Supernatural Evangelism

This semester, I took a class called "Supernatural Evangelism." What’s supernatural evangelism you ask? Well, it’s evangelism in which your main goal is to bring God’s presence, love and power into someone’s reality.

Chris Overstreet, my evangelism teacher

The teacher is this guy named Chris Overstreet, who at one point was a 300-pound convict. He found Jesus in jail. Or Jesus found him. Anyway, he’s now a passionate, fearless, rasping, shouting, spit-flying evangelist who travels to many countries in the world. He even preached the gospel when he gave an announcement at church a few weeks ago.  

One thing he said in class struck my heart: “When you tell someone that Jesus died for them, the Holy Spirit falls.”

I thought a lot about that. And the following Thursday morning, treasure hunt day, I woke up with a prayer on my lips: “Jesus, I want to tell someone today that you died for them.”

You see, I’ve gotten into this treasure hunt thing. I love speaking Spirit-inspired words of life and encouragement to people, praying for their needs and injuries, but telling them that Jesus died for them seemed just too… well… I thought I’d feel like caricature of a soapbox preacher on a street corner.

Right now, some of you might be thinking: Who is this? What have you done with  my Anne? Has she turned into some prosthelytizing fundamentalist type?

Since I fell in love with Jesus when I was fifteen, I’ve wanted to share him with people who didn’t know about him but I never knew how, nor had the courage in this “I’m okay, you’re okay” relativistic North American culture. I feel like sharing various aspects of His love has been part of me for a long time, it’s just growing more now.

That Thursday, we headed out behind the Civic Auditorium, where our school meets, across the Sundial Bridge and along the Sacramento River. I was with Marianne, a second-year student from England, and Cassie, a first-year student from Australia.

I saw him coming from far away. I sensed the word “SON” emblazoned over him.

Keith is an older, retired fellow from the San Fran area. He was interested in Marianne’s and Cassie’s accents. We chatted with him. He told us that after he retired, he moved to Redding for the scenery and nature trails. He now works in a group home caring for the elderly. We shared some prophetic encouragement about his job. He seemed moved.

Prophecy declares a person’s destiny or future, while a word of knowledge is something the Holy Spirit tells you about their present reality. I mustered up the courage to share the word of knowledge I felt God was giving me for him.

“I think God’s saying you’re a good son,” I said. “Does that mean anything to you?”

“Yes, actually it does,” he answered. “My Dad and I are having trouble with our relationship these days. I'm trying to care for him but he can be very difficult. I’m trying to be a good son but it’s hard.”

I took a deep breath. “You know, Jesus didn’t just die to take away sin, he died to heal broken relationships.”

He nodded thoughtfully. I continued, “Do you know Jesus at all?”

He told us how he was raised Catholic but hasn’t thought about the church in a long time, although he considers himself a spiritual person.

Along with my love and admiration for this gentle, humble man who loves to serve the elderly, I felt a rising conviction that God wanted him to know more about Jesus. So I told him about how when Jesus died, it’s like a big heavy curtain between us and God was torn down the middle, so we can step through it into the Holy place and have a relationship with God. And how when Jesus died, the curtain separating the Holy of Holies in the temple in Jerusalem actually did tear in two as God’s tangible message to us that He wants us to be able to step into His presence.

We talked more. Keith asked a few questions. After a bit, Marianne said, “Keith, would you like to experience God’s presence?”

He nodded. He held out his hands. We prayed. A blanket of peace fell upon all of us. She said, “Keith, are you feeling anything?” He nodded again. “I feel peace,” he said.

Marianne went on. “Keith, do you want to accept Jesus into your heart?”

He nodded.

As Marianne led him through a prayer, my spirit surged heavenward. I felt giddy with God’s presence and joy. And from the look on his face, so did Keith.

I’m no spit-flying, raspy evangelist like Chris Overstreet, but wow, I think I like telling God's beloved children how Jesus died for them.

- Anne

God speaks

He placed a hand on my back and my chest and squeezed.

“You have a word, don’t you.”

I nodded.

“I want you to speak it.”

Hearing God’s voice inside my heart is the most exhilarating and tender connection to the Father. Scripture is full of God speaking to individuals. David expresses God’s voice intimately in the Psalms. Jesus said, “my sheep hear my voice.” As Christians, we’re called to listen, hear and speak.

We’ve learned a lot about prophesying here at Bethel. Prophesying is just hearing from God on behalf of others. It’s a crucial component of Christian life (1 Corinthians 14).
My pastor called me out on Wednesday morning. Sometimes I need a push and Josh knows me well and followed God’s prompting. A superintendent with the London, UK police force was in the center of a circle of 65 students, all members of our revival group at school. It looked like an NFL pre-game team meeting when the players pack into a tight circle to get one last pep talk from the coach, arms extended toward the middle, the circle almost vibrating with energy.

People were listening to God. There were powerful words spoken over this man whose job is to wade daily through the darkness and violence of sex trafficking, drugs and gang violence. He was obviously touched that God would speak words over him that mean something only to him -- hinting at secrets not known to the speaker but shared at a deep level between he and God.

I know how he felt. I’ve been at the center of the circle too, hearing things that no one else knows -- not enough that it means anything to the person prophesying but an ample amount to show me that God loves me, sees me, cares for me, and longs for more of me.

“I see a baton. But inside the holster it looks like a sword glinting with light...”

The words started to flow. I felt my voice getting stronger. People nodded, agreed, leaned in.

I stopped when I felt that to go on would be to pushing the limit of His leading. I didn’t know the power of the words I’d spoken but I’ve learned to be comfortable with the mystery. It’s about hearing from God, not hearing from Andrew.

A woman in front of me picked up the lyric that God wanted to sing over this man. She too had seen a sword and light. She spoke briefly, quietly, eyes welling up with tears as she felt her heart falling into rhythm with God’s. Someone else picked up where she stopped, shining the light further, bringing more hope and peace over this man’s soul.

Each of us were careful to measure our words. We prophesied things that would build up, cheer up, or drawn near, just as we’re commanded to do in 1 Corinthians 14. We prefaced our prayers saying “I feel God might be saying...” We’re human, after all, and don’t want to laden the listener with a spiritual trip in case we’re not hearing clearly.

Hearing God’s voice and speaking it for the edification of others is an ancient thing Christians have done. God trusts us. He’s always loved working through His children.

Anne has a powerful prophetic gift. I've heard her speak life over strangers serving us coffee, ministering to them at a deep, holy level. It’s amazing to watch them transform, sometimes forgetting why they came to the table.

It’s the 21st century so iPods and phones emerge to record prophetic words at church. Friends know how life-changing these words can be and they want to capture every note God’s singing because they’d want their friends to do the same for them.

I know what this cop will do. He’ll transcribe the recording and listen and pray over these words. He’ll make sure they align with scripture -- which they all did. He’ll ask other believers their opinion of any words he wonders about. And he’ll pray these words back to God. Nothing is more powerful than repeating God’s words back to Him in prayer, just like the Apostle Paul told Timothy to do.

The rest of us walked away renewed. God used us to minister. There’s not much that can bring as much light into one’s soul as when you get to place a piece of gold directly from God into someone else’s.

                                        - Andrew

The miraculous, the mundane and the plain weird

True confession: I don’t love treasure maps.

If you have no idea what I’m talking about, check out my previous post called Finding His Treasure.

Showing someone that they’re on a map and explaining the whole treasure hunt thing just seemed fake or contrived to me. I’d rather just naturally start talking with people in the coffee shop line-up or in the produce department at the grocery store. But one morning before treasure hunts, a fellow BSSM student asked our leader if he was required to use the map.

The leader said yes, the treasure map can be really powerful. So, I said to the Holy Spirit, “If it’s true that the treasure map is important, can you make something match up on my map today?”

So we set out on our treasure hunt.

It wasn’t the best treasure hunt ever. Our first treasure was a former Bethel student. She was encouraged but it seemed like our words and prayer for her didn’t really rock her world. Then we felt we should walk into a hair salon and bless it. It was a little scary, since we ended up in the middle of the salon with everyone watching and listening. But the owners smiled and seemed to appreciate our blessing, so it was all good.

When the treasure hunt was over, we realized that we’d lost one of our drivers and we had one person too many for the car. I volunteered to wait for Andrew to come and pick me up.

Now I should mention that two clues on my treasure map were “someone approaching me” and “shaved head.”

I was standing there waiting for Andrew to pick me up, and this young guy approached me (!) and said, “I just got my hair cut, but I feel like she just shaved my head. What do you think?”

He and I started to talk. I felt like God was saying something about a job for him. So I said, “Are you looking for a job?” He said that he didn’t have a job but he’s not sure if he wants one because he’s on social assistance. I said, “Oh, because I feel like God wants to provide a good job for you.” He said, “I’ve had experiences with God.”

Really? Wow. He went on to describe a couple of God encounters he’s had amidst his drug-riddled meditation life. The funny thing was, the two God experiences he described sounded authentic to me. He said the supernatural peace he received from God once—when he was not stoned—was way different from a drug high.

I asked him if he wanted to experience another encounter with God. He said no.

As with Rick in my previous post, I felt God's love and compassion for this sensitive, spiritual young man. So I tried to encourage him with some of the amazing things I was sensing about him, but he kept interrupting.

So I listened a lot.

When I knew Andrew would be pulling up any minute, I asked if I could pray for him. He said only if he could pray for me. I was a bit hesitant—after all he did tell me he’s possessed by a demon. But I said okay. He said, “Dear God, bless this nice lady. I hope she has a good day.” I was really touched. Once again I remembered how the Lord promised to encounter me with His love on the streets of Redding.

When I prayed for the young guy, I prayed for more encounters with God, for victory in his life through Jesus, for freedom and love and life and peace.

In reality, most treasure hunts are kind of like this one: a mixture of the miraculous, the mundane, and the plain weird. To be really honest, I don’t know whether our conversation or the prayer were meaningful to him. He didn’t seem to care much what I said. I’m not sure I did a great job of sharing Jesus’ love with him—I even forgot to ask his name.

But I believe that this young man is God’s treasure. And I believe that any time we pray in Jesus’ name, something powerful happens. And I know that his prayer blessed me.

Most of all, I have the conviction that both he and I are God’s beloved children and our Heavenly Father will continue to seek us out to bless us, regardless of how we respond. 

- Anne

Finding His treasure

His name was Rick and he had fresh stitches down one side of his face. He had a shaved head and piercings. He looked tough. But somehow, all I felt was how amazing he is.

I met Rick during the practical part of our BSSM program is called our “activation.” The idea is that everything we’re learning gets “activated” or put into practice. Andrew’s activation is serving lunch to homeless people on Saturdays. My activation is called treasure hunts.

The idea behind treasure hunts is that each person is a treasure to God. And God is always speaking to His children. It’s our privilege to deliver a message of love, or a prayer for healing, or a word of hope to people who don’t know that they’re God’s treasure.

When we were training for treasure hunts, we were encouraged to ask the Holy Spirit why we ended up in this particular activation. I asked. He answered, “You are my treasure. I’m going to encounter you with my love on the streets of Redding.”

But most mornings when I headed out to my activation, I wasn’t feeling encountered by God’s love. I was feeling scared.

It all changed the morning we met Rick. I woke up that morning with the whispered prayer, “Jesus, I just want my love and compassion for people to overwhelm my fear of offending them.”

When we first meet up on a treasure hunt morning, we get a treasure “map.” The map has spaces on which we can write locations, names and other details that God might bring to mind. Several of us had Shasta College on our maps. So we set out for the campus. My treasure hunt partner that morning, a pharmacist from Montreal named Mher, not only had Shasta College, but also “Rick,” “stroke” and “soup” all on his treasure map.

Once on campus, we approached two guys at a bus stop. We introduced ourselves asked their names. Rick introduced himself. We asked if there’s anything he needed prayer for. He seemed surprised but said yes, his girlfriend’s mother had recently had a stroke. Mher showed him his treasure map, that “Rick” and “stroke” were both on the map. Rick seemed surprised again, and let us pray for her on the spot.

Right about then I started to feel an overwhelming love for Rick. I started to see him through God’s eyes. Rick explained about the stiches down one side of his face, that he’d been drinking the night before, fallen and hit his head on a curb. We prayed again, asking that the skin on his face would heal quickly and scar-free. 

We asked what program he’s in. Culinary, he said. That explained the “soup.” Then I got word of prophecy for Rick that God wants to give him extraordinary creativity in culinary arts, and I saw him bringing the kingdom of heaven to earth when he cooks. Rick began to beam. Turns out, that’s his dream. Also, he loves to cook for homeless people.

He began to talk about the Lord, how he believes in God but doesn’t like church. He thinks that believers should be sharing God’s love outside of the church, like we were doing. Once again, I felt I had a word for Rick, that he was actually created that way—God made him to take love and justice to the streets, not to sit around in a church building. Rick's face lit up even more.

Our conversation continued. We both got more words of encouragement for Rick. Mher talked to him about a relationship with Jesus. Before we left, we prayed once more to bless him and his dreams.

As we walked away, I was walking on air. Jesus gave me such a love for Rick that talking with him was an absolute pleasure. After we initially approached him, it wasn’t scary at all. And I knew that he hadn’t been offended; rather, he’d been encountered by Jesus, who loves him enough to hunt him down.

Three weeks later, I glanced across the big Bethel sanctuary during worship and spotted a vaguely familiar face in a hood. Two songs later, he pulled off the hood and I realized it was Rick. He was there, worshiping a God who considers him a treasure.  

- Anne

Growth and transition

I haven’t written a blog post in a while. Andrew’s done almost all the blogging in recent weeks. I think it’s because during first semester, what God was doing in me was deep and raw, and I had trouble understanding it, let alone expressing it. I’m usually a verbal processor—either out loud or in writing—but the changes that were taking place in me seemed to defy words.

Also, much of what I was thinking about first semester was introspective, and we didn’t really come here for introspection. We came here to learn how to be world-changers for Jesus. So somehow all the navel gazing I was doing didn’t seem fit to write about.

But I now see that God didn’t just want to bring us here to add to our ministry skills, He wanted to truly transform us. And true transformation requires renewed thinking, from the inside out. So no wonder I was spending a lot of time inside myself. 

In short, during first semester God was stripping away all my false identities, everything that I thought was crucial for my relationship with Him. It wasn’t just about losing the proximity of family, community, ministry and everything else familiar, I also, for a time, lost my hunger and passion for Him.

But He didn’t stop speaking. He told me so many things. He sought me out where I was hiding—sometimes literally at the back of the auditorium—and gave me words from people I didn’t even know. One time a girl I’d never met tapped me on the shoulder and described how she was sensing God sees me. Another time a woman gave me some art that she felt had a message from God for me. Those words spoke about how He loves intimacy with me and how He loves the fragrance I bring to worship, whether I feel His presence or not. And of course there were emails and words of encouragement from many of you.

During first semester, God told me that He has me hidden on purpose right now because it’s a time of rest. He told me that this time of rest is promotion, because certain breakthroughs come from rest that can’t come from work. Sometimes you acquire new territory in the Spirit by fighting and fasting and praying for it, and I’ve certainly had times like that in recent years. Other land you simply inherit as a son or daughter. That’s the stage I’m at right now.

God told me that I’m not to work or fight for approval from Him or from people anymore. He wants so much more for me than to base my identity on being liked.

Recently I’ve been fascinated with the Holy of Holies, the part of the tabernacle in the Old Testament that only high priests could enter to represent the people before God. Did you know that priests weren’t allowed to sweat in the Most Holy place? The other day one of our lecturers surmised that it’s because perspiration represents work, and we can’t work our way into the presence of God, we can only rest our way into it through Jesus’ work on the cross. I like that.

This semester is a new season. I feel a new momentum and excitement. I feel so much more secure in who I am in Jesus. I don’t have anything to prove. I want to minister because I’m overflowing with His love, not to earn anything.

In fact I’ve been feeling an aching and burning in my chest in the presence of God these days. It’s almost like He’s growing my heart to love more and better. When I pray and journal, He’s been telling me that when Holy Spirit power and supernatural love come together, heaven explodes onto the scene.

Out of that place of overflowing with His love and power, amazing things are happening when I go out to spread His love on the streets of Redding, as part of my practical aspect of our Bethel program. In upcoming blog posts I want to share some of those stories.

But for now, I want to say thank you to everyone who prayed and encouraged me through an emotionally tumultuous first semester. The light at the end of the tunnel is blinding and beautiful. 

- Anne

More notes from the fall term

Jason Vallotton

I'm still sorting through my notes from the fall term. Here are some more gems.

Jason Vallotton
Pain says “fix me now”, especially the younger you are. Or it says, "something’s right, keep going." 

"I just give my pain to God" isn’t a good answer. When you don’t acknowledge pain, you forget why you are the way you are. When we don’t see what’s inside us, it begins to form us, the way we think, what we do.

People can shut off their emotions for good to shut out pain. But, Matthew 5:4 - Blessed are those who mourn for they will be comforted and Psalm 126:5 - Those who sow in tears will reap in joy. When you don’t deal with your stuff and your pain, you pass it on to the next generation and you start a cycle of poverty.

How do you know how much to process? If you’ve already dealt with it, don’t dig it up. You’re not allowed to dig up a dead man. Don’t go around looking for bad stuff.

Bill Johnson
Sometimes we grow closer to God through "violence" (Matthew 11:12), other times by being a child (Mark 10:15).
 
There are times when you need to take breakthrough by force. Violence in the Kingdom is faith. When someone puts faith in Christ it is trauma to the kingdom of darkness. Violence can look like prayer walks or fasting -- putting aside all sense of decorum and crying out to God.

Bill Johnson

Then sometimes you realize you’re not going to get breakthrough through fighting. Some things aren’t trusted to soldiers, only to sons. Sometimes there's too much of a chance that you’ll take credit for the breakthrough. When receiving as a child you need to trust.

“Ask me and I will give you the nations as your inheritance.” We don’t fight for inheritance
When the Lord stirs up a violent thing, that passion for breakthrough, he’s trying to teach you about authority. But sometimes He says just stand by. He wants you to use your identity, not your authority. 

People who know their identity don’t have to fight for who they are. It can seem so wrong not to fast and pray but sometimes a season of less activity, and more trust in Him, will lead to your biggest breakthrough.

More Bill Johnson
Don’t settle for a baptism of fire that fits your doctrinal qualifications. Only be satisfied by unstoppable, unquenchable fire that you don’t define, but that defines you.

Kevin Dedmon 

God wants us to encounter His presence so we can become an encounter. I don’t go to an outreach, I AM the outreach. Because I’ve been seeking more of Him so that I leak out His presence on other people. He is Christ in us, the hope of glory.

Come away... again

My pilgrimage took a big step in May 2011 at Cora’s, the breakfast joint in south Guelph.

Anne and I felt God calling us to something new. So much had happened in a few short years. The financial struggles as our small business floundered drove me into God’s loving, gentle arms. Then, the floodgates of God’s blessing opened as we sold the business on the same day that I got offered a great job minutes from home.

Life was good. I was banking an excellent income for the first time in years. I loved my co-workers. We were hammering down debt. We had winter holidays, a new car, tasty food and wine, lifelong friends, a great church, and happy kids living the normal middle-class life. But I had been permanently marked by God. The passion for Him started to grow even stronger. We needed to follow Him with abandon.

It didn’t make sense. Every responsible cell in my body screamed in terror. We'd spent years in the desert. I’d prayed fervently for the rains to come. And now we were soaked in blessing and we were considering leaving everything because we felt God beckoning.

And that’s when I found myself sitting over a plate of bacon and eggs at Cora's across from my close friend, Jim Tice. I told him of the rumblings in my life -- that I was thinking of doing something radical.

“I think you need to listen to God saying ‘just trust me,’” said Jim. His eyes were wide. "And I don't usually hear from God for other people like that."

It was raining when I left. I scooted down the path and cut through parking lots to my office. Something inside me, I think it was God speaking, prompted me to pull out my iPod. I swiveled around to a new album Anne had purchased that I hadn’t listened to yet. It was from Jesus Culture, the Bethel band.

This was the first song I heard. I cried, amazed that God saw me and would speak so clearly. Alone in the elevator, dripping wet, I lifted my hands to heaven.

We’ve reached the midway point of our first year at Bethel and it’s decision time again: What next?

We sacrificed a lot to be here. We sold our house. Our bank account is solid. We're budgeting carefully but it's always dropping. The "responsible" cells in my body are getting antsy. They've been here before. 

It was our first day back at school after the Christmas break. Worship is a key component of every afternoon of class. I took out my journal, planning on finding a quiet corner to sort through our plans -- maybe to think away the growing worry. And anyway, worship has been a tough place for me lately. I prefer being alone and quiet with God.

But a small voice inside me prompted me to drop my journal on my chair and make my way to the front of the auditorium full of 1,200 students. There's plenty of time to write, I thought. It's time to worship.

As I wiggled my way through the crowd to the front, I heard the familiar guitar riff start the first song. 

So I stopped. And I raised my hands to heaven. It wasn't raining this time but my cheeks were wet just the same.

I have a plan for you 
It's gonna be wild
It's gonna be great
It's gonna be full of Me

I don't know what's in store. It's scary, just like it was the first time around. But this time I know even more of God's goodness. He still sees me and I see Him even better.

I wouldn't trade these last few months for anything. My family is reborn. My faith has exploded. 

I know the next step will lead us even closer to Him and it will be just as good. Let it rain.