Tag Archives: Gifts of the Spirit

At 9 p.m., my studying was completed. So, I stood up and walked into the kitchen for a drink of water. Turning on the recessed ceiling lights, I stopped dead in my tracks. A grotesque creature was sitting on a stool at the island counter. If the angel was the epitome of the Kingdom of Light, then this being was the dark side’s counterpart. Its gloomy eyes glared at me and its lips formed a sneer. Oozing sores plastered the being’s face and neck. A filthy robe covered its torso. The air was charged with a stench of decay.

“Listen up Chuck,” the creature said in a raspy voice.

Fear struck my chest like a baseball bat. I had trouble breathing. Confusion settled over me like a morning fog. Two and two did not add up at that moment.

“If you go to businessmen and tell them to leave churches and no longer give money to ministries and churches, some bad things will happen to your family. Your two sons will die in an auto accident and your wife will go insane. Do you hear me?”

I could not speak.

The creature drummed its dirty two-inch long fingernails on the granite counter. The beat reminded me of a funeral march.

“I said – do you hear me?” the creature hissed out the words.

I nodded.

“And I can do it. It will be easy, just as easy as it was for me to come into your home. No one can protect you from me! Not even God!”

The creature bared its brownish-yellowish teeth with a hideous grin as it stood up. “Don’t you ever forget what I told you – okay?”

The being walked over to the door leading out to the deck. Then without opening the door, he stepped through it, and left.

I collapsed on the floor and wept. My body convulsed in fear.

“Oh God! What have I done to my family?” I screamed.

Afterward, I pulled myself together and wandered into the family room, collapsing on the sofa. What is happening? I thought. Everything is hitting me at once. What can I do? My mind raced in circles searching for answers, but I found none. Finally, I fell asleep.

As I slept, a voice visited me. Was it a dream or a vision? It was like both, but different at the same time. I was awake, but asleep.

“Chuck,” the voice said.

Looking up, I saw myself standing in front of a stage in what looked like a large auditorium. It was black. None of the spot lights were turned on. The red velvet curtains were drawn apart. The voice seemed to be flowing out of the darkness blanketing the stage. I felt no fear, but in fact, was comforted by the voice.

“Yes,” I answered.

“Do you have some questions?”

“Yes.”

“Go ahead.”

“What was that being in my kitchen?”

“What do you think it was?”

“A demon.”

“Yes. That was a demon power sent to frighten you by the religious ruling spirit over America.”

“But how did that happen?” I asked. “I always pray for angelic protection over me.”

“Yes, you do,” the voice said. “For just a few moments, the angels who protect you backed off their posts. When they did that, the demon power slipped into your realm.”

It hit me like a hammer between the eyes. The Lord set me up and used me as ambush bait.

“But – ” I said, trying to put my thoughts into words.

The voice interrupted me. “You have been chosen to have insight into spiritual warfare so that you can teach others. Spiritual warfare is not played on a Game Boy. It is played out in real life scenarios where lives and destinies are at stake.”

The voice paused for a moment and then added, “Satan and his army want to kill Christians and their families, and destroy their destinies on the earth.”

I cringed. “But what can I do to protect my family?”

“What does scripture say?”

Once again, the voice bounced my question back to me.

I thought for a moment before answering. “Cast my cares on the Lord for He cares for me.”

“Yes. And don’t forget that Jesus rebuked demons. He refused to allow them to speak because they are all liars. You can do the same in Jesus’ name.”

I was silent, not wanting to ask my next question.

“Can Satan and his forces really hurt my children or Dusty?” I finally asked.

“Yes. Your rebellion and sin can open the gates for Satan’s army to come into your family’s lives. But by the same token, a causeless curse will not alight on you or your family. So, walk with God and avoid sin.” The voice was silent for a moment. “Any more questions?

“What about my problems with Dusty?”

“She is not the problem – you are. Dusty is like most women in that she desires to see her husband as a sold-out man of God, not a half-hearted pew-sitter. You obey God, follow His instructions, and she will be happy to walk by your side.”

With that answer, the voice left and I returned to my sleep.

The above scene is from my novel, Deceived, Dead and Delivered, which will be released in 2012.   

(Continued in Part 3)

When the vision ended, I sat there trying to make sense of what I had just seen.

That’s when the angel appeared.

He stared at me. “Let’s go.”

Shock hit me, my mouth hung open. “Huh?” I mumbled.

Without explanation, the angel reached over and grabbed my left hand. We took off at the speed of light. I looked down as Albert disappeared quickly into a black dot and heard a faint “wolf” fall out of his mouth.

The dome of the San Francisco City Hall appeared directly ahead of us. It looked like we would crash into it. But before I could scream, we passed through it and landed in the Supervisors’ meeting chamber on the second floor. A wooden bench somehow telescoped out of the wall, up near the ceiling, and we sat down.

Under us, I saw the eleven supervisors sitting in their leather swivel-chairs. Each had a laptop computer on the desk in front of them. They talked and carried on. It was the weekly San Francisco Supervisors’ meeting.

The angel turned toward me. His robe whispered softly as he pivoted around.

“Open your eyes and see,” he said with a quiet power filled with heavenly authority.

I looked down again. This time my spiritual eyes opened.

I saw a grotesque creature sitting on the right shoulder of each of the eleven supervisors. The chimpanzee-size beings had a mixture of what looked like reptile, dragon, and wolf-like body parts with stubby tails, talons for feet, scale-covered wings, web-like hands and misshapen faces which protruded into long snouts and were filled with sharp teeth. They resembled dingy, gray gargoyles.

Each creature held its right wing over their assigned supervisors’ eyes. Their right hands were curled into a megaphone shape so they could speak directly into the supervisors’ ears. Their left hands looped behind the supervisors’ heads and covered their left ears.

The creatures never rested. When they were not speaking into ears, they looked up, around and at each other, their heads constantly moved about, their eyes searching to and fro. They seemed to be driven by a deep dread, almost as if a cruel slave master’s power instilled a fear in them.

What is this? I thought. Why am I here?

“Today is show and tell day, preparing you for your first assignment next week,” said the angel.

“First assignment – next week?”

“Quiet! I’m the teacher. You’re the student. Understand?” he whispered a stinging rebuke at me.

His voice contained no anger. Love cushioned the blows, but yet, I felt the power behind the rebuke. I shuddered and nodded.

“Earlier today, you had a vision. In it, you saw yourself being used as a sword by the Lord Jesus against a brass gate. The brass gate you saw was a gate of Hell over this city. It must be attacked so the truth from heaven can be heard in San Francisco. You are His chosen weapon for the undertaking.”

He paused a beat before continuing.

“Your spiritual eyes have been dialed up two notches, but that’s more than enough for you to get an idea of what’s happening in the Supervisors’ meeting room,” he said. “As you can see, demons sit on the supervisors’ shoulders, blocking information that is contrary to Satan’s agenda. At the same time, evil ideas are constantly spoken into the supervisors’ ears.”

He pointed a finger at me. “Remember: our struggle is not against flesh and blood but against the hordes of Satan.”

I nodded.

Then, he pointed at the supervisors. “Look again.”

This time I saw words streaming through the ceiling on what looked like hologram ticker tapes carried on laser beams. These words flowed to the ears of the creatures, the supervisors and everyone in the room.

I read them; they said, “Alternative life style.” “Pro-choice.” “Gay pride.” “Toleration.” “Christians are bigots.” “Abortion is a woman’s right.” “Separation of church and state.”  “San Francisco Pride.”

As each new message arrived, the creatures spoke into the ears of supervisors. A source from above orchestrated everything.

The angel pointed up. “Look.”

As I obeyed, the ceiling and roof over us opened and I saw into the second heaven. My eyes took a few moments adjusting to the spirit realm. But then, I saw a creature sitting on a large brass throne, blocking a portal coming out of the third heaven. Light rays attempted to flow through the portal, but only a few rays were able to pass by the large creature.

The creature’s appearance alternated between looking like a beautiful angel dressed in white and that of a monster version of the dingy, gray gargoyles, sitting on the supervisors’ shoulders. Like the smaller demons, the creature never rested. It caused fear in the hierarchy of demons below it and seemed fearful of its own cruel masters above it.

The words I saw, streaming through the ceiling like hologram ticker tapes, emanated from this creature. I saw additional word streams coming out of the creature’s mouth, heading toward Sacramento, Hollywood, Washington, D. C., New York City, newspapers, television networks, movie studios, publishers, corporations and thousands of other places.

The angel interrupted my thoughts.

“What you are seeing is the spirit of depravity. It is a ruling principality over San Francisco and guards a gate of Hell over the city. So powerful is this spirit that its wickedness is spread throughout the nation.

“The reason the spirit switches back and forth between appearances is it is creating confusion by this maneuver in the minds of people, whereby good is called evil and evil good.”

He grabbed my left hand. “Hang on.”

We flew up over City Hall and stopped, suspended high above the dome’s peak. The angel waved his hand over the city.

“Next week, your assignment is to begin engaging the spirit of depravity in battle.”

He then spent a few minutes giving me instructions from the Lord God of Hosts.

The above is a scene from my soon to be published novel, Jonah.

(Continued in Part 2)

“War is hell.” (General William Tecumseh Sherman)

“It is fatal in any war to enter it without the will to win it.” (General Douglas MacArthur)

“Nobody ever defended anything successfully; there is only attack and attack and attack some more.” General George S. Patton)

General William Booth, founder of the Salvation Army, received a message from a lieutenant in a distant city: “While preaching on the streets today, we were attacked by saloon keepers and their mobs. Some of us ended up in jail; some in hospitals; and the rest of us are fearful. What shall we do? Surrender?”

Booth immediately sent a reply: “Surrender? Never! It looks like you’re finally having some success in your city. Continue the battle.”

Looking at today’s Salvation Army, it’s hard to envision the militant spirit of General Booth (1829-1912). His motto, “Go for souls, and go for the worst,” compelled him to preach in front of gin joints, saloons and brothels. Night after night, he returned home, bruised and bleeding from stones, beatings, hot tar and whatever the angry mobs threw at him. At home, he would then pray with his wife, Catherine, for souls. Then, the next day, he went back on the streets, preaching salvation to angry crowds.

His preaching converted thieves, prostitutes, gamblers and drunkards. Then, these converts were encouraged to become  evangelists themselves and join him on the street, preaching and singing to crowds. In this manner, cities were shaken and slums changed for the better.

His secret: all night prayer meetings and tears.

Booth never cared that newspapers lambasted and ridiculed him. He just figured it went along with his calling to save souls. Even when spat upon, he thought of it as a badge of honor.

During the course of Booth’s life, he traveled 5,000,000 miles and preached 60,000 messages, mostly on the streets. His advice to his Salvation Army: “Work as if everything depended on your work, pray as if everything depended on your prayer.”

If ever America needed men like General Booth, we need them now.

Christianity’s tolerant, wish-washy, lovey-dovey, “God loves you no matter how you live and how big your sin” message is not working. Sin now abounds in America’s cities, especially San Diego, Los Angeles, San Francisco, Portland and Seattle, but where are the grace messages, confronting and combating this sin?

Where are the General Booths who are willing to stand in the streets of Compton, South LA, the Castro District of San Francisco, other inner cities and gay communities and speak the truth to them? Where are the men who have the courage to proclaim: “Go and sin no more?”

If you hate ugly messes, find a comfortable seat on the sidelines and keep quiet. Why? Because this will be a messy, long war to deliver people in gay communities, inner cities and out of gangs.  Well-meaning Christians with soulish pity will end up on the wrong side in this war and will oppose Spirit-backed men and women with the word of the Lord in their mouths. It will be an absolutely ugly mess. Christians against Christians. And Christians against the world system and its media.

You need to overcome the tug of people against you as you reach for high goals. (General George S. Patton)

The internationally known prophet asked for prayer after his meeting at the church I attended at the time. Some of us gathered around him and began praying. After a few minutes, a prophetic word crossed my mind.

“The calling of apostle will come upon you in the near future, but first, I see you pastoring a small church,” I said. “The Lord wants you to really understand people before he moves you into the apostolic calling. From the small church, you will walk into a world-wide apostolic ministry.”

Most believers would have been happy to receive an encouraging word like this, but not that particular man. This same prophet, who had taught us earlier in the evening about the love of God and about the importance of humility, rebuked me sharply.

“I spend lots of time in prayer,” he said. “So, don’t you think the Lord could speak prophetic words like that to me in my prayer time?” His eyes revealed his anger at me.

To be honest, I was shocked by his reaction. “Uh, well, uh, I guess so,” I answered.

“Then why do I need a prophetic word from you?” he asked.

I shrugged my shoulders. “I don’t know,” I answered, not knowing what else to say.

This eye-opening incident really happened to me sixteen years ago and it’s as alive in my memory banks today as if it just happened yesterday.

The crux of the matter was not whether the prophetic words were accurate or not, but rather, it was that I was not at the prophet’s spiritual level. I was a nobody. If I had been a Billy Graham, Rick Warren, David Yongi Cho or some other well-known international minister, he never would have spoken those words to me. Instead he would have said, “Thanks for the prophetic words. I’ll pray about them.”

Now, if you think this is a unique and seldom occurring event, I have news for you: it’s not! For most of the tradition church system, there is a hierarchy system set in place where only certain people are allowed to speak words of direction or correction to the ministers who lead (usually called the clergy) and the pew sitters (known as the lay people) have little voice in these matters.

But yet, when one of the original apostles, Peter, became a hypocrite in Antioch, the young apostle Paul had no problem handling the situation:

But when Peter came to Antioch, I had, to oppose him to his face, for what he did was very wrong. When he first arrived, he ate with the Gentile Christians, who were not circumcised. But afterward, when some friends of James came, Peter wouldn’t eat with the Gentiles anymore. He was afraid of criticism from these people who insisted on the necessity of circumcision. As a result, other Jewish Christians followed Peter’s hypocrisy, and even Barnabas was led astray by their hypocrisy. (Galatians 2:11-13)

Do you think Peter was embarrassed? Probably. Do you think Peter wanted to lash out at Paul? Probably. This is usually how our flesh reacts to being rebuked, or at least, this is how mine reacts at the time.  Then, what do you think Peter felt when he saw the above letter sent to the churches in Galatia and his name mentioned as a hypocrite? Once again, he was probably a little miffed, but did he hold a grudge against Paul?

And remember, our Lord’s patience gives people time to be saved. This is what our beloved brother Paul also wrote to you with the wisdom God gave him— speaking of these things in all of his letters. Some of his comments are hard to understand, and those who are ignorant and unstable have twisted his letters to mean something quite different, just as they do with other parts of Scripture. And this will result in their destruction. (2 Peter 3:15-16 NLT)

Peter, the man who had the revelation that Jesus was the Christ and who was chosen to accompany Jesus on the mountain when He was transfigured and talked to Moses and Elijah, was a humble man of God. He stayed small in his own eyes and was a seeker of truth.

The apostles are coming, not to be a part of the hierarchical system, but rather to blow it apart. Will the apostles rebuke the leaders of the traditional church system? Most likely, very little. But instead, the humility displayed by these soon-coming apostles will attract the long suffering pew sitters out of the traditional churches and into their royal priesthood callings. The captives will finally be set free.

The apostles are coming!

(To be continued in the future)

 

Flickering candles scattered throughout the family room provided light for the home church as shadows danced across walls. The adults sat on a leather sectional, a matching loveseat and a brick fireplace hearth while the children sprawled out on the carpet. The scene was reminiscent of a time when the church’s existence was threatened by Nero’s bloody pogroms. And like those early Christians, the group huddled together seeking refuge from a cruel enemy, searching for more victims to devour.

Perhaps, the angel of death will pass us by, Luke thought. But how will that happen?

Then Luke looked around the room at the home church’s members. Ike and Hannah Albertson, Juan and Debbie Rodriguez, Ezra and Bonnie Cho, Ben and Myra Goldberg, Tim and Margie O’Riley and all the children.  Luke’s wife, Cat, sat next to him on the hearth. All were present and none seemed to have suffered major injuries from the nuclear bomb.

Yet, death hung like a drape over the assembly. Everyone felt its evil presence. It was an all-out battle to keep panic and the “if only’s” from invading their thoughts.

But what struck Luke as utterly amazing were the children. They seemed peaceful. A few even played quietly in the breakfast nook. Others sat in front of their parents on the carpet. Margie’s four month old baby even giggled and kicked his feet on her lap.

We need to be more like children, Luke thought.

His inner meditations were overridden at times by the outside sounds of explosions, distant sirens and the roar of raging fires. The external commotion from the aftereffects of the nuclear bomb only added another lead brick to the group’s emotional overload.

Then, as Luke Stone sat there, his spirit leaped to life within him. Stirrings like this had occurred in times past as a result of the spiritual gifts, but now, it was even more pronounced. Divine strength eclipsed his human weaknesses and fears. Where just seconds before he had seen nothing but impossibilities, he now saw opportunities. A heaven-inspired plan formed in his mind.

He stood up and looked around at the assembly.

“Four lepers sat in the midst of a disaster when they said to one another, ‘Why are we sitting here until we die?’ Having nothing to lose, they marched toward the enemy’s camp. The Lord then amplified the echoes of their footsteps, causing Israel’s foes to retreat from the battle site. Thus, triumph swallowed up defeat. This victory was not accomplished by a group who continued to sit within their walls of safety. It happened because a few men decided to ignore their circumstances and weaknesses and do something.”

The assembly focused their eyes on him. They needed no announcements or advertising hype to inform them that the mantle of the apostle rested upon Luke. They knew. And like Paul the apostle, Luke did not speak with persuasive words of wisdom, but instead, he demonstrated the Holy Spirit and power so that the people’s faith rested not in him but on the power of God.

“Now, like the four lepers, we have a decision to make. To sit here until we die, or to obey God,” Luke proclaimed.

Luke paused and did not bully the group into following his beliefs. He knew this was the Holy Spirit’s job and that He would guide them into the truth. (Short excerpt from an upcoming book, LA Died Today)

The apostles are coming, not to sit in large churches and receive adulation, but to advance the Kingdom of God against impossible situations and bring glory to the King.

(Continued in Part 3)

The university auditorium was packed to capacity for the debate between Dr. Hiram Love, author of Gays Are Holy, Too, and Paul Simon, a Christian businessman. The middle-aged businessman was a last minute replacement for a noted Christian apologist who suffered from the flu.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we welcome you to tonight’s debate,” said the moderator. “The topic for our debate, Is Homosexuality A Sin, seems to be a hot-button subject in our state right now with the Prop 8 vote and its follow-up lawsuits. The format for our debate is that each debater has thirty minutes to put forth his views on whether or not homosexuality is a sin. Then, in the second hour, the two will go head to head in a point and counterpoint match up. Dr. Love won the coin toss and will go first. Dr. Love, are you ready?”

Dr. Love nodded and walked to the podium. His herringbone sport coat with brown leather elbow patches added a professorial look to his thin frame and bearded face.

“Do you know how many times Jesus mentioned homosexuality was a sin in the four Gospels?” said Dr. Love. He paused as his blue eyes scanned the audience, as if looking for an answer. Then, he added, “Not once!”

A short titter raced through the audience.

“That’s right, not once,” said Dr. Love. “Wouldn’t you think that such a supposed vile and abominable sin as homosexuality would have at least been mentioned once by our Lord? He mentioned divorce as a sin. He mentioned greed and idolatry. But not once did he mention homosexuality.”

Dr. Love spent the half hour laying out the hypothesis that homosexuality was not a sin by what Jesus did and did not mention. He referred to Jesus’ words, the red letter ones of the four Gospels, as the framework for Christianity.

When Dr. Love finished, the audience softly clapped their approval. He backed away from the podium and walked over to his chair on the right side of the stage.

“Mr. Simon,” said the moderator, “are you ready?”

Paul Simon nodded.

The audience checked him out as he walked from his chair to the podium. His short stature, undistinguished features and ill-fitting sport coat were noticed by all. Who let this country yokel in here? The audience collectively wondered.

“Jesus’ main message was about the Kingdom of God,” said Simon, in a stammering voice. “The Apostle Paul further defined the Kingdom when he wrote: ‘Don’t you realize that those who do wrong will not inherit the Kingdom of God. Don’t fool yourselves. Those who indulge themselves in sexual sin, or who worship idols, or commit adultery, or are male prostitutes, or practice homosexuality, or are thieves, or greedy people, or drunkards, or are abusive, or cheat people—none of these will inherit the Kingdom of God.”

Simon caught his breath before proceeding, “The apostle Paul also stated that the Kingdom does not consist in words, but in power.”

Next, Simon stepped to the side of the podium and switched on his lapel microphone. Every eye watched him.

“When I was asked to replace the featured Christian debater, I told them I’m not a great speaker and I had two requests. One was for a lapel microphone. And two, I asked to be allowed to demonstrate my position on the Kingdom of God. They agreed to both of my requests,” he said as he walked down the steps of the stage to the audience level.

He walked over to a woman sitting in a wheelchair next to a front row seat.

“Ma’am, would you please stand up?” he asked.

“What?” said the thin lady who looked to be thirty years old, “I can’t stand up. I’m totally paralyzed and have been since an auto accident twenty years ago.”

“In Jesus’ name, stand up,” proclaimed the man.

She jumped out of the wheelchair. Then, realizing what happened, she walked and ran and jumped. She screamed, “I’m healed.”

Her parents ran to her and joined the celebration.

Simon turned away from the lady and continued praying for other people. A blind man received his sight. A woman’s lungs were cleared of emphysema. A college football player’s knee was healed. He prophesied over people and prayed for many others.

When his half hour was up, Simon returned to the podium. He turned toward Dr. Love and said, “Let’s see you confirm your teachings with miracles, signs and wonders. If you can’t, then why should anyone listen to you?”

Dr. Love stood up and walked off the stage, not looking back at the apostle of God.

And my message and my preaching were not in persuasive words of wisdom, but in demonstration of the Spirit and of power, so that your faith would not rest in the wisdom of men, but on the power of God. (1 Corinthians 2:4-5)

This is only a glimpse of the near future because the apostles are coming.

(Continued in Part 2)

This series is a continuation of the earlier eight part series which can be seen here.

Have you ever seen World War II films showing German bombers flying over London and anti-aircraft guns firing up in the air at them? Every fourth or fifth bullet was a phosphorous tracer shell so the artillerymen can track their firing and adjust their aims. The skies lit up with these phosphorous bullets of light heading toward targets overhead.

This was what it reminded me of when I looked up because thousands of bullets of light ripped through the heavens toward the spirit of depravity. The bullets came out of San Francisco, from other American cities, from foreign lands and especially out of China and Korea. None seemed off-target. They converged at a specific point on a force field of some kind that shielded the principality. The force field appeared to have a spiritual life to it.

As I continued watching, I noticed a weakening in the force field. A small crack appeared. The look on the principality’s face revealed the alarm and terror it felt from the damage inflicted on its protective shield. The spirit reacted by accelerating its ticker-tape barrage upon the earth below.

“This spiritual warfare is being waged by chosen intercessors against the spirit of depravity. Many of the prayer warriors are former gays, lesbians, sexual perverts, women who had abortions, people involved in the abortion industry and even babies who have survived abortion attempts on them. They have been washed in the Lamb’s blood and delivered from their pasts. Now, they are used – along with others – by the Lord God of Hosts as His air force against Satan’s forces.”

Air force? I thought. The Lord has an air force. Does He have marines? Or a navy, too?

“The small crack in the principality’s force field has come about because of an orchestrated prayer effort by prayer warriors, fasting and proclaiming Psalm 2:8 and Ephesians 3:10 into the heavens.” He touched his ear. “Listen.”

I heard the combined voices of thousands of intercessors praying: “Lord, we ask You to give us the heathen in San Francisco as an inheritance and a possession for Your kingdom. And in Jesus’ name, we command the principalities and powers to let go of San Francisco.”

He remained silent for a few moments before he picked up the conversation again.

“Now, the good news,” he said. “The crack allows the Lord to send a Special Forces combatant into San Franciscoto do some heavy damage on the enemy’s defenses.”

I swallowed hard. A question bubbled up within me.

“A special forces combatant?”

“Jeremiah, you’re the combatant.”

“But – ”

His eyes narrowed.

“Yes?”

“Why not just continue using prayer? It seems to be working.”

“Every battle, every war is different. Jesus, the Commander in Chief, knows best what is needed to bring forth a victory. You need to follow His plan.”

My mind reeled.

“Please, help me understand what I’ve just witnessed.”

“The first woe on San Francisco was a shot across the bow – just to get everyone’s attention. As far as any damage inflicted on the spiritual government over the city, it was minimal. A slight bump in the road for the spirit of depravity. And then, it has been back to normal, business as usual. This time will be different.

“But to truly understand spiritual warfare, you need to remember: Satan was an archangel who understands the government of God. When he rebelled, he became the father of lies and there’s no truth in him. Everything Satan attempts to do is a lying counterfeit of what God does and how God governs.”

He glanced at me, making sure I was on the same page with him.

“Satan’s army wears protective armor just like Christians do, but the demonic armor is the exact opposite of God’s armor. Their loins are girded with lies; their breastplates are unrighteousness; their feet are shod with chaos; they have shields of fear; they wear helmets of eternal doom; and their swords are the lying words of Satan. But there is one important similarity common to both God’s army and Satan’s forces. Can you guess what it is?”

I shook my head.

“Unity,” he said. “Both armies’ success depends on unity. God’s army is unified through faith in God and love of God and the brethren. Satan’s forces are unified in their hatred of God and His followers – and – their fear of God, Satan, each other and bold believers.

“The crack reveals a successful chipping away in the unity and resolve of Satan’s army by the intercessors’ prayers and proclamations of truth. It’s wide enough now for your upcoming prophetic words to enter through it, and then out into the spiritual atmosphere over the city. There your prophetic words will confront speculations and thoughts that are opposed to the obedience of Christ in San Francisco.”

“Will the spirit of depravity counterattack?” I asked, remembering how the principality increased its barrage right after the crack appeared.

“Yes. All wars are filled with attacks and counterattacks, but your prophecies will provide a needed weapon which the saints can use to fight the good fight.”

He stared at me and the silence stretched for nearly a minute.

“The counterattack will be especially rough for you, but His grace will be sufficient,” he said. “Now, I have instructions for you.”

Then, he told me. As he spoke, the gift of faith embraced me.

The above is an excerpt from my soon to be published book, Jonah.

The soon coming prophets will destroy fortresses in cities which have seemed impenetrable for the gospel until now.

For the weapons of our warfare are not of the flesh, but divinely powerful for the destruction of fortresses. (2 Corinthians 10:4)

(Conclusion for now. Next week, the apostles.)

The next morning, Dad paced back and forth in the office parking lot, when I arrived at 8:30. His neon yellow tie hung at half mast on his white shirt, his top button remained unbuttoned. His gray suit coat draped over the blue and white sign in front of the handicap parking space. A scowl etched his lobster-colored face. He was boiling.

“Jeremiah, we need to talk. Now!” he said through clenched teeth.

Dad knows! I thought. How I wish the gift of faith was still working in me. Guess I’ll have to trust in the Lord’s grace to see me through this.

I avoided his blistering eyes and nodded.

“Okay.”

He reached over and slung the suit coat over his right shoulder.

“Follow me,” he spit out over his shoulder as he marched toward his silver Mercedes. “Jump in.”

I opened the door and sat down in the black leather passenger seat. Dad climbed in the driver’s side.

“Better buckle up,” he said without looking over.

The Mercedes’ tires squealed as we pulled out onto Pine Street in front of an oncoming city bus. Instinctively, my right hand reached for the seatbelt and pulled it tight across my dark blue slacks. I snapped it. Then, I tugged on it just to make sure it fastened properly. I straightened my red tie and ironed out the wrinkles in my light blue oxford shirt.

We headed west on the one-way street. Then, he turned a razor-sharp right into the Starbucks on the corner of Octavia Street. He read the confusion on my face.

“This is a timeout, sort of like you use to pull on me when you were young,” he said without smiling. “I was so upset that I didn’t brew any coffee this morning. Like Napoleon, I am senseless without the stuff. Would you like one?”

With our two coffees, we drove north to Lafayette Park. Dad pulled over to the curb and parked. He sipped some coffee. Then, he rotated in his seat toward me, his eyes blazing with fury.

“Now, what were you thinking about when you pulled that stupid stunt yesterday at City Hall?”

The only other time in my life Dad had been that angry with me was when I dropped out of college and broke-up with Kari. This was out of character for him. Usually, he joked around and carried on a light-hearted banter with people.

“Where did you hear about it?” I asked.

“Arlene phoned and said she saw you on Channel 26.”

“Good old Arlene and cable TV, huh?”

“And if Arlene knows, everybody knows,” he mumbled. “Right?”

I nodded.

“So, answer my question, will you?”

“The Lord told me to do it.”

“Oh, boy!” he said with a deep groan. “Does this have to do with your thinking that you’re called to be a prophet?”

“Yes.”

“Jeremiah, Jeremiah, Jeremiah. I thought we were past that by now.”

I blew out a deep breath.

“Dad, it’s my calling – I can’t just lay it down because it causes discomfort to loved ones or me.”

He rose up and pointed a finger in my face.

“Listen son,” he bellowed, “shooting off your mouth in San Francisco will cause bad things to happen to you. This is not the Bible Belt, you know. Open your eyes. This is the liberal capital ofAmerica. San Franciscans hate having their noses shoved into their crappy smelling sins by a Christian who thinks he’s a prophet. Do you hear?”

I looked out the window at two junior high kids who walked by just then. The smaller boy slapped the pudgy one on the back and took off running. The victim stood still for a moment, his mouth hanging open. Then, he ran after the other one yelling, “I’m going to kill you when I get a hold of you.”

The smaller boy stopped a half block away and put his hands to his mouth. “You ain’t never catching me, fat boy.”

Then, he turned and scooted down the street.

“Son, do you hear what I’m saying?”

I nodded but swallowed the hasty words, waiting just behind my teeth.

BUZZ! BUZZ!

Dad answered his cell phone.

“Yes.”

He listened for a long time.

“Okay, we’ll be right there. Tell everyone the sales meeting is canceled for this week,” he said as he started the car.

“It seems the switchboard is lit up with calls for the prophet. Six people want to list their homes with you. Can you believe that?” he said as he shook his head. “I would have guessed your career was buried yesterday, but what do I know, huh?”

The news about possible listings mellowed dad. He reached over and touched my arm. “Son, I’m just trying to help.”

“I know, dad.”

“Did you know Kari got married?” he said as we drove down California Street.

“No, when?”

“Last year. She married a trial lawyer. They bought a home two blocks away from her parents in Pacific Heights.”

“She deserves a good man.”

He glanced over.

“Jeremiah, that should have been you?”

I shrugged and looked out the window.

The years of training in the high desert helped me to not dwell on the what-if’s of life. Still, it required extra discipline on my part to shove this news aside.

Kari in Pacific Heights – oh Lord!

(The above is an excerpt from my soon to be published book, Jonah)  

I’ve included the excerpt to remind us:

Then Jesus told them, “A prophet is honored everywhere except in his own hometown and among his relatives and his own family.” (Mark 6:4 NLT)

If you are called to be a prophet, don’t expect your relatives to be cheering you onward as you point out the sins of cities, states and nations. Jesus had a problem with his family and you can probably expect much of the same.

(Continued in Part 6)

What about Harold Camping’s prophecy of the rapture taking place on May 21, 2011? When the prophecy proves to be false, will its failure muddy up the waters for the true prophets who are coming? Will the waters then be so muddied that most believers will turn deaf ears to the prophetic words coming from these heaven sent prophets?

But when the fullness of the time had come, God sent forth His Son … (Galatians 4:4)

The four hundred years between the writings of the prophet Malachi and the arrival of John the Baptist’s ministry in the wilderness are called the “silent years.” During this period, there were no inspired prophets who heard the voice of God and then spoke to His people. Thus, God was silent.

During the period, much changed in Judah and many Old Testament prophecies were fulfilled. Alexander the Great conquered most of the known world (331 B. C.). Antiochus Epiphanes conquered Jerusalem, defiled the temple and destroyed scrolls (170 B.C.)  The Temple was not restored for 2300 days until Judas Maccabeus cleansed it (165 B.C.). The festival of dedication (Chanukah) was instituted as a commemoration of the Temple’s cleansing. Then, in 63 B.C., Jerusalem and Palestine came under the power and authority of Rome.

And although the word of the Lord was not heard in this four hundred year period, there was no lack of false prophets. Many pretenders wore animal skins just like Elijah and proclaimed they were the fulfillment of the last two verses of the Old Testament.

Behold, I am going to send you Elijah the prophet before the coming of the great and terrible day of the Lord. He will restore the hearts of the fathers to their children and the hearts of the children to the fathers, so that I will not come and smite the land with a curse. (Malachi 4:5-6)

There were so many false prophets, that anyone who claimed to be a prophet instantly became a laughingstock and a joke to all the Jews.

Yet, when John the Baptist clothed himself with camel’s hair and wore a leather belt and then proclaimed, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand,” all of Judea and Jerusalem came out to hear him and to be baptized. Religious leaders feared him and the people called him a prophet of God.

So, what elevated John the Baptist above the false prophets?

He had the anointing to set people free and open their blind eyes. Plus he walked in the season which God had designated for his ministry.

You see, God has a plan with specific seasons within it and He is not swayed by our human foibles or the tactics of Satan. He knows His true ambassadors will move His plans forward when they do it His way and in His timing.

Thus, Harold Camping’s false prophecy is not even a bump in the road for God’s plan nor will the waters remain muddy for long.

(Continued in Part 5)

It was one of those mornings when the church service sprang to life. The worship team sang songs of celebration and their joyful attitude soon caused members to move out of the pews and into the aisles. People were dancing, clapping their hands and shouting for joy. Youngsters jumped up and down with excitement and expectation. Something good seemed to be happening in their midst.

The conservative pastor clapped his hands and tapped his foot to the music. He turned his head to scan the whole congregation. Then, he saw him, sitting in the second row by himself, near the wall. The middle-aged man was weeping and looked like he had just received news that his best friend had died.

The pastor walked over to the man. “Jeremy, what’s the problem?” asked the pastor, his eyes revealing a deep compassion.

“I just had a vision,” said the man in between sobs, “and in it, I saw our church going through horrendous times ten months from now. Many in the congregation will lose their jobs and the congregation will be reduced by half. We will be forced to cut back on all of our community programs. It will be devastating!”

“Oh my!” said the pastor, wondering if the prophet would be as accurate this time as he had been so many times in the past.

Ten months later, the church service resembled a funeral. The worship team sat in the first row, none of them felt like singing, and even if they did, there were so many empty pews, just too many empty pews.  All felt the crushing agony of the closing of the mill. People were out of work and losing their homes. Everything seemed to be changed forever for the worse.

The pastor sat lost in his thoughts, hoping to stir up a message within himself which would encourage the group. But he himself had suffered the pain of his wife leaving him and he wondered if he should resign his position and find a different career.

Then, he looked over the congregation and saw the man named Jeremy standing in the second row, near the wall.  He was jumping up and down, waving his hands and shouting for joy. It looked like Jeremy had just won the Irish Sweepstakes.

The pastor strolled over to the man. “Jeremy, why are you celebrating when the rest of us are suffering such agony?” asked the pastor.

“Pastor, I just had a vision,” said Jeremy, “and in it I saw that eight months from now our church would be bursting at the seams with new members. A foreign  company will buy the mill and enlarge it. And your wife will return to you and your marriage will be better than ever.”

The pastor shook his head. I hope he’s right, he thought. I hope the prophet is right this time.

Surely the Lord God does nothing unless He reveals His secret counsel to His servants the prophets. (Amos 3:7)

I have declared the former things from the beginning; they went forth from My mouth, and I caused them to hear it. Suddenly I did them, and they came to pass. (Isaiah 48:3 NKJ)

(Continued in Part 4)