Tag Archives: #dream

Accidental Dream; Part B, Not a Joke – April 1, 2017

First, let me backup and let you know, I don’t like animals.  In fact, I have not liked them since Jr. High as a general rule.  I don’t like their fur, my allergies act up, I didn’t like being kicked and bit by that horse when I worked at a horse farm for my first job, which still affects my hip and glute muscles to this day; I also didn’t like how I felt when my dog and guinea pig died; therefore, decided I never wanted to love an animal again.

As I got older, it less became about the trauma of my hip popping and difficulty sitting for long periods of time, or the pain of losing a pet, it became about not getting slobber on my suit pants, tears in my nylons or having my expensive pumps gnawed on.

That being the case, a dream of me loving and enjoying animals all over me, is out of character for me in the last 18 years – and it was wonderful!

My husband and I believe that the dream constitutes 24 months; each egg is a month.  We believe the first month is the month of April, with the chick representing Easter-time.  The remaining 24 months will bring blessings, in contrast to the last 24 months’ eggs being mostly broken.  We believe a raise is in my future with the goose representing some aspects of wage increase for either myself or both me and my husband.

The theme park, represents pleasure over the next period and with my new boss also living next to the theme park, it’s fair to say he’ll participate in making that happen with my work-life.

Now, lets see if that is what we interpreted correctly.  As so many things with Dear Holy Spirit, dream interpretations can be tricky, so here’s to me stepping out in Faith that the next 24 months will replace the broken months of the last 2 years, and the blessings will be multiple.

Accidental Healing during #TheShack; March 4, 2017

My husband and I had been seeing a fertility specialist.

It wouldn’t be much of a surprise to some of my closest family members that we had been seeking help in the fertility field, since I had not had  “full stop” since that awful visit to the ER where we discovered not only was I losing my appendix that night, but also our child, in a double emergency operative procedure.

That was back in July 2014 – it’s now spring 2017.

My husband was supportive of us getting fertility help, but with it came the widening sadness that so much in our life in the last couple years seems to come with exacerbated effort.  Anyone on the outside would be amazed, if not envious, of our highlight reel; on the inside, however, we had been feeling that, although we were blessed, it came with a cost and the cost of fertility treatments came with a “funding options” pamphlet that I folded neatly in my second-hand designer bag.

It took us a month to save up for the 20 blood tests they wanted to take, which concerned my husband.  He worried for me on the other side of several of those test results.  They were as expected, given there had been no visits from Aunt Flow in year(s); my hormones were not only dormant, but had apparently forgotten I was NOT in my mid-forties.

I had at least expected a call from my doctor to console me, but with technological advances, I received a text notification instead that she had prescribed a drug intended to “kick start” my system again.  In her expert opinion, the next phase was IVF-light, get some hormones going and the drugs were waiting for me at CVS.

I didn’t have the heart to pick them up.   It felt weird too.  I was scared.  I was a little hurt at God, even.  Not that IVF can’t be considered a God-thing, I mean, one of my best friends growing up had to use IVF and her family and church were all okay with it.  Frankly, if it wasn’t supported by the church, it may have spurned me to pick them up – I resist the little rebellion that occasionally rears its head now again that I’m through the “change” (who am I kidding, anytime).  Struggling to survive in a hostile(ish) work environment, struggling to lose weight, struggling to stabilize in a new city, find friends or a hairdresser even, … struggling to pick up a prescription was just one more struggle that I didn’t want to happen.  If God wanted us to have children, I needed a sign -Old Testament, Gideon-style sign.

Last night my spirits were particularly low after another exhausting blow with work.  My husband finally bent and said if we didn’t hear from God in the next two weeks, we should start looking for a new one.  Discouragement, on top of everything else, we were never going to get “healthy enough” to stabilize our lives for a family if there wasn’t some sign, some break through.

Today, my husband promised that going to the movie “The Shack” would lift my spirits.

I lifted an eyebrow, “lift my spirits, eh?”  Clearly he had NOT read the book.  For me, it had been awhile, and I don’t remember finishing it due to the premise of the first portion being too depressing for me to press on to the end.  That same premise my husband was going to make me watch through to the end. – “Yay...”

He made the right choice.

Through the movie, I started to make peace with God again; as ever faithful He is, “Papa” gave me a sign.

Aunt Flow came to visit.

My husband and I both cried.  I’m crying still.  Years, blood tests proving only modern medicine may be able to reverse the hormonal clock.

I never know when God’s going to bless, or how, but even in the bad times, I can trust Him to be faithful.

I was accidentally healed while watching “The Shack“.

 

 

Accident 701; Around January 2016

Diary,

Today I saw the most incredible vision of Your face and the meaning of Communion.

In church today, at Los Osos Christian Fellowship, I was engaged in worship when I asked the Holy Spirit to show me the meaning of Communion.

Before my eyes, I saw the most beautiful face.  Eyes shut with gentle lids, not forced or partially open.  The gentleness of the closed eyes, like someone sleeping were slowly wrapped in a cloth that reminded me of muslin as it was placed across the closed eyes.  I could hear weeping and tears were dripping on the cloth that was then wrapping around the chin and mouth.  I became so distraught that my tears also began to drop onto the face.  I noticed four distinct women crying and gently wrapping the face, their tears soaking the cloak.  Behind the women, I saw three men putting their hands on the shoulders of the women as they wrapped His face.   I wanted desperately the wrapped face to wake up and comfort us, because it was at this moment I realized I was seeing His face being wrapped and the pain in my heart at such a final act, a finality to what had happened was all there.  I’ve never felt such heartache even though once I knew it was Him and He was to be raised, it still impacted the core of my very being – nothing television, preaching or reading about the sacrifice fully impacted me what the true meaning of his death meant – it was final, hopeless and heartbreaking, and loving.

My eyes opened, with the auditorium blurred with my tears hitting the carpet and the pastor, Josh Nash held communion.

I get it now, thank you Dear Jesus for what you did and giving me a small glimpse of he fulfillment of what you did to save us, to have relationship with You.

 

 

 

Pressing in on the Vision; February 11, 2017

Work had been both good and awful when my husband offered up that we should pray and ask Dear Jesus for assistance with what our next direction should be with work.

Every time I go for a Job Interview, I almost inevitably get an offer and always for more than what I was asking.  Last Sunday, going for another interview seemed like a better option for me than sticking it out where I currently work.  My husband, however, begged to differ and turned on the worship music and started prayer.

Prayer isn’t always easy – sometimes my anger with God, myself and my situation cloud my ability to reach out and connect.  Sometimes, I don’t even want an answer from God, because inevitably I may not like it.

My husband turned up the worship music.

I sat and wallowed.

He started praying out loud.

I wallowed some more.

My husband sat in front of me, put his hands on my head and prayed.

I finally prayed.  I pressed in.

The first image I received was of a lion.  This lion was drinking at a watering-hole.  When out of the water came a tiger and the tiger ate the lion.  I was sad for the lion because I identified with this lion and tears came to my eyes.  Suddenly the lion burst out of the tiger, like confetti out of a balloon.

tiger-eating-lion

The second image I received was of a gold cone with square sides.  It was as though it was a small, golden pyramid but with only three sides.  A hammer came out of the sky and it smashed against this golden, three-sided object until it bent and chipped away.  After the smashing, the golden, three sided object became a triangular golden crown with jagged edges that was presented to me on a black, velvet pillow.  My first feelings upon seeing it was were that it was so jagged and beat up, followed by the awe that the more this object was beaten, the more it shone and reflected the light.  What a crown, thought.  I have not been able to find a picture that can accurately, or remotely reflect the vision.——-

I didn’t get the answer I was looking for, but my husband is pretty sure the Tiger eating the lion is inevitably me.  My current boss will no doubt get the better of me and I should brace for impact, but be comforted in that I’ll rise out of the situation.

As for the crown?  Well, I hope it means that God is tied even closer to my husband and I, and that we’re the crowning trifecta.  That the beatings we’ve taken only make us stronger and more a reflection of what God wants us to be.

Keep posted.  We’ll see.

 

Seasonality as it is in Accounting and Spirituality; January 8th, 2017

Diary,

Seasonality is a term we use in accounting and business using to explain increases or decreases in the profit and loss of a company which are due to seasonal changes, and not symptomatic of problems in the company.

To me, the term can also translate into my walk with Dear God in that sometimes we’re in a period that is seasonal, and it isn’t due to God’s failure or our failure or successes; the season simply dictates the outcomes of our finances, relationships and health and how loudly we can hear Dear God.

This is probably one of the most difficult things I’m wrapping my mind around right now…

If I look back at periods of my life where I beat the ground looking to God why there’s delays in movements and shaking my fist at the sky, but I took into account the seasonal affects, it would have allowed me to have more rest when going through some of the ups and downs.  Some the times I thought I must have been a complete failure to not have had more money in my savings account, or that promotion that I was expecting was delayed, or children when my friends were having them, are among some of the most difficult ups and downs that, as far as my life is concerned, can be attributed to seasonality.

For instance, when many of my friends were being mothers, I was building international business; our seasons were different, but not any less important – despite what the World, or even members of the Church, would pressure us or say.

On that same vein, my husband and I were talking about the season we’re in now; season of rest.  Today we were sitting on the couch talking over the weekend we had, last night I was upset and tears were flowing because I felt that even though everything is going really well as I finished off the year making triple what I did last year at the same time, and we were relocated and stabilized, but I still felt that I was a failure.

How?

Well, he understood how I could look at it that way.  Essentially year ago, we had our own company that was making 7 and 8 figure deals, we were traveling with 12 employees to locations as exotic as UAE, Australia, Germany, New Orleans and Vegas.  Last year this time we were piping hot and speaking with investors, stressed about our prognosis but still listening to Dear Lord about what the next steps were.  Then, in about three weeks from now, this time last year, Dear God asked us to close our doors and move in a different direction.  We reluctantly, painfully, obeyed.

Today my husband reminded me how Paul used to be Saul and he was the leader of the Synagogue, esteemed among men who, when God asked him to, left everything (basically forced by Dear Father blinding him temporarily and sending someone to talk sense into the man) despite what his previous peers would have admired, went, and had a humble tent making business while becaming a minister to what would be the first generation of Christians and one of the most prominent authors of the New Testiment.

It’s hard to imagine, not at all insinuating we are like Paul, but in the same way we were heading an International company, we had name, title, influence, and we were suddenly asked to enter into a new season.  To everyone’s logical mind – why would we go from having influence, ownership of our destiny, stability to suddenly a humble earning, enough to keep the debtors at bay, but giving up the rest?  For Paul, it’s more obvious, he had influence but he was a murderer.  For us, it’s not obvious yet, but from what I can learn about Paul – it went on to glorify God even though to certain men of power, it didn’t make a lick of sense.

Someday I hope to see the sense in our transition, as we are able to make such clear sense of Paul’s.  One thing is for certain, we listen and we are grateful to wait in this season of rest.

Build My Spiritual Home, Part B; November 27, 2016

When I woke up I told my husband about my dream.  Houses are a common theme in my dreams when the Lord speaks to me, and this time it was no different.  Time in prayer, looking at some of Doug Addison’s literature we felt we understood what the dream meant (– the part I’ll share).

>>>>>>>>>>>

The investor is our Dear savior.  He wants us all to take care of our spiritual house, and there’s no limit to the budget he gives us to build a house in his name.  The fact that my husband was adamant I build my own house, is a statement to the growth of our relationship – he’s not just responsible for my spiritual growth, but I should break my own ground, make my own stand on what Dear Jesus is for me and set my own boundaries.

Boundaries.  One of the most difficult things to establish as an adult.  How many times in the last 20 years have I prostrated myself before the wrong person, or let someone too far into my life to take a stake in my home!  How many times had I let my mother and friends between me and my spouse?  Or put my boss before my husband?  How many corrections have I had to make before I realized that standing up for what’s right, trumps that raise or closing that deal?   Knowing what my ethics are and maintaining that line and setting guard to those boundaries before I wind up at a strip club to close a deal with a male client…

The boundaries I set in my new house was to put doors up between the most intimate parts of my house – not letting anyone in my bedroom, kitchen or back rooms.  Even with my parents whom I love, I boundaried them.  I honored them by allowing them a place to permanently decorate my home, and even provided my father the most spectacular pillar when you come in the front door – however, I still controlled how far they could go (limiting my mother to ensuring the walls were white (clean), and fixing my father’s art so it was appropriate in the front entry), hosted them and then let them go to their own home, without annexing the space for themselves.

Dear Jesus even lets us decide what fruit we bear in our orchard.  I chose nuts, so that I could take the time to build the infrastructure.  I can’t help but believe it was Dear God asking me what I’d rather have right now, and I wanted something that would bear fruit over the next 7 years, giving me more time to grow my internal infrastructure with Him and my husband.  He left it up to me, and I choose a longer growth period.

My view is also important to Him.   He is personally taking it upon himself that if I’m building a spiritual house with Him, that he’ll take care of the details right down to the view.  Someone else’s hill around me needs help, He’ll be there for them just as he was there for me.

As for the dollar value of 18 million, I believe it must do with my parent investing 18 years into my life and in that investment, 20 years later (almost) they feel they have a say in how I build my house.  But this is my house, and my parents will be honored in it.  I even set up one of the most beautiful tributes to my parents to give them homage.  But this is my house and I will build it with my husband and the Lord – I cannot have more builders than them in the house, or it creates codependent supports and no peace in my home.  They have their own spiritual house that they’re responsible for, and a place of honor in mine, only.

One of the most notable parts of the dream, was that my house was built right on train tracks.  My property spanned both sides.  No train was in sight, because now is a time of rebuilding (my spiritual house) and there’s no movement on the tracks.  I believe that after the trees develop, over the next seven years, that train will start moving through my property again with the harvest.

Build My Spiritual Home, Part A; November 26, 2016

train-tracks

 

I had a dream two nights in a row.  In my experience, when you dream something more than once, it’s something significant.  So, where I wasn’t paying as much attention the first night, I made sure to pay as much attention as I could, the second.

In my dream, I was walking through a field with a train track on our left and my husband on the right accompanied by a man on a horse riding beside us.  My husband put it on me to start building a house and he wanted one out in the country.  In my dream, I thought this was odd given we just moved back to the city in real life, so to move to the country sounded counter to what we were attempting to achieve.  Regardless, I agreed.

My husband iterated that the man on the horse would take care of the expenses and we could have whatever we wanted, no matter the cost.  Being a reluctant accountant by trade (more on reluctant accountant in future), I took that very seriously that this property or house would need to be functional, and if a business could be built, all the better.  I was not going to be careless with the money.

The house I settled on, was in the back of a small town, on top of a hill.  It was to the left of the tracks, but the property spanned both sides of the tracks.  Despite needing some renovations, the bones were there and I was excited about a renovation project.  In the field of my property, both sides of the tracks I walked with the man on the horse and I asked if I could plant an orchard.  In our talks, I spoke of my desire to put in nut trees.  When he asked why, I spoke that they took time to mature and in that time, I guessed around 7 years, I would then have the infrastructure in place to harvest the nuts.  I felt that if I planted fruit, the fruit would rot on the ground before I would learn about the trees and hire the hands I needed to harvest the fruit.  He agreed that this was a good plan and that although it was up to me, he agreed with nut trees and paid to have the trees planted.

Before I headed back into the house to start the renovation, the man on the horse and our investor, said he didn’t like our view.  I looked out and saw one of the hills over that the owners had started strip mining the hill.  He wanted to make sure that not only did we have a good property, but that our view was also good.  With that, he gave his adieu and let me know he’d take care of the view as well.  I remember not caring as much for the view with one bad hill while I watched him ride, and with so many other good hills around me, but immediately felt as though that wasn’t the point.  The investor also corrected me strongly that if we were to build a house and property to last, that the view was also important and, more importantly, that he was going to take care of all the details which included the view.  I watched him ride off until he was a speck in the distance in the direction of the brown hill.

In the house, there was a solarium to the left which with a crank of a wheel revealed the sunlight and it filtered in through the whole front room.  The front room had a beam or column in the front that was stunning and I immediately wanted a beautiful piece of artwork to hang up to be seen first thing when you walk in.  The sitting room was also gorgeous, needed work, but the structures were great with high running boards and antique touches of crown molding.  To the right was a kitchen that overlooked the property where the trees were being planted.  To the right of the kitchen was the master bedroom.  If you went straight from the entry there was a back hall that took you to several back rooms in the house.

The rooms and their significance won’t be spoke of now, but suffice to say that first thing I did was partition and put up beautiful doors.  The kitchen got wonderful French doors with frosted glass as well did the bedroom, den and back rooms.  Then I locked the doors and allowed my mother and father into the home.

My mom I let decorate the front room.  I wanted it to be a gallery where anyone that came over could buy or bring art and that this would be a beautiful place.  My mom wanted to “chique” more than just the floors, but every column in the house and the furniture.  I gave her cart blanch to decorate as she saw fit, but the columns, and the walls were to be painted white.  If she wanted to “chique” or weather the floor or furniture, she was welcome to it.  During the process of setting the boundaries of what she could or couldn’t alter in my new house, my mom was quite concerned over the fact that I had spent 18 million on this house and that I showed no signs of slowing my spending.  It was the first time in my dream there had been an ascribed number value to what I was building, and although I took great pains to ensure I didn’t waste, it wasn’t until this moment that a dollar was mentioned.  In my dream, though, it wasn’t an issue the 18 million spent and I reminded my mom that the dollar was between me, my husband, and my investor and not her concern and she was welcome to any resources she needed to make the rooms she was given mostly free reign to decorate, were hers.  Once she was done decorating, I thanked her very much, and showed her to the door without allowing her entrance into any of the other rooms.

My father was also working on something for the house.  I asked him for an art piece for the main column that was first seen when you entered the front door.  My father’s art piece was a combination painting and steel manufactured picture.  I remember requiring my father to change the landscape and fix the boarders to two inches, instead of one.  When he came back, the piece was so beautiful, I told him he could sell this anywhere and anyone would buy one.  We hung it in place together, and then I showed him also to the door.

No Longer an Accidental Jesus Fan; November 24, 2016

Diary,

It is no longer an accident I follow Jesus and I’m a big fan of Him.  It’s been almost three years now since I’ve reconciled the childhood teachings with my adult yearnings for the Holy Spirit to reveal Himself.  No longer does it seem accidental that blessings, and even teachings, are not the sole institutions of His Grace everywhere.  Even my dreams have taken a change as I isolate the spirits I listen to and hone in only on His voice for me in my life.

It is not without its hardships, because as I isolate His voice as the one I listen to, other voices go to the wayside.  Even voices I had once ascribed as from Him, find a different purpose or get left behind as He refines my walk with Him.

Friends and family that walk with God, are not necessarily a part of my present walk.  I find it interesting, that although they are God fearing and loving people, He is still weaning me away from them to start my own walk – no more codependent relationships, no more Christian walk without taking the time for me to know on my own, not by the witnesses around me, of His greatness.  No more leaning on other’s testimony to float me through; I am to build a testimony of my own.

Not an accidental Jesus fan anymore. 

Accident 790; September 7, 2016

I was blessed by participating in the first Spirit Connection webinar from Doug Addison’s ministry.

One of the things I’ve loved about Doug Addison’s ministry, starting back from about two years ago, is how he hears from the Lord and puts a word out every day.  Most days, I feel as though Doug Addison has really heard from God and he’s speaking directly into my life.  There have been times where he speaks that day on “Don’t be discouraged about bad news you receive today, God has a purpose” and that day I had been served on a legal case.  A year and a half later, I found that case to be dismissed and the Lord used that case for some very special growth and timing for both me and my business.  It took a year and a half, but I still remember the word of God that Doug Addison had posted the day I got served.

My biggest struggle, is now remembering it’s all in God’s perfect timing.

A year or so ago I purchased a book from Doug Addison on interpreting and understanding dreams and then never read it.  I know it sounds ungrateful, but I passed the book along to my father who I thought would benefit from it more.  My father has always been the dreamer in the family and fancies himself a prophet of God.  Although I don’t doubt my father has a gift to receive dreams, or that he’s not blessed by God; I can only say that his dreams have brought me nothing but sorrow and heartbreak by not realizing that the dream is not enough, there is a timing element that needs to followed as well – and it’s not my father’s timing.

When I started to get dreams at a young age that felt like they were from God, yet I had done everything in my power to squelch those dreams and to die to anything having to do with God as a result.

Part of the heartache could have been that we were kicked out of several churches growing up (I’ve gone into detail of this before, and if not, I will in the future) and each time it seemed to be a sign that dreams and visions of God all ended with the canonizing of the New Testament because anything since then can only be a product of pain and sorrow.

Bethel Ministries spends a great deal of time talking about how there are pillars in the church and how the church is to react to a prophet, but without these guidances growing up, I’ve only found that on the other side of my father’s dreams were unfulfilled ambitions.  In fact, my second husband was a product of my father’s dreams.  Although I didn’t want to marry him quite yet, my father said he saw him as my husband in his dream and so I moved forward into one of the most difficult trials in my life.  When I look back now, I guess I could say that my husband now would be the same fulfillment of that dream, “as a foreigner with strawberry blond hair, etc”.  But the un-fulfillment of that dangerous marriage prophecy only bought resentment between me and my family as his personal interpretation of his own dreams, and the wrong timing cost me a marriage and a quarter million dollars of my savings.

It’s hard to trust God and trust dreams and visions when both raised that they were wrong, and then any that were had by my father didn’t bear any good fruit.  I believe that because we didn’t have the church network to help my father through, that what he saw and his own filter was flawed as any human filter is, secluded from a healthy, supportive network.

Doug Addison is one of the only “dreaming prophets” that I am able to fully discern with the Lord’s help, that grasps the full fruit of the spirit and he can properly discern the difference between what dreams are from a human filter, and which are from the Holy Spirit.  He’s so grounded and inspirational for anyone trying to learn the difference, and healing for those like me that have seen only too faithfully how dreams of the spirit, without discernment can break people, families, churches and relationships.

Today was my first time participating in his Spirit Connection where Doug Addison speaks live about what the Holy Spirit is speaking to him about the season, and then he does a question and answer session at the end.  Skeptically, I asked a question of him and remarkably, he answered!  With over 279 people online and asking questions, he took the time to address a question about what to do about my family, – namely my father and his dreams –

My questions to Doug Addison; How do you know if you’re leaving someone behind that you’re doing it in the right spirit, or if you’re being false?  I can’t continue the co-dependent relationship I’ve had with my father and his dreams, I need to part ways and to move onto my own relationship with God and build it with my husband; however, my father makes it very tough to leave the relationship, building only terrible acts that encourage resentment and he uses his dreams as weapons.

Doug answered me in his Spirit Connection webcast for September 2016, that the difference between removing people in your life, versus having a bad spirit about sending people away in your life has to do with the heart – that wanting to raise judgement against them, wishing poorly for them, is the difference between making the right decision and making possibly the right decision in the wrong way.  He encouraged me to read James and John 15.

Today Doug says (September 12, 2016) that “A common mistake people make is not waiting or testing a prophetic word and acting on it too soon in the form of some major decision”.  I leaned on my father’s timing of the prophetic dream and not God’s timing of his dream.  This decision, like many others have allowed me to earn more painful life stripes than I needed to.

Lord, I want to move forward in your vision and timing for me and honor the gifts of the spirit you give people, and my dreams as well, but I move forward with your timing and I wait on you.  Patiently, Dear God, I wait on your perfect timing and I give patience to the people whom I’ve let speak into my life and urge their imperfect, yet well-meaning timing.  God, if I had had not been eager to move forward out of anxiety and not rest and be comforted in your quiet timing for my life, I would have saved myself so much heartache.  Thank you for buying all the heartache back from me in Your “buy back” program and compounding grace both on me and on the people who have spoken into my life.  Dearest Father, I don’t want to raise judgement against those that I have to leave behind because they do not want to walk in Your timing and watch my heart that I don’t raise judgement against them either.  Let the parting be more peaceful dearest God.  Amen.

doug-addison-2

Accidental Baptism in the Holy Spirit, 788 Part B; August 18, 2016

After an incredible worship, the speaker, Stacey Campbell, came to the front and began speaking.  I liked her for the fact she was also a fellow Canadian, but I couldn’t quite gel with what she was saying. In my mind, I was still arguing with myself if I actually heard Dear God, or if I was hearing my own thoughts tell me what I wanted to hear.  I didn’t have a prayer in me to ask for discernment, for it had been nearly 8 months of a prayerless desert.

Then it happened, Stacey Campbell blurted out the unthinkable, “To anyone who wants to be imparted the gift of Tongues, come up here and … (palatable pause) Patricia King will pray for you!”

My body didn’t feel under my control, my arm jumped up and I stood straight and tall as I could.  The house prophet was the only one that saw my outstretched arms and pointed my way as no one else was making any indication they wanted to be prayed for by Patricia King.  He pointed me out and my body once again felt out of my control and I marched my way to the front and stood at attention in front of Patricia King.  I’ll never forget the look on her face, God bless her, but I could tell she was a bit frustrated.  The whole auditorium was going in one direction of speaking into people’s lives with the gift of prophecy and here there is one person disrupting the whole thing, standing in rapt attention at the front waiting to be prayed for.  What Patricia King didn’t know, was that God made that appointment for me because of my doubting heart.

I was asked to move to the side where they would find a place for us to pray, and where I was originally the only one, about 5 other women joined me up at the frontlines of that auditorium.  With all of us brought to a private room in the side of the auditorium, it was amazing to see Patricia King come into herself and start to speak.  I could feel the Holy Spirit on her as she switched gears from the excitement of the main hall to the private room where around 8 of us were now gathered for the impartation of the gift of Tongues.  When asked if anyone had difficulty, I raised my hand that I was raised non-Charismatic, along with one other woman and she prayed for us separately.  When she put her hand on my head, I felt like I was a basketball in her capable game of speaking to Dear Jesus on our behalf that we wouldn’t be burdened by not having grown up allowing the gifts of the Holy Spirit to manifest in our lives – she was much taller than I had imagined, given I’m used to being one of the tallest women in any group, she towered over me and I submitted to the Holy Father as she led us in prayer.

Then I was baptized in the Holy Spirit, and I received the gift of Tongues along with each of the women there with us.

The most comforting thing that Patricia King said that day, was that when we get the gift, to not be hard on ourselves if it is just a few sounds, because she also had that limited expression at first, but that it grows in us as we build it with time and prayer with the Holy Spirit. Not everyone has these immediate radical experiences with God, but like her husband, he knew God to be right and when he asked the Lord to be in his heart, it didn’t come with the resounding boom that we’d always like, but in the stillness and quietness of our time with Him; we get into relationship that is confirmed, over and over again.

Today I was confirmed again, in my prayerless urgent search for Him; He found me in worship and He spoke to my heart what would happened that would once again affirm his relationship with me.  In that reaffirmation, I wound up being prayed for by a woman whose ministry really speaks to me, like it speaks to many, and I was blessed surrounded by women who sought the same thing.

Dear God is so good, using my failure to believe His still soft voice; He still made a way to both clearly and confidently reaffirm His voice in my heart so that next time, I’ll know His voice and I won’t waiver in faith of knowing Him from the doubting voices in my head.