Highest and Lowest

When worshiping tonight, I had the urge to lay down on the floor. I’ve never done that before, at home, in my kitchen. The rest of the family was out and I had a long, random Youtube video playing through my speaker – a One Thing conference worship session. After The Lord met me in a precious way as I interceded for some people, I dropped to the floor and stayed there for awhile. Not thinking of the dirt or crumbs. Arms out. I did wonder what my kids would say if they walked in. But they didn’t.

I noticed some things when I got low to the ground. I didn’t want to get up. I felt almost weighted. I just wanted to be silent, not move, and soak in the words. Or sing. Or yell them. My poor neighbors. Then be silent again and think about Him. All kinds of things about Him. I asked Him if He would give me a vision, but He didn’t. I am realizing I don’t really know how to be still for long. I don’t know how to quiet my thoughts…or let my mind go blank for Him to write on. But I’ve heard it’s possible and it sounds awesome. So I’m going to practice it. See what happens.

I remember this thought I had as I lay: It is right for me to be down here. So low.

Not like, “I’m nothin’ but a lowly worm” off-base humility kind of thought, but like, “Jesus, you are higher than all. And I cannot get physically any lower than this. How are we close tonight? How is it that I can feel you here with me like this?”

There was a rightness about it, this is difficult to explain.

The song ended. I wiped my tears with my sweater, got up a little weak, and started making myself a tasty fajita. All was well with the world.

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My Dream

On August 25th, I woke up from a dream – one that was still clear in my mind. A week or so before, I’d prayed that God give me a dream – one that would be easy to understand.

In the dream, I was visiting a Bible college to hear Louis Palau speak. After his sermon, there was great worship & I was caught up in the Spirit…lost in the moment. As I was leaving the sancuary, a long time friend of mine, Beth, approached me and said, “I have to ask you something. Do you know a Frank?” I replied Yes. And she said, “I feel like God wants me to tell you that his health is failing and that he wants to forgive.”

As I made my way to the lobby and sat in a comfy chair, a young teen Asian girl behind me I realized lost a necklace pendant. She had dropped it on the floor and was looking for it & others were helping her. I heard them searching and heard the word “wicca” as she was trying to describe it.  She found & snatched it up, and as she was standing back up with it held tightly in her hand, she looked me straight in the eye with intent.

She quickly, almost forcefully extended that hand with the satanic pendant in it toward me, but still held it tight. I knew she was trying to put some kind of hex or curse on me. I tried to speak, “I WILL NOT be cursed. I will be BLESSED in Jesus’ name.” But my mouth would not open. It felt glued shut. She did it a second time & I tried a second time to say those words in response. But got the same result. She “threw” it toward me a third time and frustrated as I’ll get out, I tried a third time & this time, my mouth was opened wide and my words came out clear as a bell.

“I WILL NOT be cursed. I will be BLESSED in Jesus’ name!”

 

…and I woke up.

 

A Word

At the end of January, I went to a conference where an acquaintance came up to me and gave me a word from the Lord. It was in the middle of an extremely loud part of worship for youth, and I was doing just that – worshiping like there was no tomorrow. She had to literally yell into my ear. I thought she was going to tell me I was being distracting, so it was a relief to hear her say that she wanted me to know she feels really strongly that God wants to tell me that he knows my heart, and he is proud of me. To remember that I am his, an heir of his; and I have access to all he has for me. So whatever it is I need from him…

ask.

I had to approach her in a quieter setting later to see if I heard her right, and I did. I believe this word. But I often times forget that I have an all access status with my Father, the King. And that when I come to him with a right heart, he is not shaking his head in judgment of me, saying under his breath, “not her again. what’s she want now… a new day, a new request”. He is not.

He is not that kind of father. He is not that kind of King

He desires me to love him; to surrender everything

And when I walk up to his throne, if timid or courageous

He sees my heart, its motives bare…on scribbled journal pages

Unlike any father who has ever loved his child

Never disappointed, taken back by choices wild

His arms will never tire of the reaching they must do

For I am his beloved, and it is I, he will pursue

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Tonight, a friend told me that she had a scripture for me, and I cannot help but see similarities to that Word given to me in January. It is from Psalm 41.

1 Blessed are those who have regard for the weak;
the LORD delivers them in times of trouble.
2 The LORD protects and preserves them—
they are counted among the blessed in the land

11 I know that you are pleased with me,
for my enemy does not triumph over me.
12 Because of my integrity you uphold me
and set me in your presence forever.

13 Praise be to the LORD, the God of Israel,
from everlasting to everlasting.

 

Amen.

I know that it is only by the grace of my Father that I can even claim to have integrity. It is by his pure Holy Spirit that washes me and whispers to me daily. How I praise Him.