There are many, many titles I could give to this blog post. One of which would be--my calling. And that is what I am going to talk about. My gift, my calling. We all have them; they are special gifts from God. Ephesians 4:11-12 discusses these specific calls or gifts from God.
So, there I was minding my own business at Triennial, thinking I had heard from God, ready to digest and mull over what he'd said to me, when lo and behold he spoke again. This time, though, it was through a memory, a flashback to a time over 30 years ago. It happened at the same time my husband had his come-to-Jesus meeting, which I've shared about in my blog titled "A Calling Fulfilled."
I shared the story about how a pastor spoke into my husband's life. Well, that same pastor spoke into my heart that night, too. I've just never shared it before. Ever. Oh, I've talked about what he said to me about being patient, kind, and understanding with my husband as God was growing him, but I've always trailed off, saying — he said a few other things too — and then I'd never finish that sentence.
Well, at Triennial, on Saturday night, he reminded me of just what that pastor had said to me. He said the strangest thing--he leaned in and whispered something into my ear so that only I could hear it. And what he said sent chills down my spine, because there was no way in the whole wide world he could have known. You see, when I pray, and when I hear God's voice deep down in my heart--he calls me daughter. I know that sounds crazy, but he does. This pastor could have started out his sentence in so many other ways, but he didn't. He said, " Daughter. So when this pastor said, "Daughter," he caught my attention. And then he said something else--something that I already knew was real and active and working in my life, but also something that was so scary to me. He said, " Daughter, you are God's weeping prophet. And he sees every tear you shed. Funny thing is--I wasn't crying at the time. But the minute he said that, the tears began to flow; I couldn't have held them back if I tried.
Yes, I am a daughter of the Most High God. Yes, I cry--when I talk about God, when I pray to God, when I think about God, when I sing to God--I cry. I also have that whole prophet gifting thing going on. Oh yes, I do. I have as far back as I can remember. Dreams, visions, the whole nine yards. And, as I stood there during our worship service at Triennial, I realized that I had not been moving in my gift. Not really. Not in the way he wanted me to. Why? Because I didn't want anyone to think I was weird. I wanted to just be accepted. I wanted people to like me.
The Holy Spirit convicted me that night. Basically, in a nutshell, he said--I've called you. Now own it. Please don't misunderstand me--I have been hearing God's voice all along, and when appropriate, I've spoken up. I just haven't been moving out in the way God wants me to. I've sought man's approval over God's, and for that I am ashamed.
I've decided to share a couple of examples as to how God speaks to me, just for clarification. I always think it helps to have something to visualize. So here's the first story.
It was a Sunday morning, and I was getting ready for church. As I was praying/singing to the Lord, I saw a picture flash through my mind of a friend of mine. She was sitting with a razor blade lying against her wrist. Fear shot through me, and as I finished up getting ready, I could not get that picture out of my head. I prayed for her all through church, and yes, she was there. I wondered — what do I do with this information God has given me? As the service was coming to an end, our pastor asked the elders to come forward and pray for those who wanted prayer. Being an elder, I went up front. And so did my friend. She got in my line. She wanted me to pray for her. As she stood in front of me, I reached out and held her hands. I stood there quietly praying for several minutes with tears rolling down my cheeks. And then I boldly prayed over her concerning what I had seen that morning while praying at home. Yes, she said, I sat there, telling God that I was done, I had had it, I was going to kill myself because no one understood the pain I was going through. We prayed up there at that altar for a long, long time. God intervened, and she is doing great — all these many years later.
To me, that's what a prophetic call is all about--it confirms what's already in our hearts, gives us encouragement, and serves as a warning. A word of wisdom, knowledge, or confirmation. That's the call that God has given me. I did not ask for this gift. However, I will accept it, walk in it, and share and speak out what he wants me to.
The next example might sound silly, but it really did happen just the way I'm telling you. We had just moved back to a small town we had lived in for 8 years, so I already had lots of friends in the area. As I was praying one morning, I heard God tell me to get ready and go to the mall. I know, I get the irony here! But, I did not go into any stores; I just felt led to walk through that 2-story mall, so up and down the corridors, I went. Up ahead of me, I heard someone almost scream out OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD. As I looked towards the woman yelling, I realized that I knew her, so I started walking towards her. She threw herself into my arms and began to tell me the story of how she had been so desperate, so despondent, so emotionally undone. She had prayed that morning and asked God to bring her someone she could trust, talk to, and pray with. Immediately, she thought of me but knew I had moved away years before; she did not know I had recently moved back into town. When she saw me, she knew that she was witnessing a miracle right before her eyes. She was so excited and thankful that God loved her so much that he told me to go to that mall, on that day, at that hour. God met us there that day, and we sat right there on a bench on the second floor of a huge mall, crying, praying, and praising God. Yep, it was nothing short of miraculous. But that's the kind of God we serve.
So, that's my calling. Prophetic and prayerful, and God wants me to move out in this gift more than I do right now. He's calling me to walk a truer walk of faith. And I will. As scary as it seems to me, as stretching and uncomfortable and disruptive as it might get--I have to be obedient. And I will. I will continue to be that weeping prophet for the rest of my life because that's what God has called me to.
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