Life Speakers and Bad Breath Breathers

Isn’t it funny how a breath mint can be the difference between a moment with someone being sentimental and precious vs. terrible and nasty?

There are times when I’ve been in close quarters with someone and all I can think about is how little I can breathe from the fog-cloud they are creating between us and how much I’d like to throw a breath mint in their mouth while they are talking. I hate to say it, but I have noticed that this problem seems to rage to special heights in churches. Who’s idea was it to serve everyone coffee before social time? What a ministry.

Maybe our true church ministry should be providing breath mints to the needy.

I love coffee. So I’ve often found myself in this awkward position of having just inhaled a cup or two during a service and then realized that the Lord is putting it on my heart to go and pray for someone. So then there’s the mad “gum scramble”, during which we have about fifteen seconds to ask everyone in our row if they remembered to come prepared. Usually they haven’t. And so the apologies to the one seeking prayer begin.

In a way the coffee-breath ministry can be easily related to our words, and ultimately our hearts, because the Bible says that our words are a reflection of what we have inside. I think it’s probably wise for each of us to ask ourselves every once in a while, “What is coming out of my mouth?”

God has made it abundantly clear to me and my husband during this season of our lives that He is going to battle for us. It’s cool to think about, but only for a second or two. Because after He confirmed that to us, we quickly realized that meant we had been put on the sidelines. Yes, we are out of the game. We have given the Lord permission to go to bat for us, but that means we aren’t going to bat at all.

On the plus side, God has never lost a game.

On the down side…It means we need to constantly check ourselves so that we make sure we aren’t picking up any spare sports equipment to try and jump into the game. If I rush out there the ref will blow the whistle for having too many players on the field and I’m either going to take a penalty and get suspended from the game, or worse, the whole season. This is something I have learned a lot about these past few years, that when God tells us to trust Him, we have to. There is no alternative. There is no “Maybe I’ll just do this one thing,” or “Things would be better if I just spoke up and told my side of the story.”

Stop it, you. Just stop. When God says to trust Him, then TRUST HIM.

Ugh, the agony. No one likes to sit on the sidelines. But I have begun to realize how peaceful it is over here.

Distrust in God always has way more consequences than trusting Him.

That is a statement I should tattoo to my own forehead. Because the person who took the biggest hit from my distrust last season was me. It’s been a long break between seasons and God has revealed so much to me about those times, and taught me so many things about my own life as I have been on this break. He called a penalty on me and I was forced back onto the sidelines for a while. Even writing blogs was out of the question for a time, as I learned to “trust myself to trust God”. Distrust has consequences. But even more than that, it carries baggage. My heart has always been to minister to the broken-hearted, and to share His unrestrained love to those who feel hopeless. If that’s truly my heart, then God will give me those opportunities. I don’t need to try and find them myself.

The strange part about this new season is how much more prepared I am going into it. Learning, even if it’s by mistakes, is invaluable. At first it seemed like punishment, God calling me to stay at home and be involved in less in every area of my life, but over time I realized that He wasn’t mad. He was just equipping me to get back out there, patting the dirt off my jersey and giving me a Coach’s speech so that when I did re-enter the game I would be ready for it this time.

I think that God brings us through the same tests that we have failed in the past, so that we have another chance to pass them. This season is different in some ways, yet there are many similarities to what we as a family are experiencing. It would be easy to default to my former self, the one who would have felt the need to plead my case and speak up to defend myself when people are getting the wrong idea about what is happening. But the biggest difference between this season and the last one, is me. God is pulling on his batting gloves and scanning the field. Something major is about to happen and I don’t want to ruin it by jumping in and giving my team a penalty. And if I can wait, and trust in Him, we might just walk away with a trophy or two.

One thing that the Lord has been majorly pressing into us is that right now He is watching and waiting. During the stretches of desert that we seemed to be trudging through as we were trying for a baby, and wondering what God’s plans were for what is now our home in Shingletown, He told us over and over again that His timing was perfect, and He sees all things. Rushing wasn’t on His agenda, so we had to take it off ours. We couldn’t push God’s timing, or there would be consequences. We couldn’t make a move without His leading, or kick open the doors that He hadn’t opened yet. HIS timing is perfect. And He sees ALL things.

Here, take some of His peace. You can have it. It’s free. *Hand thrust forward* 

Trust really is its own therapy, once we finally give in and let it be our way. I’m sure this is the way God intended us to live as Christians, to love everyone, address every person with respect, and forgive no matter what. The hardest people to forgive are the ones who need it the most, and are probably suffering from something themselves. When we love and pray for those that make things harder on us, we are releasing Heaven into the atmosphere and breaking chains that the enemy has tried to place over us.

Jesus is the King of Love, and He dishes it out in handfuls. It’s easy to love others when we remember just how much He loves us, and what He’s willing to do for us (which is everything, even dying). So I’m sitting out for this season, until the Lord hands me a catcher’s glove and sends me out onto the field. His timing is perfect. He sees all things. And right now, He’s watching, He’s studying the game and all of the players, and He’s waiting…

God has called all of us to be speakers of life into every situation, and to contribute to the trust we are supposed to have in Him. He has called us to be unified before His throne and to keep our eyes on the things of Heaven. I don’t want to be a bad-breath-breather. I would rather muzzle myself than speak negativity into the situations around me. Instead I think I will let God bring everything into being, since that’s sort of His thing, and watch in amazement as the incredible begins to happen.

Thank you Jesus for everything. Every accomplishment and moment of glory goes straight up to you.

So there you have it. Now let’s all go buy a whopping bag of breath mints for Sunday. Bring enough to share.

 

 

 

 

 

Hunt Your Dragons before You Come

It only makes sense. As children of a Holy King we are fully equipped to be dragon slayers.

One of the hard things I’ve had to learn in my twinkling twenties is that dragging around baggage into areas where the love of Jesus is supposed to shine is inappropriate, un-classy, and just plain bothersome. In order to walk in freedom we need to release those things into the hands of our all-powerful Commander of Angel Armies.

I am the first name on this “guilty” list. I have done this too many times, especially when I was just starting to fine tune my spiritual ears to hear the voice of God, because before my twenties I didn’t even really understanding what listening was. I was what I like to call, a “RUSHER”. Everything must be done instantly. The moment I got a vision, I believed it was only going to work if it happened overnight.

Well that doesn’t leave God any time to move, now does it?

I have learned a couple of times over that God prefers to drag things out, not to torture those of us who are impatient, but so He can teach us things along the way. There are hidden treasures in this, worthy of discovering. Things that will change our lives. Things that will turn out to be the solutions to other unrelated problems if we let God work. Things we will take with us for the rest of our days so we are stronger and can do more. These little gems are what I believe Heaven’s storehouses are bulging with. And if we are patiently looking for them we will find them. If we are not then we are no different than crazy children running around and grabbing candy at Halloween. After we consume it all we will probably feel sick.

I don’t think there’s a Christian on the planet who isn’t guilty of bag-dragging. It’s really hard not to bring our inner conflict with us everywhere, our negative mind-dialogue, and our limb-flailing fears. But God’s plan isn’t for us to walk while pulling seven or eight hefty bags behind us through the dirt, rather, it’s His plan that we walk freely. It’s His plan that we trust in Him for what we need, because if we need it He will provide it, and if He doesn’t provide it, it’s probably because we are delusional about what we need.

In every situation, whether you are on your way to church or on your way to work or on your way to a family gathering, its best to spend five minutes (it literally doesn’t take more than that) by yourself and say to God, “I give you all of these things.” If you know what your dragons are, speak them out, hand them over and take away their power. If you don’t know why you are feeling like garbage and want to pound on the walls, you are probably PMS-ing. Just kidding. You’re probably dealing with something deeper than surface level issues. But I promise you that even if you can’t exactly pin point what your problem is, God knows what it is. Ask Him to take it. Then invite the love of Jesus to come in and fill you. Trust me, if you head out of your house this way you will have a much better time and all the people who you want to karate chop off a cliff will suddenly be much less horrifying.

The love of Jesus conquers all. Every time.

No dragon is bigger than the Holy Army Commander. So take that mighty sword and chop off that ugly dragon’s head. Hiya!!!

This might seem obvious and simple, but I went a long time before coming to this conclusion. And now it’s my go-to. Even on good days I try to remember to do this, because it makes my heart so much bulgier. And everyone wants a bulgy heart.

That’s what I wanted to share today. Bless you all!

Try Not to Eat the Menu

My kid eats paper. It’s weird.

Recently he ate part of the back cover of one of my friend’s books. He thinks this is hilarious and I really can’t figure out why.

A little while ago he got his hands on a pizza menu and had consumed a hefty corner of it before we realized. He thought it was funny as we panicked and tried to fish the cardboard out of his mouth. I would love to some day understand what goes through that little head of his on a daily basis. Seriously. There are so many yummier things than paper.

Lately God has been helping me to understand a few things as I pray in preparation for the worship conference that is going to be taking place at my church. I am so ready for the Lord to deliver people from sickness, physical pain, mental problems, strongholds, outstanding debts, whatever. But there was an instance recently where I prayed for someone and they weren’t healed. I found this to be discouraging at first, and continued to pray throughout the week, “God, please, please heal this person!” I couldn’t figure out what had happened. I had released the healing power of Jesus into this person’s body, the healing power that also resides in me. This person should have been healed.

I think this is something that happens often, and sometimes we leave feeling confused and question God about what happened. After all, there is enough of the Holy Spirit for everyone to be healed. Always. It doesn’t run out or run dry.

Well God has been pressing a few Biblical accounts into my heart lately and for some reason I didn’t make the connection until this week. I feel almost foolish for missing the point He was making, because as I look back I realize how obvious it was. God wasn’t asking me to go into this with a method. He was asking me to go in with obedience.

I’ve always considered myself to be someone who didn’t use formulas, and didn’t go in with any preconceived ideas about how something was supposed to look. I didn’t want to put God into a box and try to tell Him how to heal someone or what He should do. I wanted to look around the room and ask God what He was doing, and only move when He told me what He was going to do. I must have been living on another planet because this is actually what I thought I was already doing.

The truth is, God doesn’t need my help to heal the sick, to deliver someone from depression, or to restore a relationship. And if I am living under some delusion that I can go in and fix these things, I’m wrong. My job isn’t to seek out the problem and fix it. It’s to ask God where to go and go in the direction that He leads regardless of what I think should be happening, or how it makes me look, and regardless of whether or not I understand what He’s doing. God is almost always doing more than what we realize in the moment. This is humbling. Because over and over again we are constantly reminded that we know basically nothing and are proven wrong if we think we do know things. It’s even slightly comical, really.

How in the world does God not get exhausted from watching us do the things we do? We should probably be more embarrassed by our constant human driven logical thinking. God is enormous, powerful, holy, and mysterious. He is an intricate masterpiece, not a solid one-colour painting. And we are specs of dust in comparison.

Yet we walk into situations where God is moving and think we have the answers. What is wrong with us?

Jesus didn’t approach everyone the same way, and use a perfectly mastered formula to heal each sick person. He said, “I only do what I see my Father doing.” And when He walked up to a blind man, he spit in the dirt, rubbed it between His fingers, which is gross by the way, and smeared it on the man’s face. This probably looked really bizarre. I would have made an odd face if I had watched this happen in person, because I’m not the greatest at remembering to compose my facial expressions. But because of Jesus’s obedience this man got to be healed.

No, there was no pre-planned set of steps that Jesus was going over in His head as He approached this blind man. There was just Him asking the Father what He wanted. God wanted Him to spit in dirt, pick it up, and poke people with it. So strange as it seemed, that was what Jesus did.

All throughout the Bible the followers of God were doing odd things like this. It makes me wonder that if God asked me to do something equally as insane, would I do it or would I think it was too weird? I hope I would do it. I wonder what would happen if I did. Maybe I ought to chuck my “ways to bring healing” menu out the window and just ask God what He wants to do whenever I enter a room. Everything from the past that I am trying to recreate is irrelevant, because today God might want to do something different.

You lead, I’ll follow.

“Seek ye first the Kingdom of God, and all these things shall be added unto you…”

This brings me back to the menu that my son decided to eat for lunch. Can you imagine walking into a restaurant and sitting down to have a meal, but instead of waiting for the delicious feast that was to come, you decided to start mowing down on the menu because you couldn’t see beyond it? Maybe you forgot that there was something better beyond the menu? I have to wonder if maybe I am eating up the menu in my life, eating up the rules and formulas to try and get to the food, instead of waiting for the incredible gifts that God is about to pour out? I think its time to toss the menu aside and say, “Surprise me, God!”

Peace.

The War Ship

It really is like a ship, spearing through the darkest oceans, going to war on behalf of its Captain. I’m talking about worship. Which cleverly, sounds a lot like “War Ship”.

How perfect.

Worship was never meant to be just singing songs for the sake of singing songs. Goodness, how bored I would be. I’ve only seen people fall asleep in church a few times and I’ll admit that every time it was basically hilarious, especially when they grunt a little while they wake up, but I can’t imagine being able to stay awake myself if I went into worship without the intent of really giving glory to the King of Kings and embracing the presence of my Creator.

If I was the Captain of a ship, which I dare say would be just fancy, I don’t think I would want to simply glide along on a sailboat. Too easy. Too dull. And this isn’t because I find sailing to be dull. But if I was a Captain with all the potential to take my vessel on wild adventures sanctioned by the King and wage wars against the most frightening enemies, and all I did was glide along…man. The King of my country would be disappointed in me. I would be disappointed in myself.

Worship can be so much more than we commonly let it be in our lives. Not only is it a way to step into an atmosphere of the Holy Spirit while He is moving and give honour to the one who loves us beyond measure, but it is also a battle cry.

Life sucks? Okay. Go worship.

Terrified of something? Okay. Go worship.

Suffering from pain? Go worship.

Fell empty? Lonely? Tired? Overworked? Jealous? Hurt? Worship.

There are a lot of tragedies in this world. Unfortunately that’s probably not going to change. But when we rise from our circumstances regardless of what they are and start to sing a chorus of “Hallelujahs” unto the King, something starts to shift in the spiritual realm and strongholds begin to break.

This is what God has been showing me. That I am to praise Him in whatever state of mind, health or emotion that I’m in. And what happens is a change of heart and an opening of my eyes.

Wow. His glory. Wow.

There is a record of history in the Bible about David, who was heading out to war. He could have stuck his most chiseled, scruffy, ruthless war heroes at the front of his army to intimidate his enemies. But instead he sent the choir, in full hallelujah-swing, ahead of his army. He was striking at the darkness, not with spears and swords, but with worship.

And yes, David was infinitely known for crushing his enemies. His passion to pursue and understand God’s heart was invaluable to his reign as King. Just a harpist, a worshipper, stepped forwards and killed a giant when he was a boy that everyone else was living in fear of. His worship was what also chased away the darkness that was tormenting King Saul.

My weapon of choice, is worship.

The enemy can’t stand up to worship.

Our God is a great God. I’m so happy that he is taking me on this adventure, charging my ship to sail into war against the darkness. He has been showing me so much about love, compassion, and boldness in these times of simply praising him.

I hope that you try this – to respond to any hardships by praising the King. Because He is still faithful in the good times and in the bad.

Peace out.

A Glimpse of Rome Through Geeky Glasses

Dreams. Dreamy dreams. Dreaming of dreamy dreams.

We all have that one dream, the one that never goes away, even if life provides a heaping pile of lofty distractions. Occasionally something reminds us of it and we pause to go back to dreamland for a moment. We let out a long dramatic sigh and for a split second that thing we want the most is so close we can almost taste it.

Nice, isn’t it? To experience it for just a moment? If only everything were possible and we had unlimited amounts of money and each of us possessed our favourite super power.

Really, there is only one conclusion. Dreams suck. Yep. It’s official. We always take it too far by adding on new branches to our dream tree and suddenly what started as a small dream turns into a completely ridiculous impossible venture.

Go us.

I happen to be incredibly guilty of being a ‘brain-wanderer’ (yes I made that term up which is why it’s lame) which leaves me staring off at nothing for long periods of time, getting lost in non-existent worlds or situations. I can sure dream up some funky dreams. Some of them are probably attainable. But I’ll be honest, most of them aren’t.

My biggest dream though is one that doesn’t seem to want to scamper off, even when I try to ignore it, forget about it, or even beat it down. Realistically there is no reason for me to want to get rid of it, except for personal insecurities, but there are always loads of excuses to. For example, I’m a mamma now. Most of my time is already spoken for by a little stump of a creature who doesn’t even know he’s needy. I love him to death quite frankly. Which presents a problem when the opportunity comes around for me to be selfish and take some time for myself. All I want to do with my time is help him, make sure he’s full, gotten his sleep, isn’t afraid, doesn’t feel alone, has clothes to wear, has food to eat and sing adorable songs to gently put him to sleep. It sure makes it hard for me to want to take off and live out my dreams when I care for him so stinking much. He rules my world. What a little punk. It’s like he’s already got me all figured out.

I’ve always wanted to get published and write novels full time as my career. I have many dreams, some you would laugh at because they are so far fetched, but this one trumps them all. I picture myself sitting in some little hole-in-the wall apartment in Rome, Italy, finishing off an epic sci-fi novel that will leave the world with their jaws hanging open in anticipation of what happens next.

This might sound strange. I don’t exactly come off as the well-spoken type. I’m one of those people that can write something that sounds pretty, but the moment I open my mouth I sound like I’ve stuffed my vocabulary into a blender and failed English seventeen times.

No, I don’t want to live in Rome. But some day I would love to travel there and sit with an unhealthy-sized cup of coffee and write an action packed book with just enough romance that all the saps out there buy into the story too. I would wear geeky glasses and everything, just to make it all feel legit.

Pffffft. Ridiculous. Who has the money for that? Or even the time? Seems like a lot of work to make this dream come true. I’m probably better off to stuff it into my “maybe later” box and never think of it again.

If I’m being honest though, I don’t think God gives us dreams for no reason. His reasons though, are likely not always what we think. Maybe He just wants to see if we are willing to give them up to follow Him. Now whether we are willing to give up our dreams for Him, that is the biggest test. It really doesn’t matter where they come from, God or us, we aren’t called to chase after fantasies, even if it would be incredible to wind up in history-splattered Rome with my nerd-glasses and an armful of notebooks with endless ideas.

We just need to praise Him, no matter what we are doing with our lives currently. I think the praises that come directly from the surrendered most abandoned hearts in those face-in-the-mud moments are the most touching to Him. Even if the songs aren’t that greatly written, sung or played. He just wants our true feelings, our true love, scribbled down on a cola stained napkin, and expressed to Him our very best.

I think the little drummer boy had it right.

Peace out.

My Baby’s Butt

It’s not that I’m just bad at hiding my facial reactions, or that I’ve unearthed some putrid smell, its nothing like that. My face is constantly crunching for an entirely different reason, one that no one would know about unless I tell them. My baby, now positioned on the right side of my stomach, keeps shoving its little butt out towards the public, pushing against my inner stomach. It agonizes me to think that my child is somehow already rude, and he hasn’t even met me yet to learn bad manners.

You sneaky little thing. Already trying to get away with stuff. I’d spank your show-off little butt but you always seem to duck back in before I can poke you.

It’s not that painful when he swims around and kicks, a little uncomfortable maybe, but the worst part is that no one else feels it. So if you want anyone to experience the moment with you, you have to tell them “Look at my stomach!” and sure enough, the rascal goes perfectly still in a clever attempt to make you look like a fool while everyone stares and nothing happens.

Every time.

It seems silly, to talk and sing to something that likely can’t comprehend your witty comments and wise counsel. But nonetheless I find myself doing it a lot. We named our baby almost immediately after we knew he was a boy (no I won’t tell you his name so don’t ask. And please don’t try to get it out of me – I’m terrible at keeping a straight face and I will probably give it away if you guess correctly). After naming him, I began to experience other things that I felt belonged to him. Like prayers. It’s not a secret that I’ve been praying that my baby boy would have a heart of worship. I’m not even convinced I know what that looks like, but I sit at my piano and sing worship songs, and pray by scribbling in my journal, that this boy would have the makings of a true passionate worshipper. Worship comes in many forms, not just in music. But if he is born and instantly picks up a variety of unexplainable musical abilities as a mere infant, I won’t be surprised.

The next thing that I’ve been praying is that my boy would be so diligent in his chase for God’s heart. That his strength would flow right from the throne of Heaven. And because of this, he would possess a strength that steadies those around him, like an anchor. I can’t possibly expect my child to get through life without encountering a hefty slew of storms, but when he does I believe that he’ll remain calm and firmly planted in the Lord, and this will create a feeling of safety for those around him. I truly believe my kid will be a protector.

Heart of worship. Chaser of God’s heart. Anchor. Protector. I know that people pray all sorts of things for their children, some fantastic like a passion for justice, a missionary’s heart, prophetic gifts, discerning abilities, seer of miracles, healer of the sick, anointed preacher…all amazing. (Let’s raise up a whole generation of these, yes?) But, worshipper. Steady anchor. Boy oh boy. These are the things I feel called to pray over my first child.

I’m not a mom yet (well technically I’m a mom of a half-human, or whatever my kidlet is while he cooks) and I’m so far from being an expert it’s ridiculous, but if you are a parent then I urge you to pray for your kids if you don’t already. I wasn’t always the easiest child to deal with or contain, but I was so incredibly blessed to have parents who prayed for me, specifically for radical obedience to God and miracles. It’s amazing what I’ve been able to see in my lifetime, likely because of those prayers.

My dream is that my home will be filled with music, the way it was in my parent’s household growing up. I rarely made it through a day without hearing piano, singing, guitar or some other instrument ringing through the house from someone’s bedroom, the living room, or my dad’s office. Worship is so close to my heart. God has shown me this many times.

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While I was preparing for The Love Encounter this year I did a painting called “Love From Heaven”. It’s a picture of rose petals falling from Heaven into a worshipper’s hand. And while I was painting this, I kept singing a line to myself, over and over. Then I would add another, then another. Before I realized it, I’d created an entire song simply from hum-singing to myself as I painted. And it was all about the love of God coming down. I wrote it down and pondered for a while the message that God was sending to either me or the women who would attend the conference. I was so incredibly moved by the love of God in that moment, as I was really made aware that the King of Heaven loves me and knows my name. On the final night of the conference during the Worship Night, I had someone from my church approach me and ask “Do you write music?” I’ll be honest, I was a little uncomfortable even answering. I’ve written music in the past. I used to do it so much it was all I could think about. He went on to tell me that he felt that I should start writing music again.

No, I’m not a striking worship leader and I’ve definitely dropped the ball on keeping up with my musical instruments over the years because of insecurities that realistically are pretty ridiculous, but when God starts to remind me through these things how striking His love is for me…it changes my heart. Instead of fear and insecurity there is suddenly peace and understanding. I’ve had it prophesied over me before that I would “sing over people” as a ministry. It’s so easy to say “Whatever that means…” and forget about it, because embracing it would mean I don’t get to hide in the shadows anymore, but maybe its actually not about me. Maybe its about Him.

This antsy little boy who already has such a hard time sitting still has taught me so much and he’s never even said a word to me. Talking to him, singing to him…I’ve realized so many things. What an unexpected bundle of blessings he’s brought me in my pregnancy. It was all tears, snot and barf in the beginning. But now I get it. I’m borderline terrified to be responsible for a baby, but I understand why God wanted me to be a mom.

Thanks God. It’s like you actually know me or something.

So as I’m decorating baby’s room in navy blue, grey and white, with little elephants, and world maps, I’m dreaming of my boy’s future.

I sincerely hope he’s not a little punk. But if what goes around comes around….

Wakey Wakey.

1908227_10151864286181604_1046793104_nApparently I take a lot of selfies while drinking coffee. I don’t regret it. Which makes me think…

I am shamefully self absorbed.

The thing about coffee is that it has so many perks; brings you out of your sleep-mode, creates a fabulous excuse for a social meeting, and it just tastes so stinking good. How does Starbucks get a Peppermint Mocha to taste like that? It doesn’t seem fair. I suspect the use of magic.

There is something blissful about drinking a warm cup of coffee on a chilly morning. Makes you think of snuggles. Good books. Kittens.

One month until the Love Encounter. It seems hard to believe, but somehow I’m not stressed about it at all. I’m so focused on God’s vision for this, His heart, what He will do. I don’t care to fuss over the other stuff. Booo other stuff.

One thing that seems to be reoccurring, a message that keeps coming to me, is that this conference will be an awakening. So many people are sleeping, maybe even blind. Doubtful. But I feel like God is telling me that this is going to wake up women from all over this region, women who will be activated to go out and start spreading the truth about the grace of Jesus in their schools, or workplaces. It’s like a spiritual cup of hot coffee.

But He doesn’t stop there. I start to think about my church, Wilmot Center. How can I explain this? Well, it feels like something in my stomach is bubbling (not in an indigestion way) and rising up into my heart, making it patter. I feel like this conference is going to birth a revival in my church, starting with the women. My church has been talking about the idea of revival for a lot of years. I’ve heard it many times. A revival, how cool would that be? But people seem tired. They seem half asleep. Everyone is overworked. Sometimes that can be discouraging. But personally I’m not willing to give up. My God doesn’t have limits like we do. Hallelujah – He is overflowing with power! So let’s spew spiritual coffee and spark the movement that is going to bring revival into this church. I love this church. And God loves it abundantly. He wants to see us healed, dancing, free!

Women being brave in the name of Jesus, that is the goal. Women healed. Women set free from bondage. Women alive. Women prophesying. Women redeemed. Women woken up from the dim day-to-day routine of their lives. Women speaking life into others. Women bringing the love of Jesus into their jobs.

It’s going to start with these saturated, infatuated, abundantly caffeinated women! goodvsevilcoffee

I ask that you would lift these things up in your prayers. Let’s cover this weekend encounter and all of these women in prayer so that they can be filled to overflowing with the presence of God.