I'm Going To Write More Poetry

Maybe I'll post some of it on here.

I'm not sure yet.

I'm not great at it. I don't know big words.

All I know is I just did a little bit of it and it felt really good.

But for some weird reason I feel like the Lord is having me interact with Him this way for a while. Maybe it's part of 'my debriefing' (whatever that overused term really means, I have no clue). Maybe it's a time of being artistic and creative in how I express what He is doing. I don't know.

'I just don't know.'

That's a phrase I've been using the past few months more than I ever have in my entire life.

The Refuge

About two months into my desert a year ago (so around the beginning of December), the Lord took me to the Refuge for the first time. I remember the cold weather, the creaking stairs and the ruined carpet. I remember the industrial beige paint that was concealing the blood-stained walls, the dust-outlines of drug paraphernalia and the smell of rotten food in the abandoned refrigerators. I remember the looks on our faces as we listened to Tim tell us the horror stories of each of the 25 rooms- especially when we came to one of the prostitutes' 3.5'x12' rooms with baby toys till lined up by the doorway. Tim kept saying, 'You don't know how you wound up here, do you? That's so awesome. That's how it starts. God's bringing us some warriors. I can tell you are warriors.'

I found it funny that he called us warriors, because all of us were in shock, our mouths hanging open, our eyes bulging, our heads shaking, our fingers quivering and the weight of the story gluing our feet to the ground. He's prophetic, so maybe he could see past the helpless appearance we couldn't hold back, maybe he could see that we all were coming from a place of brokenness in our hearts. Maybe he could see that these nine college students who just met each other 'randomly' the week before were desperate for God to fill them- because after all, He was the one who had just recently broke them.

So I had found myself in this building that once was a crack-house. I thought we were just going to hang out with homeless people and use our Saturday leisure time to do it, intending to sacrifice it 'for the Kingdom,' but God decided to have us meet Tim and receive a heart for the Refuge that day. 

The Refuge is a developing ministry in the homeless community of Oklahoma City. Its building was a highly powered crack-house less than a year and a half ago, and being the neighbor to the city's largest rescue mission, it enabled the addicted that would feed off the rescue mission's provision of food and shelter to stay locked in the cycle of drug-addicted homelessness. At one point, the crack-house was the destination of +60 percent of all 911 calls in OKC and trafficked over a million dollars of drugs a week. Inside its walls dwelled prostitutes, pimps, gang members and leaders, murderers, thieves, con-men drug dealers and drug lords. Porn, the production of meth, cocaine, acid, ecstasy, and heroin... you name it, it was happening here. It was 'the place to be' if you wanted any of it.

These are some of the quotes I have burned in my brain from walking and talking with people who know about this place :

"One of America's Most Wanted was squatting in this room, and as police were chasing him, they through a smoke bomb through a window. He had just murdered someone and raped one of the prostitutes that lived here."

"Someone committed suicide in this closet right over here." (the whole room was black and grey from smoke, the closet being the source of a fire caused by an explosion that tore through the walls)

"This was the lookout room where pimps and gang members would watch for their prostitutes, gang members, drug dealers and cops, so they could be ready."

"They'd make porn in here. I met a girl who said she lived here when they would all take x and lay around naked, watching each other have sex."

But that's the past. Here's what has happened since a year and a half ago :

Tim, the recent owner of the building, bought it a couple years ago as an investor. He lived in California at the time, and when he heard about what was going on, had the SWAT team come in and ransack the place, kicking everyone out and leaving it vacant for Tim to go in and start from scratch, claiming the building as a temple for the Lord. A few times as Tim would be cleaning and praying over a certain room, the tenant or squatter who used to live in that room would come in to the building, up the stairs, and break down in repentance before Tim, calling him an angel from God. Tim would unclog pipes from underneath the floor to find it was a jam of drugs, pipes, broken bongs, and porn material that had caused it.

Each time Tim or one of the 'warriors' God brought to the Refuge would unclog a pipe, paint a wall, or rip up a hallway of carpet, God was busy in the Spirit Realm flowing into what once was clogged, making white what once was blood-stained, and re-flooring what once was a ruined foundation. God is still doing this, everyday. Families (mostly middle to upper class citizens) from California and Oklahoma are selling all they have and moving to The Refuge on California Avenue (funny 'coincidence', huh?) to see that God does what He wants to do in the homeless and addicted community of Oklahoma City.

"Let's Talk... About Spiritual Puberty"

That's how I began my new journal. I've recently realized that I have a lot of things to process, and being the introvert I am, I decided a few days ago to get alone and talk with God. It's been a year full of aloneness with the Lord, but the summer hit me and left me before I could think twice about anything that happened within it. Don't get me wrong - I journaled like a crazy person (as is the pattern this year) the whole time. But somehow, perhaps due to the rapid fire of changes and movements happening in the last three months or so, I've got a bunch of suppressed crap I need to deal with. Okay, it's not crap, but it's a lot of stuff.

So I decided to get alone and have some talks with the Lord, focused and centered, 'in monk - mode' as Phil would describe it. I've discovered it's how prophetic people run away and approach God. And here is a taste of the surprising things I got back from the Lord as I heard him speak just moments after turning to Him this way :

I've learned some more of what it means to be an introvert

It means that after a long day full of people and interactions and work, I want to run home and be alone and introspective, processing the day I just had, getting a hold on myself and spending time to know how that relates to what is to come. Extroverts would come home from that to talk it up with their roommates and process out loud.

This has caused a blockage in me at this point because of the lack of time and availability of my heart to adjust and face the things I found myself doing (touring the midwest with a worship band 12 hours after landing in the States from Africa being the biggie). I realized last weekend that I haven't debriefed yet from a trip that happened almost 4 months ago, and that in and of itself stung a little bit.

I've learned some more of what it means to be prophetic

It means that I am susceptible to getting attached to and defined by an identity (usually in a desert situation) that I have been operating in for a while. Example : I entered a desert almost a  year ago and it changed my life. The phrases used to describe that place are : perseverance, faithfulness in little, seeking the Face of God, prolonged intimacy with God in the quiet places. Due to the life and presence of God exuding from that season, I am dealing with how to feel okay in new seasons. Prophetic people pray, contending for God to come, and when He comes, many prophetic people don't know what to do or how to adjust in rhythm with what is happening. This is where God wants us to grow. He wants us to function in the body. Sure, some prophetic heroes have spent decades in the desert, but the Body of Christ needs prophetic people as much as the extroverted evangelists and teachers.

To sum up, I am being called to find my secret place with God in the midst of relationships and if I don't learn this, I will not grow the way I need to. We have to be stretched to grow.

I was expecting God to receive me a few days ago in the dark room with candles and quiet walks with pastoral figures in my life and tell me how proud He was that I had chosen to be alone with Him. Instead, He has told me I need to learn how to operate from a place of intimacy and rest in the midst of people and relationships.

I guess it makes sense. I've been describing the past month of my life as 'Spiritual Puberty' because I know I'm growing and moving into a more mature place than I have been this past year, but everything I'm doing feels wrong and awkward and new. I don't know what to do with all the newness (moving into a Rock and Roll Band house in Norman away from the old house that was a sanctuary of solitude with a lake, separated from any trace of OU Campus' stench being the biggie).

But  s  l  o  w  l  y , I'm learning. And it feels good.

911

no, I'm not going to talk about the falling of the twin towers.

911 means change. A shift in what is going on at the moment. I can't sit and make a theology about it (I don't think that way), but for me I just have come to realize that's what it means.

Here's what I want to talk about, and it's kind of about 911 (the number, not the event) : The Religious Spirit. The one who wants to terrorize our rhythm with Jesus, especially in seasons of change.

I've recently been in constant conflict and all out fist fights with the Religious Spirit. It has been waiting for me around every corner of the past few months, ready to pounce on me and distract me from what I need to be doing. The biggest lie of the Religious Spirit is, 'You can't do that. That's not how it goes. You're not staying in the lines. These things don't add up the way they should.'

The Religious Spirit is an accuser. It is from Hell. It accuses people of doing the wrong thing when they are in fact right where they are supposed to be. The Religious Spirit sees people who are earnestly seeking the Lord's Face and wants to snatch them from His Hand. The Religious Spirit is really tricky, showing up in the conversations of close friends and relatives that you know are meaning well. But in your heart, the Lord is telling you to keep being messy, keep pissing off the Religious Spirit, keep doing the things that His Presence is taking you to, trust that you are listening to His Voice. 

If we are not moving toward a place of conscious conversation with God one on one, and at some point facing attacks that test the authenticity and accuracy of that exchange, then we are not in the right place.

Many times I hear people question : ' How do you know the Lord told you that? ' 

My answer : ' Because I believe I can know His Voice, and that you can too. I believe it takes practice, and a lot of messing up, and sure it's possible that this is a mess up, but I have faith that it is not. We can be and are called to be confident in what God is saying to us. '

My friend Aaron Jaqua (who I ran into today - such a blessing from God) just told me a story :

A guy from Bethel Church in Redding, CA who was wanting to grow in the Prophetic (the gifting of hearing from God) would go into neighborhoods, stand in front of houses, and wait. He'd wait on hearing God's voice. He'd listen for names, ailments that needed healing, etc. and when he'd feel like it, he'd walk up, ring the bell, and ask for the things he got words for. If it was wrong, he'd go, stand in front of the next house, and try again. After a while, he became more and more in tune with the Lord. I've heard that now he is incredibly accurate incredibly often. 

Here's what the Religious Spirit would say here :

' I'm skeptical of where he's getting this supernatural power (it's probably a coincidence-based thing anyway), because it seems people either have a gifting or they don't. '

Here's what the Holy Spirit says here :

' I am and always have been more interested in the process of things than the ends of things. I'm so much more interested in loving and being close to my people than seeing my people do things for me. I'm calling you to intimacy, and that intimacy brings fruit. Supernatural fruit. '

Well, for now, that's it. Let's see if there is anything religious in us and burn it. To the ground. And bury it. Forever. And fall in love with the person of Jesus, following Him and not doctrine. Are we afraid of the discomfort of being out of control? Relinquish control. It feels wrong in our hands because it was never supposed to be there.

55th post anniversary

I like the number 55. It seems to show up at very specific times, and always reminds me of the 55th chapter of Isaiah. But I'm not going to talk about that. Here's what I'm going to talk about:

* Fear

* Supernatural Healing

* Chick-Fil-A

* Vintage Road Bikes

* Forever 21

Fear : This is the theme of the past month for me and a few of my closest friends. Here's the phrase I keep hearing from the Lord : "Don't do anything out of the fear of man, fear of the Enemy, or fear of anything else. Do things out of the Love I give." We are to move, make decisions, and take ground because of the love the of Lord. If we keep doing things out of the fear of doing the wrong thing, we'll never get where we need to be going. God's love should be the thing fueling our decisions and nothing else. We can then move in confidence and peace.

Supernatural Healing : I see it happening in the community I'm surrounded by more now than I ever have. There is a definite increase in the awareness of the Presence of God around Norman Community Church and the people affected by them. People are being healed everyday it seems like. Stories that did not really exist before are now expected in large numbers each time I am at church. Prophetic words and words of knowledge are becoming more and more common and direct. God is touching people in a different way than the recent past. And that is something to be rejoicing in. (much more to be said about this stuff later).

Chick-Fil-A : My good friend Stephen Pyle stayed up all night from 5pm yesterday to 6am this morning in order to get free Chick-Fil-A for a year. He invited me, but I just couldn't bring myself to do it. I should have. I'm excited to hear about how that went.

Vintage Road Bikes : I like them. I am riding Philip's to school each day, and I'm planning on buying one. Let me know if you know of one someone is trying to get rid of.

Forever 21 : Cheap, well designed clothes. They need more menswear in the ones here, even though we're not as cool as other, larger city people.

That's it for now. Random, I know.