Category Archives: Gifts of the Spirit

March 5, 2017 · 8:40 am

Inside Israel

SHUK

The Shuk in Jerusalem

Once again, it’s time to hear from our sister in Jerusalem about what she is witnessing there as a believer in Yeshua. Put your prayer shawls on and pray for Israel and Sister J. Now here she is —

“And Pharaoh said, “Who is the Lord, that I should obey His voice to let Israel go? I do not know the Lord, nor will I let Israel go.” Exodus 5:2

 “Therefore let all the house of Israel know assuredly that God has made this Jesus, whom you crucified, both Lord and Christ.”  Acts 2:36

I greet you with love dear sisters and brothers and with the prayer that this letter will bring glory and attention to The Lord only, and by His mercy, also edify and bless you.

PURIM is NOT one of my favorite holidays.  Don’t get me wrong, I love the book of Esther, which is full of direction and wisdom for all of us who seek to walk with Him.  It is wonderful to focus on the blessed place before the throne and the humility and obedience in God’s chosen vessels.  The book is rich with history as well. A history that repeats itself and so we can learn about the faithfulness of our God, Whose precious Name isn’t even mentioned in the small book, although His Presence and faithfulness is so clearly evident.

It’s also lovely to remember the things that impressed me when we first made aliyah, immigrate to Israel, and to recall the way that the day was celebrated.  Although EVERYONE did not take part in the Esther-fast even back then, it WAS still a big part of the time period.

There was the gathering for the reading of the scroll of Esther (‘magillot Esther’) and the giving of baskets of goodies and fruits.  And living in the Ancient Walled City – or at least in the new part of Jerusalem – made it even more special as WE got to celebrate ‘Shushan Purim’ (the second day of Purim celebrated by walled cities as directed in the book of Esther).  There were children decked out in mostly homemade costumes. So many little Esthers and Mordachais, carrying baskets to give to others.

These things are still here, but not to the extent that they were some 22 years ago.  Costumes of all sorts, cheap shiny costumes designed to make one into super heroes and super NOT heroes, seem to look sexier and grosser with each passing year.  Painted faces begin appearing as people practice for what?  I don’t know! Oh, sort of a Halloween type of exhibition.  I have heard a number of people say, “Purim!  A time to get drunk,” as if this was what it was all about.  Yes, drunkenness was part of the tradition handed down with the holiday, but it has become central now.  I see far fewer Purim baskets for sale, and I am NOT looking forward to Purim this year.

Of course there will STILL be the reading of magillot Esther and there will STILL be some fasting and there will STILL be some baskets given out, but that intangible something has changed. The “party spirit” has replaced the sense of the Holy and it makes me sad.

Perhaps I’m being too hard, critical, judgmental.  Nonetheless, this is what I see building up, even more this year than in past years.  Perhaps next Saturday night (and here in Jerusalem next Sunday night) will usher in a reversal and I will have to eat my words.  I hope so. I really do.  I will pray to that end, especially as new Haman’s rise up around the world in modern form as such a REAL and PRESENT threat.

Perhaps that will sober us and remind us that it REALLY took an Esther and a Mordechai to prevail with God. It WASN’T and ISN’T a given now.   If my observations turn out to be a wrong call, I will HAPPILY let you know!  I am sure that it brings JOY to The Lord to know that many Christians around the world have taken up the mantle of Esther and Mordechai, and WILL be interceding for God’s purposes to be fulfilled!

 

Purim marks something else on our calendar as well and it’s already in the air.  When Purim comes, Pesach (Passover) is NOT FAR BEHIND.

  “And Pharaoh said, “Who is the Lord, that I should obey His voice to let Israel go? I do not know the Lord, nor will I let Israel go.” Exodus 5:2

You all know well that Scripture tells us that GOD hardened Pharaohs heart, and that indeed, he was raised up for the purposes that he fulfilled: that God would display His Mighty power and glory, and that He would have an instrument with which to judge the gods of Egypt.  God’s ways surely aren’t ours.

So over the next month, the entire nation will prepare for Pesach – the CENTERPIECE of who we are as a people and nation. I read this morning  in Acts 2:36:

 “Therefore let all the house of Israel know assuredly that God has made this Jesus, whom you crucified, both Lord and Christ.” 

and a thrill ran through me!  “…LET ALL THE HOUSE OF ISRAEL KNOW ASSUREDLY THAT GOD HAS MADE JESUS, WHOM YOU CRUCIFIED, BOTH LORD AND CHRIST.!”

ALL the house of Israel!  What a revelation that will be (according to Zech. 12 and so many other places!).  It is really the revelation that the entire Passover Seder is about and represents and perhaps THIS YEAR will be the year for removing the blinders from the eyes of my people to SEE our Messiah.  To LOOK upon Him Whom we pierced and respond with hearts prepared through two thousand years of wanderings. May it be! true this year.

While I waited for the bus the other morning, I was listening to the Church bells in the Old City ringing in the early morning sunrise.  I had the opportunity to be in the Old City one night as I got to meet a new friend there. While I listened to the bells, I recalled a conversation that I overheard.

The Old City is FULL of tourists, and maps and information signs are posted everywhere.  A local tour guide led a small group (3 men) to the entrance of the Muslim Quarter. I heard one of the tourists ask, ‘Why is there so much fighting over the Old City?  Why is it SO important to these 3 religious groups?’

The tour guide pointed to Temple Mount and said, “Well, this area is holy to the Muslims because Mohammed went to heaven on the winged horse from here.  To the Jews, the holy Temple was built here not once but twice.  The Christians…well…it is not so important to them.  They have a few buildings, but it is really only the Church of the holy Sepulcher that is important to them.”

I was taken by surprise. My mind ran to the promises, the history, the battles, the depth and width and length of the meaning of this tiny area that has seen so much bloodshed.  The three men shook their heads.  Ok.  They were satisfied, now they “knew.”  They walked on.  I took a breath.

My older daughter said something that, to me is profound.  She said,  “The stones in Israel are covered with flowers.  That is the definition of Grace.”   

 It truly IS impressive to see the stones of Jerusalem, some massive, some not so, but all compacted together, pressed in tightly, dignifying Jerusalem with a uniqueness that can only speak loudly and clearly of GOD. For He uses stones to teach us so much.  And, yes, coming out of these stones, which will be dry and hot all summer, flowers grow out of seemingly IMPOSSIBLE places.

I was shocked when we arrived in July of 1994 and saw what appeared to be strings of a sort of orchid pressing through the stone, standing alone, not in groups or even two plants together. Each a sentinel of sorts, here and there.  Other flowers, tiny, fragile, breaking through the hard Jerusalem stone, alone, beautiful in their shout of David defeating Goliath all over again.  She was right. They SHOUT ‘GRACE!’

I think that I need a double portion of GRACE as I see Purim approaching this year.

Probably when I see my little 3 year-old granddaughter dressed as Queen Elsa. I will tell her that she is the PERFECT QUEEN ESTHER and melt like a flower pushing through the rock.  GRACE, GRACE, to this mountain too!

Shalom with love from Jerusalem.  Thank you SO MUCH for your prayers and patience.

Your sister in Jerusalem,

J

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March 3, 2017 · 8:44 pm

Mountains Melt at the Presence of God (Part 2)

My life really began on May 20, 1985, when I gave my life to the Lord. The following morning became Day #1 of my new life.

It all began with me jumping out of bed before 6 a.m. – a record for me. I brushed my teeth and went into the family room. I didn’t know what a new believer should do, but I felt I needed to do something. There was too much energy whirling inside me, which needed to be released. So, I sat on the sofa and began praying.

Don’t go thinking that I instantly became a prayer warrior because I certainly was not even close to being a person of prayer. You see, we can never  move ahead of the revelations we have of God. We must begin where we are at the time, which is not a problem for our heavenly Father because He looks at our hearts. He rewards us according to the light we have at any moment in our lives and encourages us to grow toward maturity.

Thus, I prayed something like this:

“Lord bless my  wife. Bless my son. Bless my daughter. Bless my dad. Bless my mom…” and so forth.

Within ten minutes, I had prayed for everyone that I knew, but even with such low level prayers, I felt His peace, love, and joy rise up inside me during this period of praying.

Along with a few small petitions scattered here and there, this is how I prayed for the first fifty days of my walk with the Lord. Also, I studied the Bible.

But on the fiftieth day – my personal Pentecost – I was baptized in the Holy Spirit and spoke in tongues.

Pray in the Spirit at all times and on every occasion. Stay alert and be persistent in your prayers for all believers everywhere. (Ephesians 6:18 NLT)

I took the above verse to heart, praying for everyone in tongues. I also worshipped the Lord by praying and singing in tongues. So, my prayer life was basically praying in tongues for about an hour.

Then one morning, the Holy Spirit enveloped me with His presence and I was gone. Gone? I don’t know a better way of explaining it then to say one moment I was praying and the next one I was in a place so wonderful that I never wanted to leave it. Did I see anything? Not really, but time seemed to stand still.

Afterward I checked my wristwatch and noticed that approximately thirty minutes had passed while I was gone. That first experience hooked me. I sought being gone in my prayer life every morning from then on.

(Continued in Part 3)

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March 2, 2017 · 10:34 am

Prayers for America (2017)

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Is Israel important to American believers?

“The day is coming,” says the LORD, “when I will make a new covenant with the people of Israel and Judah. (Jeremiah 31:31 NLT)

The New Covenant, which believers enjoy today, was offered to all of mankind because of Israel and Judah.

But some of these branches from Abraham’s tree—some of the people of Israel—have been broken off. And you Gentiles, who were branches from a wild olive tree, have been grafted in. So now you also receive the blessing God has promised Abraham and his children, sharing in the rich nourishment from the root of God’s special olive tree. (Romans 11:17 NLT)

All of the blessings of the Old Testament and New Testament belong to Gentile believers because we have been grafted into a Jewish tree with Jewish roots. If we want, we can think of ourselves as “grafted-in Jews.”

Thus, we need America to honor its commitments and to bless Israel.

My prayer today:

Lord, remind President Donald Trump of his campaign promises for Israel and that he promised to move the U.S. Embassy from Tel Aviv to Jerusalem. Place a wall behind him so he can only go forward to fulfill his promises.

What do you think and has the Lord spoken to you today?

Join with me on Thursdays to fast and pray for America.

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February 26, 2017 · 12:55 pm

Inside Israel

SHUK

The Shuk in Jerusalem

Once again, it’s time to hear from our sister in Jerusalem about what she is witnessing there as a believer in Yeshua. Put your prayer shawls on and pray for Israel and Sister J. Now here she is —

Greetings dear brothers and sisters,

May The Lord be glorified and blessed, and may you who are His be blessed and encouraged.

Two weeks in February feel longer somehow then two weeks at other times, but it has actually been three difficult months, months of challenges. I have learned that every challenge brings the choice: will I stand in HIS way or will I look for a different way out.  This time I learned that SOMETIMES I can THINK that I am taking HIS way, but am really standing in the flesh.

I’m am SO THANKFUL TO OUR FAITHFUL AND MERCIFUL LORD Who is willing to bring us into a corner where we are forced to see our flesh yet again and cry out for His overcoming grace.

Hard times are not synonymous with bad times, IF they produce the peaceable fruit of righteousness.

I made some notes over these past few weeks, things that I wanted to share.  Now I stare at them and try to remember the point.

First I wrote Romans 12. What a challenging chapter to walk through after drinking in His Word.  This is a wonderful chapter as they all are.

I stopped in a shop at the shuk for a new tablecloth.  When I was a kid in kindergarten in NYC we used to have oilcloths.  Do any of you remember them?  I loved them for some reason because they felt good.  Maybe they just felt like a big girl going to kindergarten, but I loved oilcloth.  It MAY be available again in the States now, but for many years, it was an item in the recesses of my memory until we came here.  Oilcloth is still not only popular, but a standard, and it still makes me smile to get a new one for a few shekels every change of season.

The rolls of oilcloth stood on the street like soldiers in front of the dry goods store and I saw one that I liked.  I peeped into the store, which is run by Haradi (religious) twins. “Geveret!  Efo at?”  This literally means: “Maam, where ARE you?” But it is an affectionate way of saying, “Where have you been?”

It makes me smile. “I haven’t needed anything for awhile.  Thank you for missing me.”

We smile affectionately at one another.  It is a warm feeling to know that in Jerusalem a shopkeeper missed seeing me.

It may have been still very cold but there is no doubt that the seasons are changing. The birds changed. The cats howl. The days are longer, and even though we still have citrus fruit, the tomatoes and cucumbers are looking heartier and the red peppers are back.

I decided to take my daughter on a trip that I have dreamed about – back to the mishtala or plant nursery, where she worked before leaving the country 5 years ago.  She had loved working there.  It is a huge, lively nursery across from the Botanical Gardens. The plants for the Botanical Gardens as well as personal gardens, are cultivated there.  It’s a delightful place and was so good for her to work there.

Now that they are home, I wanted to help her to get things growing, working a bit in the earth, putting down roots, and watching things blossom into new life.  She was pleased and even more so when we walked in and the manager shouted out her name. Others came running, hugging her and oohing and aahing over the children.  When she left here 5 years ago, she was still single. Now she was a sprouting tribe and they were all happy to see how she was doing.  Eventually we began picking out starts and seeds and of course some small gardening tools for 3 year old Maya.  I started talking to an older worker who was thrilled to see our daughter thriving.  “Nothing like Grandchildren,” he grinned and we both nodded enthusiastically.

“How many do you have?”  I asked.

“Twenty seven and we all live in the same village.”

I gulped.  How wonderful it sounded as he described all of their homes being around his on the same moshav.  “We aren’t really in each other’s houses all the time but come summer we are always outside together.”

Covetousness reared its ugly head!

And had to be dealt with QUICKLY!

There is no other way to put it: it’s hard for immigrants.

It takes a full generation to plant ourselves into the land, learn the language and the more subtle things of a culture. The generation of the “in between” has raw roots.

I began to thank The Lord for bringing us home and thought of Psalm 90:1 “LORD THOU hast been our dwelling place in all generations…”

My heart was immediately comforted and brought back into His perspective.  HE is our dwelling place…a sure Home and everlasting Abode.  But it’s good to remind those of you who so lovingly and faithfully pray for aliyah, which IS God’s plan, to also pray for the rooting and sustaining of those who come here because of the culture shock. So then a good root system can be formed.

 

On the train the next day I saw a lovely thing.  Two young men, religious boys by their dress, got on the train and without embarrassment called to everyone, “Greetings!  We are collecting money for a young immigrant couple that are getting married and have nothing.  Please share with them?”  They produced water bottles with the tops cut off and began to go along the aisle.  Nearly everyone generously poured change into the bottles.

The woman next to me said, “What?  What did he say?  I didn’t hear him.”  She cupped her hand to her ear.

“It’s for the wedding of a young immigrant couple who have nothing.”

She nodded her head.  She understood.  No one asked to see proof.  I was touched both by their open gesture and by the quick sharing of the people.  It was lovely.  It was Jerusalem.

I recalled the story a volunteer told me recently. It is common here for people to go door to door collecting money for various needs.  This volunteer shared that they had gone to the door of an elderly man and said, “We are here to help with home repairs for those who need help…”

Before they could finish the sentence, the man went to his change bag and pulled out several small coins and gave it to them saying, “Yes.  Please help them.”

They were touched because it was HIM whose apartment they had come to repair.

It’s time for bed.  Thank you for your prayers.  The Lord is faithful!  We are heading toward the beginning of the Spring feasts and the forerunner is Purim: the celebration of the book of Esther.  I will share more next time, but thank you for praying.

God bless you dear family,

Sister J

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February 25, 2017 · 8:26 am

Geezer Up (Part 13)

 

Every part of me trembled from a fear so overpowering that my teeth chattered aloud. All I could think about was Kyle’s death grip on my neck and how the next time, he would finish the task. I didn’t know what else to do so I climbed into the top bunk and curled up in a ball, resigning myself to the fate soon awaiting me in Cell 27 at County Jail #4.

My exhaustion and fears struggled with each other for a few minutes, before exhaustion won out. I fell into a deep sleep.

Martin Luther King, Jr. wrote in his memoir, Stride Toward Freedom, about his receiving forty or more death threats per day during the Montgomery Bus Boycott of 1955-1956. One particular phone call late at night pushed him over the edge. He walked into the kitchen, made a pot of coffee, and sat down in a chair at the kitchen table. He tried to think of a way to quit his leadership position without appearing to be a coward. Finally, he prayed and asked God to help him because he was too afraid to continue. The presence of the Lord cloaked King, assuring him that He would always be with him in the days ahead and forever. King never again doubted or feared for his life again.

What the Lord did for Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. at the kitchen table, he did for me in that top bunk.

Was it a dream? Was it a vision? Or did I really ascend into the second heaven? I don’t know for sure, but you can judge it for yourself.

In my sleep, I heard my voice echoing the earlier prayer: “Lord, thanks for giving a seventy-three year old geezer, like me, a second chance to be a part of the action and not allowing me to retire from Your kingdom work. And Lord, use me even more in the days ahead.”

My words came out of an intense darkness without shadows. Yet, peace, love, and joy filled the same darkness. A spotlight then came on, shining on Reverend Morgan Churchill, the most godly man I had ever met and father of one of our closest friends, Faye Strawmeier. He was the founding pastor of Jedidiah Smith Community Church, which Jane and I attended for thirty years.

“Dylan, give me your hand,” said Reverend Churchill.

I sat up and offered my right hand to him. He grabbed it and we took off, up through the ceiling of Cell 27, through the roof of the Hall of Justice Building, and up into the heavenly realms. Even though I figured we were traveling at the speed of light, my eyes had no problem adjusting to the speed. I could focus on images as we zoomed past them.

We stopped thousands of miles above San Francisco.

“Today, you are going to begin learning about your enemy and how to battle him in the days ahead,” Reverend Churchill. “Pay close attention to what you see, okay?”

I nodded my head, but my mouth itched to blurt out questions.

Reverend Churchill had been an easy-going leader with an infectious sense of humor when he pastored. His blue eyes always looked ready to smile and enjoy a good time with people around him. But on this day, his manner mirrored the solemnity of the occasion, as did his dark suit, starched white shirt, and red-stripped tie. His chronic back problems seemed no longer an issue for him because he stood tall and erect before me.

“Look over there,” he pointed toward a radiant being sitting on what appeared to be a golden throne covered with jewels located in the realm next to us. “What do you see?”

“It looks like a god. I almost feel like worshipping it.”

“What you’re viewing with your eyes is the ruling principality over San Francisco −”

“But he’s beautiful!”

“The Apostle Paul wrote in 2 Corinthians, ‘For even Satan disguises himself as an angel of light.’ That is the spirit of depravity and how you’re seeing it right now is how most San Franciscans − believers and unbelievers alike − view this principality, as something good, and not evil.”

Reverend Churchill reached over with his right hand and covered my eyes. He then removed his hand.

“Now look again at the creature now that your spiritual eyes are opened up two levels.”

The being changed in one nano-second into a grotesque creature, much like a King Kong-sized gargoyle. His body parts appeared to be a surreal mixture of wolf, reptile, and goat parts with a stubby tail, talons for feet, scale-covered wings, paw-like hands, and misshapen goat-like face with two outlandish ram’s horns covering his wolf-shaped ears. His open mouth was filled with hideous teeth. There was nothing beautiful about him at all.

On closer inspection, the principlity’s throne was not made of gold, but rather out of worthless pyritic minerals or fool’s gold. The jewels decorating the throne were nothing more than worthless colored glass.

“In the days ahead, you will expose the spirit of depravity to the people of San Francsisco,” said Reverend Churchill.

“How?”

“By revealing God’s goodness to the city because it is through His goodness that people’s eyes will be opened to repentance.”

Before I could say another word, he held up his hand in a stop sign manner.

“Your first teaching on spiritual warfare is over for today, but from now on, you will walk in His peace. Nothing will faze or upset you in the days ahead because His presence within your heart will be a roaring fire, burning all doubts and fears that may confront you.”

Seconds later, I returned to my bunk a changed man.

(A new sequel to Unhitched Geeser, which can be checked out here.)

(Continued in Part 14…the full series to date can be read here.)

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February 23, 2017 · 9:12 am

Prayers for America (2/23/2017)

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Paul never glamorized the gospel! It is not success, but sacrifice! It’s not a glamour gospel, but a bloody gospel, a gory gospel, and a sacrificial gospel! 5 minutes inside eternity and we will wish that we had sacrificed more! Wept more, bled more, grieved more, loved more, prayed more, given more! (Leonard Ravenhill)

My prayer today:

Lord, help us American believers to not be ashamed of the gospel of Christ, trusting that it truly is the power of God to salvation for everyone who believes. (Based on Romans 1:16)

What do you think and has the Lord spoken to you today?

Join with me on Thursdays to fast and pray for America.

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February 22, 2017 · 2:40 pm

Mountains Melt at the Presence of God (Part 1)

I was upset with God on that winter day in 1995. Things were not panning out quite the way I expected them to happen, not even close. I was thousands of dollars in debt, my friends had for the most part deserted me, and the woman who I thought would marry me didn’t even want to see me.

I sat by myself in that small upstairs apartment, near Iowa State University, reading a biography on John Lake’s life. As I turned the pages of the book, I decided to tell God exactly how I felt at that moment.

Standing up, I pointed my finger toward heaven. “Lord, I’m fed up with the way You’re running my life,” I said with foolish boldness. “In fact, I’m sick of it. If You’re the Creator of the Universe, why can’t You get me out of my problems in one day? Don’t You have enough power to do it by tomorrow? Or is Your arm too short? ”

I sat back down, quite satisfied with how I let God know my real feelings, and picked up the book again.

Much like it says in Acts 2:2 — And suddenly there came from heaven a sound like a mighty rushing wind — God came into the room. His presence filled every part of the room with His holiness.

I dropped the book, fell to my knees on the floor, and wept. “O Lord, don’t kill me. Don’t kill me. Please don’t kill me,” I muttered over and over again.

You see, I knew I couldn’t live in that level of holiness for very long because of the sin in my life.

Then, the Lord spoke to my heart. “If I wanted to, I could deliver you out of your problems by tomorrow.”

“Yes, Lord, I believe that You could do that. Just don’t kill me.”

His heavy presence lifted off the room and eventually I stood up a changed man, much smaller in my own eyes than before that time.

This was an extreme example of God’s presence in my life, but interesting enough, it was God’s presence which came upon me as a young believer that drew me to love Him and desire to be with Him. And to be honest, if there is one thing that I hope I could somehow teach every believer: it would be to seek His presence.

The mountains melt like wax at the presence of the LORD, at the presence of the Lord of the whole earth. (Psalm 97:5)

(Continued in Part 2)

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February 20, 2017 · 8:34 am

Geezer Up (Part 12)

 

One moment, I felt ten feet tall, full of faith, defying the judge, announcing my fast, and the next moment, which happened as soon as I stepped out of the courtroom, I was weak old Dylan again. A seventy-three year old, bald, fifteen pounds over weight geezer who needed afternoon naps to stay awake until 9:30 at night. Not only that, I craved blueberry pie, ice cream, chocolate covered peanuts, pizza, and would have robbed a bank to get them if I had a gun or a knife. What’s my problem, I thought.

The young guard marched me up to the seventh floor to County Jail #4, a maximum-security facility for murderers, rapists, drug dealers, gang leaders, and now, a geezer with a big mouth.

After signing in, I went to a room where a soft-spoken guard ordered me to strip off my clothing so he could thoroughly search me. He then handed me my orange county jail outfit, white t-shirt, white underwear, white socks, pair of black slide sandals, and a bag containing toothbrush, toothpaste, soap, deodorant, and a locker key.

I finally arrived at my cell just before lunchtime. My cellmate sat at the small built-in desk, reading a thick book and taking notes on a legal pad. He looked up and shook his head.

“I was hoping for a cute young guy, but instead, I get an old, worn-out coot like you. What are the odds?” he said with a smile. Then, he stood up and offered his hand. “My name is Kyle Bogart. I’m the gay terminator on this wing.”

Even though he wore an orange uniform like mine, Kyle looked like he had stepped out of GQ Magazine with his stylish cut blond hair, blue eyes, chiseled good looks, and muscular six-foot frame.

I shook his firm hand. “My name’s Dylan Matthews. I’m a retired cute guy.”

Kyle laughed. “Okay, that’s funny, but because seniority has its benefits in here, you get the top bunk, and the little locker on the right.”

“That works for me.”

I pointed at his thick book. “What are you studying?”

“Law.”

“That sounds boring to me.”

“Yeah, it is, but I’m accused of murder and thought it would be a good idea to understand what the lawyers are talking about.”

“Murder? You look like a successful businessman.”

“Good guess! I am a part owner of a successful restaurant, but my partner was recently bludgeoned to death.”

“Sorry to hear that.”

“Well, things happen. Plus, he was my husband and cheated on me. By the way, what are you in here for? Robbing a bank or something exciting like that?”

It’s funny how at that moment I remembered his words “gay terminator” and how he didn’t elaborate on that title. My imagination kicked into gear with all kinds of hypothetical possibilities.

I blew out a deep breath and plunged into the deep end. “I spoke a short message to some men watching the parade down in the Castro District. All I said was, ‘Each of you must repent of your sins and turn to God, and be baptized in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins.’ My words caused a small riot and ended up with me being arrested for a hate crime.”

His facial expression changed from normal to deranged in a San Francisco second. His blue eyes glazed over and the vein on the side his neck popped out, looking like it was ready to explode. He hurdled the distance between us and grabbed my neck with his huge hands and began choking me. I tried to protect myself, but he was too strong. His hate-filled eyes slashed my heart as I stared into them. I figured his face would be the last one I’d see before meeting Jesus in heaven.

The lunch chime sounded.

He released his chokehold on me, much like the dogs had responded to ringing bells in Pavlov’s experiments. He looked at me and then down at his hands, flexing both of them.

“My mom preached this crap to me until I finally left home. So, don’t ever mention Jesus or God to me again because I don’t know if I can contain myself from ripping you apart!” he proclaimed. Then, he lowered his voice. “Let’s go eat lunch now, okay?”

I struggled for breath and shook my head. “No! Go ahead without me. I’m going to rest a little bit.”

“Suit yourself, but today’s lunch is pastrami on rye with lentil soup. It’s really good.”

And just like that, the gay terminator left.

(A new sequel to Unhitched Geeser, which can be checked out here.)

(Continued in Part 13…the full series to date can be read here.)

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February 15, 2017 · 2:03 pm

Is President Trump the Dividing Line for the Body of Christ?

A 4 minute and 34 second video on my views of President Trump and his first three weeks in office.

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February 14, 2017 · 8:44 am

Prayers for Healing and Deliverance (2/14/2017)

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Maybe you don’t like the spiritual gifts and think, “Yuck! Who wants this Pentecostal/Charismatic phoney baloney spiritual gifts-type of stuff. Not me!”

Relax. Take a deep breath. Now, continue reading.

Let’s say that you and your wife take your daughter to the mall. She is three years old and dressed up in the cutest Bambi t-shirt and jeans outfit. Everyone looks at her and smiles. She’s a doll and you adore her, and would do anything for her.

But because you were in a hurry when you left home, you did not use the restroom, and you need to go – now. You tell your wife.  She rolls her eyes and says, “Oh honey, use the one in Macy’s Department Store. We’ll wait here for you by the kids play area.”

You rush to the restroom, do your duty, wash your hands and leave. As you walk back from the store, you see a flash and hear an explosion from an Islamic terrorist’s bomb. It knocks you down. Glass particles and debris cover your body.

Brushing yourself off, you run to where you wife and daughter were waiting. When you get there, you see bodies all over the floor. Somehow, you find your wife and daughter. They’re dead with blood all over them.

Now, what are you going to do?

Are you going to call the police? Or the doctor? Or your pastor? Or the funeral home? Or are you just going to fall down and cry?

You see, at this disastrous moment, you need the gift of faith, the gift of healing, and the gift of miracles to try and raise your loved ones from the dead. And I guarantee that you would do anything to have these gifts at that time, wouldn’t you?

So, what’s stopping you from seeking the spiritual gifts? Pride. Bad teaching. Laziness. What?

(Taken from Islamic Terrorists versus Radical Christians: New Game. New Rules by Larry Nevenhoven, which can be read in its entirety here.)

My prayer today:

Lord, help us American believers to pursue love, and desire Your spiritual gifts now. (Based on 1 Corinthians 14:1)

Join with me on Tuesdays to fast and pray for new revelations on healing and deliverance for Americans NOW.

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