" once again (as much as I hate that phrase, I am starting to understand its meaning, and it's exactly what I should be doing). I want to begin pursuing my relationship with Jesus more than I have before. I want to learn more about His love and begin to love Him more than I have. 

And finally, Aaron talked about how each of us has a calling that God has placed on our lives and on our futures. He used a personal story to explain that sometimes, our calling comes directly from God and doesn't have to be placed on us through a word of prophecy from someone else. And I felt the confirmation, more than I have in years, that my calling right now is to teach and minister at CCA. In August of 2009, when I asked God if I should take the job that I was offered, His response was, "To this you were called." Nothing could have been clearer. And though the last four years haven't been the easiest, each season is shaping me into fulfilling that calling placed on my life. Since that time, I've also been given the word that I have the mantle of revivalist (in fact, I think Aaron spoke that word over me at a CCA chapel). I don't take either of those callings lightly, but I haven't been pursuing them with the passion that I should. 

During the worship time Friday night

After those words of conviction and inspiration, we went back into a time of worship. As we were singing and praising, Deedra offered an altar call for the spirit of the martyr, that the students would be willing to lay down their reputations, relationships, and possibly their lives to pursue His presence and to put more weight on the eternal than on the temporary. Every student knelt at the altar while we prayed over them. As we laid hands on them, Deedra prayed out that their voices would be, in her own words, "eternal echoes that resound in the heavenly places, where we're aware of the cloud of witnesses and the angels that surround His throne." 

As she prayed that, her voice began to literally echo. I don't mean normal microphone reverb; I mean her voice echoed supernaturally, and I "saw" it bounce through halls and cavernous spaces, off of pillars and through great big rooms. When I told her about that, she said that she had heard it too. She later told me that she felt an angelic presence all around as we were worshiping. I believe it. 

More things happened. More than I could write, and my words wouldn't do them justice anyway. 

As an English teacher, I know I need to wrap this in a tidy conclusion, but I don't have a great one. So I'm going to end with this statement: I choose to lay down everything that I hold close to pursue God and the calling that He's placed on my life with a passion I've never felt before. 

You are my cloud of witnesses. 

A Moment of Dawn

Time for another confession. Sometimes, when I'm driving, I take pictures of the sky. 

This morning's sunrise

Forgive me, police officers. But I live in a very shaded town, and the open highway past the first Highland exit is absolutely perfect for sunrise pictures. Plus, with the new iPhone, it only takes one click of a button to take a picture, so it's fairly quick and safe. 

This morning, the sky was beautiful. Dark clouds surrounded the sun, so it looked as if the sun was literally breaking through the horizon. In the past couple months, I've experienced some breathtaking sunrises. That's the one perk of driving to school before most of the world is awake. 

January 24 sunrise

And it made me think.God paints these beautiful skies for everyone to enjoy. Some mornings, I drive to school, worshiping His creativity and faithfulness. But other mornings, the sky is rainy, dreary, gray, and cloudy.

Does God sit back on those mornings, paintbrush in hand, and say, "Oh, shoot. I was going to paint the sunrise, but it's raining. Drats, foiled again!" (Because, apparently, God speaks like the villains in old Scooby Doo episodes.)

February 8 sunrise

No way. God isn't surprised by rain. It doesn't block Him in any way. Just because I can't see the sunrise doesn't mean that it's not there. It is. Somewhere beyond the clouds of my vision, there's a gorgeous sunrise. I just can't see it because of the circumstances standing in my way. 

This is the time for the parallel between the literal rain and sunrises and the metaphorical, but it's almost too obvious for words. So I'll leave you with the chorus of a Brandon Heath song called (quite serendipitously) "Sunrise."

All you need is a sunrise

Just a moment of dawn

If you're lost in the twilight

Close your eyes and move on

When you're tired in the waiting

Even though it's gonna take you

A little more time 

Just a little more time the sun's gonna find you.

Prepare Ye the Way

Total confession moment: I don't read the Bible very regularly.

Pick your jaws back up, smart-alecks. You're not surprised.

I try. I do. I go through seasons where I'm awesome at it. I read every night. God speaks to me. We have conversations. It's lovely.
...and then I don't pick my Bible up for months. I have a lot of excuses and justifications for why not, but none of them really hold up. But I can tell a difference from those seasons when I'm dwelling in the Word and when I'm not. And I like the seasons of devotion much better.

Anyway, all of that is to tell you about what I read last night. I'm in a lazy season, but last night I stared at my nightstand, and I saw the Karen Kingsbury book that I'm in the middle of and my new Bible that I got for my birthday. As much as I wanted to immerse myself back in the lives of Dayne and Katy, I felt that stirring in my soul. You know the one... it's that little voice from God, whispering, "I miss you."

My 2013 birthday Bible

So I picked up my brand-spankin' new, beautiful raspberry-colored, paperback, silver-edged, medium-sized Bible that Kristen gave me for Christmas (it's kind of our "thing." She buys me Bibles; I read them occasionally). And I randomly opened it to... the gospel of John, chapter 1.

Fancy that. The chapter that this entire blog is, literally, "centered" on. ANYWAY... (am I ever going to get to my point?) I started reading from verse 35 to 37, which say, "The next day John (the Baptist) was there again with two of his disciples. When he saw Jesus passing by, he said, 'Look, the Lamb of God!' When the two disciples heard him say this, they followed Jesus."

Whoa. Anyone else catch that? John the Baptist (hereafter referred to as JB, though not to be confused with the amazingly talented young singer with the same initials) had groupies. But then he pointed at Jesus, and his groupies deserted him for Jesus. And JB was okay with that. More than okay. It was his LIFE-LONG GOAL for that to happen.

The entire first chapter of John talks about JB. He was a man completely set apart for God. He's described as one who "came as a witness to testify concerning that light, so that through him all might believe" (1:7). And the writer explains in no uncertain terms that JB wasn't the light himself; he was just a witness. When the Levites asked him if he was the Messiah, JB answered, "I am the voice of one calling in the wilderness, 'Make straight the way for the Lord'" (1:23).

JB's entire life had been leading up to the moment when he could point at the Messiah and say, "That's Him!" When he was able to do that, his mission was accomplished. JB's own followers turned and began walking after Jesus, and the story of Jesus's ministry began.

I feel like I would have been a little put-out at the moment. I probably would have said something really dumb, like, "Hey, where are you guys going? Come back! I can keep telling you about Jesus! He's going to do some really cool things. I read about them in Isaiah. Let me tell you about all the prophecies He's going to fulfill."

Obviously, that doesn't even make sense. Why would people want to hear secondhand information when they could follow the real thing? But don't we expect that sometimes? Especially those of us who work in ministry. Are we ever tempted to pat ourselves on the back and think, "Wow, I'm doing a really great job of discipling (or preaching, or praying, or leading, or teaching)," when really it's not about us at all?

What is the goal of my life? Am I pointing people to Jesus?

It's SO not about me. Or you. Not convinced? Go back to the theme verse, John 1:3. It's only, always about Jesus.

Throwback Wednesday: Surrender

A little over five years ago, my pastor at the GFMC preached a sermon series called "Harnessing the Power to Change." This was during a tumultuous time in my spiritual life, and God definitely used these sermons to do a transformative work in my heart. I wanted to share with you something I wrote during that time. These are my thoughts from October of 2008:

All the things in my life have led me to this point. I may not like the person I’ve been in the past, but I’m starting to like the person I’m becoming. God has been so good.

My xanga profile pic from 2008

I’ve had a xanga for well over three years, and I had a livejournal for the two years previous to that. I recently reread most of both. It’s been an incredible thing to see my musings, thoughts, writings, and actions from the past five years. Sometimes I made myself laugh, sometimes I remembered people or situations fondly, but most of the time I disgusted myself. I have been childish, immature, jealous, selfish, and stubborn. I’ve been judgmental, vulgar, angry, cynical and condescending. I’ve been inconsistent, arrogantly feeling tight with God one moment and defying Him the next. I’ve been analytical, unsure, broken, insecure, and faltering. In short, I’ve fallen short.

I’m grateful that I write. I’m grateful that I’ve kept careful record of the person I was. Of the activities in which I’ve participated. of the people with whom I’ve associated. Because knowing who I was will allow me to know who I am and who God wants me to be.

Doug’s sermon series on harnessing the power of change has been what it was meant to be, transforming. Last week's was on the power of cataclysm—what it means to surrender the self. Through the story of Jonah, Doug espoused three lessons that Jonah himself did not necessarily adhere to. Jonah was the ultimate "what-not-to-do" in terms of surrendering.

The first: let a specific desire of yours be overpowered by a specific command of God's.
He gave a few common desires as samples: to be liked, to be loved, to avoid pain, to be right, to acquire, to be noticed, for comfort, for pleasure. When I read my old journal entries, I realize that most of my activities and thoughts have centered on wanting to be loved, wanting to be right, and wanting pleasure. So now, as I receive and understand God's commands, I must be prepared to surrender those domineering desires in my life.

The second lesson: surrender not only to God's specific commands but also to His permitted outcomes.
This one's much tougher. I may be able to say, "Okay, Lord. I surrender my desire to be loved so that I may obey what you've told me." But it will be much tougher to accept that if I obey, I may not be loved by who I want to love me. I must adapt my hopes and expectations.

The third: surrender to God's passion to be gracious to anyone no matter whom, no matter when.
This one seems like it should be the easiest. It only involves loving others and extending the grace of God to others. I’m not so good at that. For someone who only desires to be loved, I certainly have a rough time loving others outside of who I deem "important" to me. But as Doug said, grace received but not expressed becomes grace forfeited.

I’ve been given a formula. I must obey, I must adapt, and I must love. And right now, right here, I choose to surrender. I surrender my desire to be loved, as hard as that is to even type, in order to follow any command God throws at me. I surrender my hopes and expectations for whatever the outcome may be. And I choose to love.

God, do what you will.

10/6/8