I have been overcome by extraordinary experiences so much so, that every time that I sit down to write about it, I'm just undone. See, a good writer can have an average day and, later on, meditate on the details of the ordinary and communicate the treasures that were hidden in the moment. It's the difference between writing that I was walking down the street (ho hum) or lingering on the feeling of the ground beneath my feet, the cool breeze on my cheek, and the heat of the sun on my neck in the same turn. What confounds me as a writer is the blatantly obvious that is, by itself, so spectacular that writing about it does it no justice, in fact, it makes it seem ordinary by comparison. This is why journalism is so hard. Nobody is objective because the details of what can be communicated about any moment are innumerable. Part of this is my explanation of why I haven't written lately. "You mean you have too much to write so you haven't?" Yeah, pretty much. It's a lousy excuse, I know, and since I can't possibly make you understand, I'll instead, tell you an extraordinary story and see if I can do it the justice it's due.

A young man named Ethan came to a conference this weekend and signed up to go on an outreach team on Saturday afternoon. Around 200 students were sent out in teams of 8 to do prophetic evangelism or what we call treasure hunting. The treasure is the gold hidden in the lives of people. I'll leave you to figure that out on your own. Ethan was praying at the end of the outreach class and two things came to him distinctly, that is, he became aware that he was most focused upon the following two things. The color blue, and the pain he felt in his left arm. They first went to Best Buy and saw a man with his left arm in a cast and blue sling. Emboldened, they approached him and politely asked if they could pray for his arm. He replied in the affirmative and after they prayed he said his arm felt warm and the pain was gone. Much more happened but I'll stick to this thread of the story, that is, the color blue and the pain in the left arm. The team went into a Chick Fil A and saw another guy with a broken arm in a blue cast that was removable. Ethan approached the man, telling him about the story of the prayer, the color blue, and the pain in his left arm. The man was excited and allowed Ethan to pray for him and afterward, took the cast off and moved his arm without pain in such a way that moments before he hadn't been able to do. His broken arm was healed. A girl with fibromialgia was also prayed for in the Chick Fil A and as the power of God came upon here she fell out of her chair and the team had to help to settle her back in her seat. The pain left and she was healed. Call me on pointing out the obvious but Ethan had an amazing day of witnessing the miracle working power of God flowing through his hands.

Ethan hasn't always had good days though. A year earlier, Ethan's Dad and Mom, Jerry and Julie, had just been in Houston where Jerry had just received his ordination into full time ministry. A former Air Force test pilot, Jerry was an adventurer to the core and had answered the call to do mission work in South America. He had just called me in Maui to share his vision for reaching people in his upcoming ministry and had never sounded more certain about his future. On the way home from receiving his credentials, Jerry and Julie were both killed in a car accident. If anyone has reason to be offended at God, Ethan does. If anyone has reason to drown themselves in confusion brought on by intense grief, Ethan does. If anyone has justifiable cause to create a case against faith, Ethan does. Yet he hasn't.

The Kingdom of God is built upon the foundation of the persistence of people who refuse to be derailed by disappointment. Being willing to step beyond the hurdle of offense and die to the ability to be stalled by things they don't understand is the mark of a true revivalist. Ethan's father left an inheritance for his sons by laying hold of a mantle that was larger than his own life, and now his son is walking in such a way as to increase that which he has been entrusted with. Ethan has volunteered as an intern at the Austin House of Prayer now, and is spending his free time cultivating an intimacy with the voice of God that his father and mother valued so much. Tonight, I sit and think about the miracles, and realize that Ethan and the 200 other revivalists who went out this weekend, are all contending for breakthrough that is bigger than one life can carry alone. It has brought me back to Romans 1:16, "...I am not ashamed of the Gospel of Christ, for it is the power of God unto salvation to everyone who believes..." Don't allow disappointment to deny you of your destiny to disciple nations. The Gospel is not the theory of God, not the philosophy of God, it's the power of God, and those who position themselves to encounter the Presence and embrace the Gospel will experience the Power.
(photos by Andrew Cole and Ashleigh Montoya)

Since God inhabits the praises of His people, there's a certain risk taken in praise and worship for to worship is to acknowledge and engage with the manifest presence of God and in that place, offer Him a tangible expression of love and honor. His response to your offering is the favor of His manifest presence which he promised He would give. If God shows up and you don't die, you've got His favor. Worship has been thick with the favor of God as the culture of revival builds. This pic was taken from my phone in a worship service a couple of weeks ago. I don't know why I try to capture movement with a camera phone but the movement is there, hence the blur. It's been a good while since I've written on the blog and it's because I have too much to write. I have been writing though. Just not for public consumption. I've got something here I would love to post though and it's from a student in the Austin Kingdom Academy who also attends Austin Presbyterian Seminary. He was filled with the Holy Spirit and true to the form of a logical, analytical, and detail oriented personality, he chronicles the experience with journalistic excellence. It's a fascinating read and if you've ever wondered about the nuts and bolts of the term 'baptism in the Holy Spirit' this is well worth your time. Grace and Peace.

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This journal is to record God’s work and deeds in my life. Today is September 7, 2008, eleven and a-half years since Jesus Christ has come into my life. His works this point in my life are too numerous to count, from uncontrolled laughter by the Holy Spirit to prophetic words both given and received.

My desire in compiling these experiencies is that the triune God, awful and beautiful, would be glorified, remembered and praised.

-Jason Paul De Graaf.

7 September 2008: Austin, Texas, Hope Chapel, during the Austin Kingdom Academy. Bill Johnson's first video lesson. He spoke of many wondrous signs including diverse healings, prophetic words, seeing angels, the appearance of dove feathers, seeing golden oil upon people's hands, and many other manifestations.
My hands began tingling after Bill Johnson told us to hold them out. He prayed over us. At first, I did not feel anything. Next to me, however, Will Bibee stated hands were burning and continued to burn for the next hour-and-a-half. I placed my hands upon his for no longer than minute with a desire to receive what he was experiencing. My hands were tingling sharply for the next half-hour in different position and motions. The feeling would not leave me.
Prophetic words were spoken to me by a woman named Kay, describing my faith as simple and believing. An accurate word, to say the least.
Prophetic words were spoken to me by a woman named Misty. She received a vision of a cathedral, yet prophesied extensively that I would be taking the Gospel to the streets, going to those outside of the church. It was my first time meeting her; she did not know that this semester is my first time preaching in a chapel, and that I have been doing para-church ministry for the last eleven years of my life, all of which (save for one short Bible study at UUMC in St. Louis) has been outside of the church.
Misty found a small feather, gray and white, in her Bible. Our class time was all inside, and she did not recall ever seeing it before.
Many people were speaking in tongues.
Last night four people prayed over me for the baptism of the Holy Spirit: Kay, Misty, Brad and Will. Nothing came at the time. Note that the previous Friday Mark Proeger and I also prayed for the baptism of the Holy Spirit from the one who baptizes with “the Holy Spirit and fire.”

8 September 2008, Austin, Texas, Austin Presbyterian Theological Seminary campus, the next day following our first Austin Kingdom Academy class.
I ran into Andy, an older Chinese immigrant pastor who cannot hear out of his left ear. He is a student here at APTS. He has recently begun surgery to restore his hearing, although it is not complete yet. My hands immediately began to burn with the same cool tingles as last night once I heard of his partial deafness. I prayed for healing and restoration of his hearing, although nothing immediately happened.
My hands continued burning (and are burning slightly as I type this) as I went outside to look and pray for others while whatever holy fire was upon me. I came across Shane Webb and Brandon Miles, two students here at APTS and prayed for them with a curious earnest.
I have received the baptism of the Holy Spirit! Praise God! After returning from Anderson High School, my hands began to burn cooly once again. At first, I thought I needed to go and pray for someone, so I went outside and made my way to the seminary library. My hands continued to burn but saw no one. After some time in the library I placed my hands to my mouth, my lips, my face and my tongue. Whatever burning was on my hands moved there as well. I immediately made my way back to my room and began to pray, asking God to loose my tongue…
What followed was the purest form of worship I have ever experienced. For forty-five minutes warm, deep sounds came out of my mouth as my body rocked back and forth in my chair, not unlike Orthodox Jews at the Wailing Wall. An energy was on my tongue and my mouth that I had never experienced before. Sounds came out at their own accord, moving from syllable to syllable over and over again. Although I do not know what I specifically said, I knew the genre of what I was praying. The first and longest time was spent in praising God. Again, I did not know what I was saying, yet I was keenly aware that praise was being offered to God. Next was a time of intercession for my brother and my sister, who do not yet know Jesus. Sounds were low and similar to one crying or weeping and I remained folded over as I spoke. After that was a time of supplication. I was asking God for good gifts, although I do not know for what I specifically asked. Next came a time of thanksgiving, which lasted a long time as well. My time closed by saying the names of God and offering names of high school students at Anderson who do not know Jesus. The entire time I felt wonderfully out of control of my mouth, tongue, lips and face. It was like spiritual water flowing forth of its own accord, a pure energy spilling through me, a "spring of eternal life."
I continued speaking in tongues softly throughout the rest of the day, while walking around my room. It seemed as if I was simply praising and glorifying God, as it should be an everyday, normal occurance.
Later, I ran into an older man named Mike with whom I’ve practiced for years. He spoke to me of two injuries that he has, his shoulder and his knee. Immediately my hands warmed and I asked if I could pray for him. He declined and assured me it would heal in time. The moment he declined my hands cooled.
After speaking with Statton about my day he encouraged me to pray and praise God for the gift I had been given. I sat down and began praying once again in tongues. The session was shorter than the first, but followed a similar pattern: I did not know specifically what I was speaking but knew generally what was being said. The first portion of my prayer was once again praise of God. The next was a time of thanksgiving for this glorious gift. The third section was a time of confession, specifically my pride and my lust. The forth section was a time of supplication, as I asked for my pride and lust to be done away with. The session ended with speaking names of God, specifically as creator, over and over again with creator-names for God.
What a day! Praise Jesus!

I was searching through some old journals yesterday and came across this "prayer" from January of 2001. I'm going to publish it here as it was written and then make one brief comment at the end.

"My God. If You're desire is to commune with me, what's stopping You? Certainly I don't have the power to hold you back, do I? And if I do, would You kindly (or unkindly) overpower me? I forever seek a deeper walk with You and always desire Your Presence. The waiting for You to speak, the wondering how I can attain to the Enoch walk, the Elijah mantle, the Samuel midnight visit, the Isaiah vision, or the Moses glow is enough to drive a mortal mad. I can sit for what seems like forever praying until I have nothing left to say but Your Name. Drag me to where You want me. Scream in my ear and should I be left deaf from the experience, my soul would be forever sustained knowing that You have allowed me to hear Your voice. If in Your touch, you strike me, whatever mark is left will tell my heart that You took a moment to touch me. I must know You more!"

In contrasting the cry of the past and the reality of the present, I'm sobered by this fact. The relationship with God you enjoy today is the one you were desperate for yesterday.

I've been busier than normal and without much time to devote to writing. Don't mistake that for nothing happening. On the contrary, so much is happening that it's difficult to condense into a few blogs, so I've decided to share what God has been doing in my family. Specifically, in my son. He came back from camp a full on revivalist and has been going to the mall with friends doing good and healing the oppressed, giving prophetic words of destiny over people and generally destroying the works of darkness. Not a bad way to live. So here it is, raw, wild, and powerful.
From my son's online journal:

I have been seeing tons of people getting healed and miracles happening every day, so I decided that I am going to write a note about all the awesome things that are going on! :)
Well, if I started from the beginning, this note would never end. So I'm starting with camp.

MY EYES:
You might already know that my eyes got my eyes healed at camp.
We were having one of the greatest worship services I have experienced EVER led by John Vasquez.
I was up front, I had my eyes closed and I felt someone hit me in the chest really hard!
Briggs was standing next to me, and I thought that he had hit me.
But when I opened my eyes he had his eyes closed with his hands raised in the air.
It was weird.
It was the first time I had been punched in the chest by somebody I couldnt even SEE!
Then I felt somebody put their hand on by back really hard, and then hit me in the chest again.
And when I turned around there was nobody there.
Well it was really cool.
After worship I went and sat down in my chair and my hands were shaking and I couldnt stop smiling and laughing.
I had been wearing glasses for about 5 or 6 years and wanted them off. My eyesight was really bad though.
I want even thinking about it and Matt (Melody Benders brother) put his hands on my eyes and at first nothing happened...But the second time he prayed for me my eyes were completely HEALED!
It was definatly one of the most amazing things that has ever happened to me.
Ever since then my hands have been on fire, I have been seeing tons of people get healed, and now im going to start writing about it.

MATTS FOOT:
He had hurt one of his toes and it was effecting his whole foot.
I got to pray for him and he said that it was completely better.

SHANES FOOT:
I got to pray for Shanes left foot on Friday night. He said that he had hurt it a few years ago and it was still giving him pain sometimes.
He asked me to pray for it.........HEALED!

MONDAY AUGUST 25TH:
Today was the launch of the Austin Kingdom Academy.
http://www.beenup2.com/photos/286954-kingdom-academy-begins

GUYS ARM HEALED:
Me and two other people prayed for a guys arm today at AKA.
My hands were tingling like CRAZY!!!!!!!!!!!
While I was praying he said "Its healed, It's completely healed!" And he started stretching and swinging his arms around.
I was standing behind him, and he turned around and smiled really big.
That was cool!

LADYS BACK HEALED:
She had just had back surgery and was still having pain and she bent completely over and touched her toes without any pain.

I'm not starting this with anything in particular to write. It's just that I haven't written in awhile so I'm going to stir the pot and see if anything of substance rises to the surface. Saying something has never been a problem. It's saying something worth saying that's the issue. I've been in a season of listening and hearing, seeing and perceiving, this morning in particular spent digesting Psalm 27. The writer makes a stunning declaration when he says, "one thing have I desired of the Lord and that will I seek after..." That's the part that's stunning to me. More than what He seeks, it's that he reduced his entire life down to one thing. It's that refined focus that says that I'm alive for a single purpose. The one thing is to live in the manifest presence of His glory and from that place make Him known. It amounts not just for us but for the impact of His glory to shape the world around us. "...that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to behold the beauty of the Lord and to inquire in His temple..." What just rocks me about this is that the fulfillment of that one thing leads to another quest. To be in that place of beholding is what qualifies you to inquire. It's what grants you access to the place of greater breakthrough in wisdom and revelation. Have you reduced your life to one desire? Is there one cry in you that encompasses it all?

I like Mary. You know, the woman who came to a dinner party and dumped a insanely expensive pound of perfume on Jesus feet and then bends low to wipe his feet with her hair. Jesus had rescued her from a church stoning social so that would explain the radical gratitude. You know the thing I find most interesting about this story? Jesus never asked her to do this, and yet, (pause, think) He praises her act of love and even solidifies it as a moment that will shape history.

There is a base level of being a Christian where we learn to live as decent people in an indecent world becoming neither an asset to light nor a threat to darkness. Then there's a level we could call servanthood where the movements of the Spirit nudge us in one direction over another and we have opportunity for compliance. But is there a step beyond obedience? Mary here, offers Jesus an original expression of love, and it got me thinking. How many times have I done something for God only to hear people ask the question, "Are you sure God told you to do that?" As if the end of the Christian life is confined to merely awaiting orders. Thankfully, He invites us from servanthood into friendship. In that place, I can both walk in obedience and exercise the freedom to have an original expression of love. "I'm going to go down and pray while walking the campus." you say. "Did God tell you to do that?" says another. With a smile, you reply, "No, actually He didn't. It's something I thought up on my own." Sound strange? It shouldn't. How about this scene? "Hey, what are you doing?" "Oh, just buying flowers for my wife." "Did she ask you to do that?" "Uh, no. I just did it because I was thinking about her." "What? Are you crazy? I don't buy my wife flowers unless she asks me to. What a crazy way to be married. I mean it's downright foolish to go off thinking of things on your own. Just wait until she directs you and tells you what to do." By this point I would begin to wonder if this guy actually loved his wife or if this marriage was just an arrangement of convenience. There are some things you just don't do without direction, but then there are expressions of love which are strengthened by the fact that they come from you who are using the very arms God created to reach out in a willful expression of worship. Your body is the ultimate example of His design subjected to your desire. His creation at your command.

You are the bride of Christ, in a covenant that's solidified in the reality that we love Him because He first loved us. No matter which way you look at it, the core is love, and love without expression is dead. Basic obedience is beneath the standard of love. A private is not required to love his commanding officer. Just obey. Jesus calls us beyond obedience into radical expressions of love. Don't deny the significance of these moments. You just might make history.

It's become common to embrace doctrine contrary to the example that Jesus gave as a coping mechanism. I used to preach that as a way to address questions God didn't seem to address and herein lies the birthplace of bad doctrine. I used to teach that when disease and affliction came upon you, if you rebuked it you just may be rebuking God (because He allowed it or else He would do something about it). Of course because it's dangerous to rebuke God, people stopped praying prayers of faith. As time went on, I realized that I had scared people out of standing against disease and left them with one option, to pray that His will would be done. Something happened after that. We stopped seeing breakthrough in healing and miracles and the faith level of the house moved from revival to survival.

So why don't people get healed? There are a few clues that we have from the life of Jesus that give a hint. Jesus touches a blind man who afterward sees men as trees walking. He needed a second touch from Jesus to get the full manifestation of the breakthrough. Persistence. I don't believe it is always a lack of faith on your part. One man who needed a miracles said to Jesus, "If you're able..." questioning even His ability to do it. You don't get much smaller in the faith department than that. Jesus replies challenging the mans ability to believe and then provides the miracle. Another man needing a miracles says, "if you're willing..." basically saying, I know you're able but I don't know your heart. Questioning the nature of God to offer an expression of love in healing. In both cases Jesus provides the miracle building their faith in the process. We also live in a place of great tension where we have promises in the Word of God and yet an enemy that would like to kill both us and the promise. So we have prayers that go unanswered and pain that persists. I believe this is the suffering of the believer is living in that tension between the Kingdom of light and the kingdom of darkness. The agreement that every believer needs to settle in their heart is that light is ALWAYS superior to darkness. When the man came to Jesus and said that the disciples couldn't cast out the demon from his son and Jesus said this kind only comes out by prayer and fasting, then he neither prays nor fasts for the situation but casts out the demon, He revealed the reason He spent so much time alone in communion with the Father for it afforded Him the anointing and power to overcome every obstacle to the Father's will.

When God said to Paul (who asked that the "thorn" be taken away three times) and said, "My grace is sufficient for you for power is perfected in weakness." (NASB) He wasn't saying be happy with what you got, or, hey, at least be happy you're going to heaven when this thing finally does you in. He was revealing to Paul that I have placed divine favor upon you and contained within that grace is the answer to every obstacle that you face. If you not allow your weakness to derail you from pressing in, you will find that place of power that will not only set you free but set free every captive and prisoner around you. Keep in mind that in the boat, Jesus calms the storm and then rebukes the disciples because of their failure to release what He has placed within them when He said, "Let's go to the other side." In the commission He revealed His will and in that commission was contained the grace to overcome every obstacle to His will, yet when the crunch time came, they cried out (prayed) for Him to do what He has equipped them to do and He rebuked them for it. Paul never records anything but asking God to take away this thorn, and true to the pattern of Jesus, it's revealed that He already contained the grace to overcome it. Paul accurately exposes the source of the thorn when he says it was a messenger of Satan to buffet him. 1 John 3 says that the purpose of the manifest presence of Jesus Christ the Son of God was to "destroy the works of the devil". If He lives within you then you are now equipped to live with that end in mind.

The question of the will of God has been answered. The highest measure is the standard of on earth as it is in heaven. Is there Leukemia in Heaven? No. So anything we pray that opposes that standard is contrary to what Jesus told us to contend for. God may have sent you into a battle but He never sends us into a battle we are not equipped to win. For now, however, we press deeper into the unknown for there's still a mystery to this and we haven't fully arrived. When we learn to embrace the mystery and persist in the process, we'll see the greater breakthrough that we all know is coming.

I was describing the worship experience in Maui to someone recently. Words like wild, crazy, out there, liberating, exuberant, all come to mind. But it's so hard defining the experience by a single adjective. It narrows it down to where you lose the sense of Spirit that exists in the reality of the moment. Unskilled communication often tarnishes the beauty of an experience that goes beyond whatever creativity we employ to explain it. Imagine you've been going to church services for two decades. For the first few weeks you're excited and thrilled until you notice other veteran Christians sitting around you who have settled. Like silt in the bottom of a lake, the surface says peace but beneath they know there's just dead fish and a foot of mud. You thrill to the wonder of the new while their attention wanes in the tranquility of nostalga. New songs make you fly and old songs make them cry. Eventually though, your new becomes old and others embrace a new that, to you, has painfully replaced what defined your Divine moment that now seems so very long ago. What you used to call a song service has now become worship and the expressions of those around you aren't what you learned during the first steps of your walk. Yet within you is a longing, a hunger, a vortex of youthful strength that, upon eagles wings, desires to soar. To extend the fullness of your physical reach, stretching without to dig deeper within, pressing in with every fiber of what now seems to be such feeble strength in that place of Presence. To lift your closed eyes if only to better gaze beyond the veil, to rise above every voice around in an audible declaration of freedom. Like the medieval town crier making known that which is unknown, issuing by decree the revelation of this newly discovered level in the endless depths of the raw creative force known as the love of God. That's the people in these pictures. That's worship in a place of freedom where you truly give your heart, mind, soul, and strength to the passion that comes from the Presence of Jesus Christ.

Tonight I went to an all night prayer/worship/prophetic art gathering at the First EV Free prayer chapel. I start with a blank canvas and no idea of what will end up on it. After an hour and a half, this is what emerged this time. It certainly means something specific to me but rather than render my own thoughts on the piece, I would prefer to hear yours so consider this your invitation to dig into the painting. I welcome any interpretations you have.

When I started blogging, there was me, some guy named Sven in Denmark, one girl with her webcam in Seattle, and an 11 year old Harvard student from Idaho who posted pictures of legos. Ah, those were the days. Little has changed in the past years, if you don't count the 2 billion bloggers added in the past five years. (Most of those being rabid Barak Obama supporters) I still have the same four readers, I'm still converting multitudes to mac, and my dog runs a bit slower than she used to. Today is a milestone though. I've finally added comments. Basically, when I started doing this, that wasn't an option, and until today, I just haven't gotten around to it. But some of the interaction I've had in email as a result of some of these posts has been really wonderful and worth sharing. So those of you who have read and wanted to comment, link to your own blogs, or use this site as a shameless plug for that Knight Rider lunchbox you're selling on ebay, have at it.

Ever notice that the first ones around Jesus who knew who He was had demons and darkness? The demoniac in the tombs, the harlot. The fortune teller knew who Paul was. Who missed it? The students of Scripture didn't have a clue. History hasn't changed much. If I'm insulated against any school of thought, it's the school that has eliminated the questions and cursed the mystery embraced by the teachable heart of the novice.
I love mystery. It's a foundational part of the faith to be able to pursue the more. Most of what we claim to know about this life in Christ is not unknown, just unfamiliar. To step into the unfamiliar, to pursue the proof of life, to lay claim to terrain you own but have never explored, this is the abundant life. Don't look to eliminate questions for in doing so you eliminate mystery. The ability to embrace mystery is what qualifies you to receive greater revelation. I no longer come to church to have my questions answered because most answers we construct fall well beneath the standard of on earth as it is in heaven. Let God be true and every man a liar, and call into question any revelation you have of God that has been constructed merely as a coping mechanism. A good church service is not one where you leave with all of your questions answered, but where you leave with some of your answers questioned.

There's this scene in an old episode of the Cosby Show where Bill Cosby's character (who is a doctor on the show) gets a call from one of his daughters friends who asks Bill if she can speak to the daughter. Bill says no. Then she asks if he can give the daughter a message. Bill says in this befuddled low and slow tone, "I graduated...(pause)...from medical school. I...(pause)...am a doctor." It's just a man who finds himself in a situation where, after blinking a couple of times, he mentally steps out of it to have a personal moment of conversation to see whether or not he ought to expect more out of life, or just resign to his fate that what is at hand is the lot in which he may as well pitch a tent and start a campfire cause, buddy, you're gonna be here awhile. I was working with my son the other day dumping garbage at a landfill. The hot afternoon wind whipped up a cloud of Texas limestone dust which combined with your already present sweat can turn you into what amounts to a statue bearing a strong resemblance to Michael Jackson. A garbage truck backed up a mere 20 feet from where we were standing and proceeded to dump a full load on the ground, creating all of the sudden a rather effervescent windbreak. Surrounded by diapers, unimaginable liquids, rotting food, and fighting the gag reflex Britain and I looked at each other and I said, "I was an underwater videographer in Maui." We laughed and laughed. Unhooking my parent's trailer the other day, we had a mishap with the sewage line. I'll spare the details but one look at Britain and we both started laughing again. Inside jokes can be a treasure that can take your mind off the fact that whatever just happened, I'll probably need a tetanus shot. We've had some nice things happen being back in Austin, but every day I find a half dozen times where I find it necessary to blink a couple of times, mentally step out of the moment, and have a personal conversation. "I was an underwater videographer in Maui." That was a good year. A really good year.

Here's the testimony of what happened to my Dad, Henry Vanderbush, this week.

Dad was taken by ambulance to St Davids on Wed morning around 11am. When he arrived, he was immediately admitted to a room in the ER. As near as we could tell, the ER was pretty full at the time and Traci and the kids were in the waiting room where there were around 30 people waiting to get in to be seen. We were told by the nurse that they would have admitted dad to a regular room except that the hospital was at capacity and there were no beds available. Dad was unable to speak in conversation but was able to pray and while he didn't know what year it was, and didn't know who the president was, he could perfectly say, "Thank You Jesus, Praise the Lord, Amen, Hallelujah, yes Lord", so for most of the day, that's what he said over and over again. By 3pm a nurse came in and said that beds were opening up and it would be 20 minutes or so and he would be moved to a regular room. Dad had looked concerned every time one of us left so we hadn't ventured out of the room much after 12. After more than an hour passed, we began to wonder what happened to the room they were going to take him to. I went out to ask a nurse about it and there was no nurse at the desk. The entire ER was strangely empty where at noon it had been a buzz of activity. I walked out to the waiting room (Traci had left with the kids around an hour after we arrived so I hadn't been out there for awhile) and on my way to the waiting room I saw that every room I passed was now empty. I opened the door to the waiting room and the waiting room was empty except for the lady behind the computer. I wandered back into emergency looking for a nurse or doctor or somebody and found one nurse walking down the hall towards me. I asked her about dad's room and she said something about everything at the hospital taking longer than you expect. I said, "It sure is empty around here." She said, "Shhhh, don't jinx us sir. This never happens."

I then realized the contrast from the time we arrived to a busy ER and full waiting room to four hours later when the place was literally empty except for my dad and wondered if perhaps just the presence of a man of faith was enough to have that kind of effect. Of course, the offense to the mind is that the man of faith is the only one left and is suffering with a stroke here and for all of the praying we're doing, the results seem to be poured out on everything around him while he, the focus of our prayers, remains unaffected.

There was one patient who came in around 5:30 and was put in the room across the hall so dad could see him. It was a man, probably close to dad's age, (they called him Mr McMahon) who had also had a stroke. Dad looked across the hall and attempted to ask us about him but all he could do was motion with his hands. I said, "It looks like he's had a stroke." Dad began to pray saying his usual praise the Lord, thank you Jesus, etc... Later that night after dad was admitted to a room, the neurologist came to see him again and I asked about mr McMahon and was told that he was released. Interestingly enough, when we got dad in a room, we noticed that the rooms on either side of him were also empty. I was somewhat irritated by this because I had been told the hospital was full and thought we had been lied to. I mentioned to the nurse that we were told they were full and she said, "We were, until this afternoon when a bunch of people got discharged all at once." Through all of this Dad prayed his way through the whole experience, praising God with his "Thank You Jesus, Praise the Lord, Amen, Hallelujah, yes Lord." (It's interesting to note that as of this writing, he's back to normal and remembers nothing of his hospital experience whatsoever).

On dad's condition, they did a CT scan when he arrived and could see that he did have a stroke and knew where in the brain it was. Thursday morning they would do an MRI to see more detail and get a look at any damage that had been caused by it and then we would have some idea as to what options we would have. Perhaps a stint and then some speech therapy. We prayed that there would be no damage at all. Thursday afternoon they returned with the results of the MRI which showed that he had no damage at all and he was released to go home. I want to thank you in advance for your continued prayers for my Dad.

Born in Fire

Living in the Kingdom is the state of living from Heaven towards earth. Jesus gave access into that place and perspective in Acts 1 when He said, speaking of the Holy Spirit, wait, get it, go. He didn't give further instruction in the politics of governing the movement once the Holy Spirit and fire was poured out upon us.  Fire doesn't need to have structure to have substance.  Never be consumed with defining the structure of that which can only be birthed and sustained by fire. Fire requires wind to burn and spread and those born of the Spirit will move like that wind. Our God is a consuming fire and the dead works of man are as dry stubble on the ground in this day. Yet its from the dry structures of religious form that a fire will spread, igniting the earth with the revelation of His Glory. The spirit of dead religion has seen its day of influence come and go as anointed declaration by the people of God releases the very life of Heaven. A Greater Awakening is upon us.

"And the Spirit and the bride say, come..." Rev 22. Consider what happens when the Holy Spirit and the bride of Christ begin to declare the same word.