Prophecy Then & Now

I post this to contribute to the ongoing musings and discussions happening on our squad related to the outpouring of the indwelling Spirit.  This is not meant to be the authoritative answer by any means. These are thoughts compiled by one scholar who has devoted his life to studying the Bible and encouraging the church and scholarly community with his findings.

What follows is a list of characteristics that generally apply to most (but not all) prophets. Prophets pray (Abraham), praise (Mariam) and preach (Amos), but so do lots of other people who are not called prophets. What makes them so special?

These characteristics, compiled by John Goldingay of Fuller Theological Seminary, distinguish prophets from other leaders, and can be thought of as familial traits or resemblance shared by family members.

Disclaimer: No one prophet applies to all of these characteristics. No one characteristic applies to all people labeled as prophets. Characteristics of one prophet may not be a necessary component of prophetic ministry as a whole. Goldingay's 9 Facets of a Prophet / Prophetic Ministry1. A prophet shares God's nightmares and dreams.

They can see things that other people cannot see (i.e. Isa 1, Elisha & God's armies)

A prophet looks at the present in light of the past and in light of the future as well as the future in light of the present. Decimation is not the last word.

Prophets in the OT were invited into God's "cabinet," His heavenly court, to be a part of the decision making process of the gods. (Gen 1 & Job 1 are two examples of this "heavenly cabinet". 1 Kings 22 is a prime example of a prophet being a part of the process. Abraham's pleading for Sodom & Gomorrah in Gen 18 is another.

A prophet brings bad news (nightmares) more than good news (dreams), about 2/3 bad and 1/3 good.

2. A prophet speaks like a poet and behaves like an actor.

The books are most written in poetic style, in verse, and contain a lot of indirect communication. They are full of hyperbole and imagery, simile and metaphor (1 Kings 13 & 22).

Receiving a word from a prophet does not make life less complicated (or easier). Its like hearing a parable from Jesus. We should expect Christian prophets to speak in pictures.

Prophets speak in rhyme. Prophets can dance. They got rhythm.

God may leave us initially puzzled. God speaks in pictures & images for 2 reasons: 1- that deep truths about God can't be put in straightforward language that speaks only to the rational mind (they are not simply easily understood and comprehended) they require images that have the capacity to reach the whole person (deep truths about god speak to the whole person, not just the rational mind) and

2- that we don't want to receive God's truth. But, pictures and images can get past our defenses and break through our resistance.

Prophecy speaks to our will, our imagination and our insight.

3. A prophet is somebody who confronts the confident with rebuke and the downcast with hope.

They minister directly with the people of their day, they speak to their own people and the struggles they are dealing with. They don't speak much about "the Messiah."

The first two thirds of Ezekiel is mostly rebuke, but the final third of Ezekiel is about restoration. First Isaiah (1-39) is mostly rebuke. Second Isaiah (40-55) is mostly hope. A true prophet knows what time it is, an speaks accordingly.

4. A prophet is someone who speaks mostly to the people of God.

They are not social reformers though they do have a vision of what things should like. They remind the people of their commitment to God. They do speak to the world/nations, but primarily to the people of God. Prophets today will call the church to be people of God instead of an imitation of the world.

5. A prophet is someone who is not a part of the establish societal/ruling/political structure.

They are independent of institutional pressures of church and state, not on the payroll of gods people. they speak using objectionable language an that says something about who they are speaking to as well as the prophets themselves.

6. A prophet is a scary person who mediates the things of a scary God.

Prophetic ministry today should reduce the domestication of God that characterizes us as evangelicals and charismatics.

7. A prophet intercedes with boldness and praises with freedom.

They are mediators who mediate in BOTH directions as members of God's cabinet, they take part in cabinet discussions on behalf of the people of God advocating for them (prayer). They also proclaim the cabinet's decisions to the people (preaching). Amos 7&8. Both activities, the preaching and the prayer, have the same aim, which is for God's positive purposes to be fulfilled and God's negative purposes to be abandoned. (Abraham in Gen 20). Prophets pray & preach, as well as praise!

8. A prophet is someone who speaks and ministers in a way that reflect the personalities of the individual and their time.

God speaks by their "hand." Some humanness comes out in the delivery of Hod's message. God uses them as who they are to bring the message they can bring. Jeremiah speaks differently than Isaiah who speaks differently than Ezekiel, etc.

It does not bypass the person or their personality.

9. A prophet is certain to fail, in some way or another.

God sent prophets to call His people out from their apostasy and back into right relationship with Him. Almost none of them succeed. Ironically Jonah was the most successful prophet. However, God is ever hopeful, and no "failure" discourages Him.

Prophets are not infallible - they make mistakes (i.e. Elijah, Hannaniah, Jeremiah in ch 15, they may not achieve the purpose for which God sent them.

So, what's the point? God stays ever faithful and ever hopeful. Prophets are a means of God's grace. A prophet should prophesy because God called him/her. He or she must be obedient and faithful, because God is. Closing Thoughts

I would encourage you to listen to the first 45 min of this lecture where Goldingay explains these 9 facets/familial traits. If you are interested, you might as well listen to the entire course. If you want to read more on the topic of the Holy Spirit and prophecy check out Walter Brueggeman's The Prophetic Imagination, Gordon Fee's God's Empowering Presence. Probably the best commentary on 1 Corinthians is by Gordon Fee, the chief NT editor for the NIV.

After understanding how prophets ministered in the OT, we can begin to draw conclusions about what the gift of prophecy and prophetic ministry should look like today. Stay tuned for a post later this month on some of my thoughts on that matter.

(The pictures were taken and edited by Loren when Jack & Jake team preached in Uganda.)

A Woman's Worth

Lately, life has shifted gears and moved into fast-forward. We arrived in Thailand about a week ago, and I've already started bar-hopping ... my ministry this month.

I'm serving on a fantastic team of all women this month, while Jack gets some bonding time with the men on our squad - he's doing manual labor and mentoring kids at an orphanage that rescues vulnerable children from the cycle of human trafficking.

We are about an hour away from each other, will only see each other a few days this month, and expect our time apart to challenge and stretch us as we focus on separate ministries and allow our lives to look different for the month.

My ministry this month is very unique, and very new to me. It's also something I'd like to invite you to join in a special way. My passion for this ministry is best expressed by Carly Crookston; an amazing woman, a gifted writer, and one of my new team members. She wrote the peice below that describes what we're doing this month. I'm thrilled to serve alongside her as we reach out to broken women this month ...

broken women in the red-light district...

---

How much?

How much is she worth?

How much money would you be willing to pay to hang out with your waitress for the night?  Five dollars?  Ten dollars?  More?  Less?

What if she was your best friend?  What if she was your little sister?  What if she was your daughter?  What if she was your wife?

How much then?

Take a walk with me.  We're in Chiang Mai, Thailand.  It's nearly midnight, but you wouldn't know it by the looks of it -- the lights flicker and glow enticingly, the music blares, the streets pulse with all of the people on them.  We walk into a bar, slide into a booth and a young woman comes to take our order.  To call her a young woman might be a little bit generous -- she can't be much older than eighteen.  She's pretty, the way that all of the women here are pretty with their fine bone structure and round cheeks and sweet smiles.  Can you see her?  Who does she look like?

To me, she looks like my best friend Andrea. She looks like my sisters-in-law, Kimberly and Abigail. Could this have been one of them?  What if they hadn't been priviledged enough to be born in America, into homes that sheltered them from the harsh reality of forced prostitution?

If you read this blog, chances are that you know me.  You've probably talked with me or spent time with me at some point… After reading these posts for the past seven months, you surely know what I've been experiencing and learning lately.  So what if it was me?  What if I was the girl “waiting tables” at these bars and I was tired?  What if I was tired of my life, but I had no other options?  Would you help me? 

If you read this blog, chances are that I know you.  And after being blessed by your generosity and support thus far, I know that you would help me.  To many of you, I am your friend, your sister, your daughter -- or at least, I could be.  You wouldn't pass by me when I was desperate.  I know that you wouldn't.

So let's not pass by these women when they are desperate.  Let's not pass by the young girls stuck in these bars.  Let's not walk past them, most of whom are not here by their own design.  Close your eyes and see your little girl, your best friend, your only sister, exploited and alone.  What are you going to do about it?

My team and I are partnering with Lighthouse in Action ministries this month.  We're walking those streets, sitting in those bars, talking with those girls and our goal is to be Jesus.  We're not walking in with Bibles, preaching a message of condemnation or anger.  We're walking in to be girlfriends.  We're trying to get to know these girls, to build relationships.  The program director made it very clear: we're not a SWAT team running in to grab the women.  We're farmers -- we're planting seeds, watering them, and maybe even harvesting a couple if the season is right.

How do we do that specifically?  Our ministry this month centers around two of my favorite things -- praying and dating.  Every day and every night, some part of our team will be in the prayer room, interceding for this country and the women that we meet.  Then we spend two days and two nights a week in bars, getting to know the girls and inviting them out on dates.  We want to take them to lunch, to the movies, to get our nails done -- the regular things girlfriends do with one another.  Ministry this month is deeply relational.  Success is not counted in how many women we personally pull out of the bar scene; it's about the depth and quality of friendships made.

But I need your help.  My team needs your help.  We have to pay to buy ourselves [non-alcoholic] drinks in every bar we go -- even the ones we go in just to pray.  We have to pay to buy the women drinks and the price doubles.  I'm hoping to get to the point where I can offer to pay a girl's bar fee, pay to take her out of there for the night.  Then on any of the dates we have, we're paying for the women.  But all of this requires cash, something that runs pretty short after seven months around the world.  My team and I are trying to raise some money so that we can treat these women.  We want to make some real, quality friendships -- friendships where we aren't trying to get anything out of them, but just showing them the love of Jesus through our lives.

If you would be willing to partner with us on this, you can email me for more information on how to give. Any money that we have left over after the end of the month will be given to this ministry; a prominent bar is closing at the end of April and the director has a vision for a rehabilitation program, where the women can come to learn about Jesus, but also to learn practical job skills.  The four-month program costs about $1,000 dollars per woman, so any money that we do not use “dating” the girls will go directly towards that project.

So there we are, sitting in the booth.  The pretty girl's name is Nam and she's ready to take our order.  What will you have?  Coca-cola?  A cocktail?  Maybe the girl herself?

How much?

He has shown you, O man, what is good.  And what does the Lord require of you?  To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God.  Micah 6:8

Labor Pains

We have just stepped off the plane into Thailand. From the dusty slums of Africa to the bustling streets of Bangkok, we find ourselves in a completely different world. Asia beckons, a stranger. A land more foreign than anything I’ve yet faced this year. I am intimidated.

I've been travelling overseas since high school, and rarely felt inept or out of place. Nicaragua has been home for me since 2006 - even from my first visit, Latin culture was reminiscent of Texas and Mexico, so finding myself comfortble there was no surprise.

Eastern Europe presented new cultures ... but our langugages share Latin roots, the people are white, and similarities still linger from shared Anglo-Saxon ancestors.

And Africa - it welcomed me with open arms in 2005. My heart was broken, but it also opened wide like a hibiscus in the African sun of wide African smiles, African arms, African love. It, too, has been home ever since.

But Asia ? It looms - a giant question mark in my mind. I have absolutely no idea what to expect. I suppose this is fertile soil for God to sow seeds.

A part of me thinks I am too old to fall in love again - with a people group, a new area of the globe … but then, life is funny.

Just when you think life is full, marriage opens an entirely new chapter of love and sacrifice, tears and toil and laughter - pulsing vitality beyond the joy I thought possible.

As my friends one by one cross the threshold to motherhood, I watch their hearts expand again - and again - always more room in the heart for a new baby. Someday, I’ll know that joy.

But today, I groan with labor pains of another kind. He is birthing in me a fierce, proud, protective love his nations and people.

There is Nicaragua: first-born of my missionary passions, the one that is most familiar to me. Don’t get me started talking about how beautiful Nica is, because I’m likely to whip out pictures and never stop chatting about her festive spirit, her lovely Latin character, and how she’s an unexpected class favorite.

And Africa: second-born, meeting this one broke my heart. I bent low on a dirt floor in Zambia as my heart was shattered by her passion and her great need. Fiercely prideful, driven by a rhythm all her own, and alive to the work of a risen savior, she captured my heart - when I am away from her too long, I am anxious and my heart aches to see her once again.

And so I'm left, pecies of my heart strewn across continents. I'm left to wait, waiting to meet this unknown, third reflection of God on earth. The time is coming soon. What will Asia look like?

Will I have what it takes to go through this process again - to gaze in awe upon another manifestation of my God in the flesh - and give of myself?

Do I have anything to offer?

And - the most painful question of all - is there enough room in my heart … for all three - for Nicaragua, for Africa, and for Asia?

I think about my momma friends with multiple children - and I’m amazed at how the Lord grows our hearts. Even as a woman’s womb stretches to make room, so does her heart. A father’s hands reach out for his newborn child, and the Lord plants love in his very core.

Oh Jesus, would you stretch my heart as I hold out my hands ... for whatever you decide to place in them?

{For our loved family and friends who are delivering babies while we are away - we are thinking of you. It's hard to miss the really special moments. When we get home, we can't wait to meet and hold baby Camp, Josiah, Noah, Hattie, Elijah, and baby Legare. We know they'll be just as amazing as their parents. We love you!}

A Day in the Life: Rwanda

8:00 am:            Arise (rather groggy and grumpy - I am not friends with evil Morning.) 8:00 - 9:00:       Snack on some Psalms in my little tent - so tasty!

9:00 - 9:45:       Walk the long, dusty road to pastor’s house for breakfast

9:45 - 10:00:     Eat breakfast (same as every day) … hard-boiled egg, a miniature banana, black ginger tea with goat’s milk, and chapati (like a fluffy tortilla).

We were told that right after breakfast, we would leave for a “short” marriage party. It would be a “slight distance” away, and we were not sure how we would get there.

10:00 - 12:00:    Wait at the pastor’s house in confusion … where we discover it is a graduation party, not a marriage party. And that the pastor had already left. And that he is not sure how we will get there. Make small talk with the pastor’s wife (who speaks limited English) -  try to maintain eye contact as she breastfeeds her toddler, completely topless and very nonchalant about it.

Play “20 questions” with our team to kill time.

Sweat trickles down my back - the heat of the day arrives early here.

12:30 - 1:00:       We walk across town to our translators’ moms’ shop, where we will meet our translator, who will get us bus tickets to the graduation party.

1:00 pm:              Arrive at the shop, where mama wants to know where her daughter (our translator) is. We have no idea. Hands on wide hips, she is not happy.

1:00 - 1:40:          Sit on the steps and watch the cars go by. I daydream about macaroni and cheese. A precious and malnourished child wanders by, so my attention is averted to praying for her.

1:40 pm:               Our translator arrives, and after a short argument with her mom, we head to the bus station.

2:15 pm:               When we arrive at the bus station, we discover that the next bus does not leave until 3 pm. (We were told the party ended around 3). So we walk back to to the shop.

2:30 - 3:30:           Wait for a while longer, while many confusing phone calls fly around. A car arrives to pick us up, then speeds away as our translator explains that “it has two flat tires.”

4:00 pm:                We are picked up by a van. Thrilled and relieved, we stretch out on the seats and head off, bumping along back roads.

4:20 pm:                 In confusion, we are driven back to …. the pastor’s house!

Here, we are greeted by the pastor’s family, dressed to a hilt, AND the entire Voice of Trumpet Victory Choir from the pastor’s church, in their singing attire: shiny brown satin two-tone shirts and crisp pants, and long shoes that turn up at the toes.  All 16 of them pile into our van (how I wish Africans used deodorant!), along with their full arsenal of sound equipment … 2 huge box stereos, a sound board, several cables, etc. Some seats have 3 layers of people stacked high on each others’ laps.

In my little corner of the van, I thank Jesus (literally) that I am by a window, where fresh air can blow through, and that my compact size shows its advantage in this situation. My poor 6 ft+ team leader looks so uncomfortable.

4:25 pm:        After driving exactly 10 meters, the van is stopped. In a flurry of loud voices, the entire choir piles out of the van, shuffles around, and then piles back in. This happens twice more in the next half hour. But … we are finally on our way! Note that we are only 6 hours late.

During the van ride, Voice of Trumpet Victory Choir practices their repertoire, although they don't all sing the same song at the same time. It is loud enough that I hear it all through my headphones.

5:25 pm:       Arrive at the graduation party to many stares.

We visit the “bathroom” - a three-sided shack with a hole dug in the ground. The exciting part is that there is a hornet’s nest … in the hole where you are supposed to do your business.

I’m not sure how you’re supposed to do your business without angering the hornets. This is all made more exciting, since in Romania I discovered a serious allergy to flying, stinging insects. In Africa, even a trip to the bathroom is never routine. Somehow, we miraculously survive unscathed.

At the graduation party, we eat two very large dinners … one complete with animal intestines and soured milk sauce. We choke down what we can and try not to let the constant stares bother us.

We’re given a 2-minute warning that someone from our group will give a graduation speech. This should not be surprising, since at the last graduation we attended (in Tanzania), we were given a 1-minute warning that we would be performing a dance in front of hundreds. Yes, we did it, and no, it was not my proudest moment. At this graduation ceremony, however, my teammate Jake saves the day by giving a speech that is well-received. After that the stares are more kindly.

I am fascinated by a speech given by the family patriarch and his allusions to genocide. Their family was Tutsi, in the targeted group during the Rwandan genocide of 1994. His family fled to Uganda and most of them have known life as refugees. In a quiet, dignified voice, he glorifies God that he has allowed them to return to the homeland of their fathers, that he saved them while many others were slaughtered, and that now as his family - and his country - rebuilds, the graduation of his grandson marks progress for his family and hope for all.

Rwandans are a reserved, proud people that do not quickly open their emotions to outsiders - and they rarely talk of the horror in their recent past. To see a rare glimpse of their true feelings was a gift, and I felt honored to be included in such an intimate family gathering.

Little did I know the day was not even close to over yet …

6:45 pm:        Though the “party” portion of the ceremony is only beginning, we all (Voice of Trumpet Victory Choir included) pile back into the van - we are already late for evening church service. We bounce along the rutted, muddy, rocky, mountainous road to the city.

    Along the way, fields of wheat and corn unfold before me like a patchwork quilt - beautiful.     A storm rolls in, shades of steel in thunderous clouds above, brazen sunlight shining through breaks of gray. Clean, rain-soaked breezes wash through the open window and refresh the sweaty stale air inside the van. A great playlist rings in my ears, and I worship. My heart bobs above me, like a balloon on a string. It doesn’t feel like much holds me to the ground. Just when I think I can’t be more caught up in the rapture of the beauty around me, a lightening storm begins.

“The heavens declare the glory of God, and the sky above proclaims his handiwork.” Psalm 19:1

Despite Genocide, God has smiled upon this land. The story of Rwanda is still unfolding, and I can’t help but sense that he is not done in East Africa yet - a feeling that was confirmed when …

7:30 pm:        We arrive at church, late for service, where everyone is singing a cappella and caught up in worship- undeterred that we have the choir and the sound system with us.

7:30 - 8:45:    Church and preaching/worship with our team.

8:45 pm:        We choke down our third dinner.

9:15 pm:         In the middle of a torrential downpour, all seven of us pile into a small four-door ancient car that in every moment feels like its last. We somehow make it home.

10:00 pm:       Collapse into bed and think, “Is this real life?”

Voices in the Dark

Flickering candles pierce the dark African night.Crickets join husky voices lifted in Kinyarwandan song.

Call and response, rhythm of hands, shuffle of the dance.

The cadence breaking into complex syncopation. Hands feet limbs, lips cast shadows on the red dirt floor.

Pews of plastic chairs abandoned in favor of a wild praise dance.

Power outages do not stop worship here ...  I have a hunch Africans might be God's favorite.

Perspective...

Life in Mwanza, Tanzania, goes at a slower pace than what we have been accustomed thus far. We have lots of time to think, to read, to rest, and to just be. This has lead to much contemplation about life, both here and back home.

Little things we miss the most:
-Cold-brewed iced coffee from Catalina Coffee and Revival Market
-Mai's Vietnamese pho tai
-Fast internet
-Dublin Dr. Pepper
-Pho Yen egg rolls
-College football
-A comfy bed in a cozy room
-Nordstrom's bread pudding

Big things we enjoy the most:
-Only 2 hours of scheduled activities a day
-Hanging out around the beautiful Lake Victoria on our rest days
-Preaching all the time (download latest sermon audio here and notes here, pictures below)
-Living in community with people being wrecked by the gospel and its implications
-Leading a talented team of people who are more gifted and more passionate than I am
-Serving pastors who have more faith and bigger dreams than we do
-Being God's conduit of blessing and His instrument of healing: spiritual, social, emotional, and physical healing.
-Watching God advance His Kingdom, right before our eyes.

There are things we miss, and it is difficult being thousands of miles away from our family and friends. But it is so worth it. We know we are right where we are supposed to be. The days pass quickly, and we are in month five of our 11-month journey. We are coming up soon on the deadline to be fully funded. We still have about $4000 to go. It would mean so much to us if you would join us in prayer for this. We are asking God to be fully funded by February 1st. If you would like to give, you can do so by clicking the "Support Us" link on the right. We are grateful for your partnership.

Hopeful: 2012

Happy New Year!

Currently in Andhra Pradesh, India, it is 12:50 am on January 1, 2012. God is so faithful.

This New Years' Eve, I feel hopeful.

I'm grateful for all that 2011 brought - building my marriage, working for (the amazing) Living Water, leaving in September for the World Race - a year filled with challenges and joys. I can honestly say I did a lot of living in 2011; not just existing, but being fully alive. For this, I am grateful. For the Jesus who gives life, and gives it abundantly.

Our New Year rang in a unique way. Both Jack and I have some kind of flu thing, so we had a quiet night in. At midnight, I kissed my sweetheart - and took a moment to thank God for all that he is.

Then I stepped onto our 5th-story balcony and looked out over Ongole. Steady rain covered everything in a sheet, but that did not slow down revelers across the city.

Downstairs, I heard the church carrying on their passionate worship service - they repeated "Hallelujah! Hallelujah!" over and over as midnight neared.

Across the street, I watched a group of sopping wet, euphoric teenagers whoop and push each other around jovially as they counted down, exploding into hugs and yells as my watch beeped the hour.

Fireworks burst across the sky, booming and filling the grey-maroon sky with vivid color.

The sound of a high-pitched Hindi song filled the air.

I closed my eyes and felt the cleansing rain ... dripping on my head, my nose, my chin, my wrists. Warm and soothing.

I felt my heart float up in a silent worship song to God.

I did not need champagne or yells or a countdown to ring in the New Year - I just needed worship. A reminder of God's love. And I found it, as my heart swelled with hope.

Because there is more for this city. Greater things are yet to come ...

Because this day, this year, we are one day and one year closer to the return of Jesus - our beloved King who will make all things right.

And until then, I get to use this body and this breath to tell people of my coming King. So they too will know this hope that fills my heart.

In 2012, I have no goal but to enjoy God more - because oh, he is so worthy of my affections.

Dear reader, I am thinking of you. Wherever you find yourself on the Eve of this New Year, know that you are so intensely loved by the God of this universe. No amount of striving is necessary to win his favor - you are already his favorite.

So seize this life he offers you, this abundant and overflowing and hopeful life ... because you only get one chance to live. And you're not really living until you feel the constant, steady rain of his love falling down on your head, your heart ... cleansing, soothing, healing.

This love is there for you ... you just have to step out into the rain, close your eyes, and feel it drip down.

Read more of our posts ...

Hi friends! If you're looking for more blog posts, we encourage you to head over to our old blog site here. There you can find more entries from 2011. All new posts will appear on this website - but we know sometimes it's fun to dig in the past! Enjoy!