Motorize Your Bicycle

November 20th, 2015

Sober up and Ride Off

The enemy is funny. If you say you don’t need to be changed or informed, and that you can do it all by yanking on your own bootstraps, he says you’re proud. If you say you hear from God daily, and that God changes you and makes you stronger and smarter, he still says you’re proud. He says you’re proud of your relationship with God. And that it’s imaginary.

Okay, whatever. I can’t even make human beings happy, so getting Satan to lay off me is not a priority.

I have a strong prayer life. It is not perfect; I don’t pray enough in the middle of the day. But compared to the prayer life of your average Christian (or to me three years ago), it’s very good. I pray in tongues maybe two and a half hours a day, on average. I spend a lot of time blessing and cursing. I pray with my understanding. I have lists so I don’t forget things.

Why tell you this? So you will know I am not talking out of my rear end when I say I hear from God.

As far as I can tell, almost no well-known Christian leaders have good prayer lives. They love to brag about the things they do for God, so if they were praying several hours every day, we would have heard about it over and over. They’re not doing it.

One of my favorite teachers, John Bevere, recently spoke of a time early in his ministry, when he was so gung-ho he prayed a couple of hours per day. Something like that. I don’t recall the exact figure. While encouraging people to pray in tongues daily, Perry Stone spoke admiringly of old people who sometimes prayed as long as twenty minutes at a crack.

If I only prayed in tongues twenty minutes per day, I would expect to collapse in a month. If I thought praying a couple of hours every day was a burden so large I needed to mention it publicly, I would consider myself lost and in need of revival.

I’m not doing enough, but I’m doing a lot. I have the authority and the standing to say a few things.

Feel-good pulpit pimps like Joel Osteen are telling people to relax. They’re telling people things are going to be fine. They don’t want to offend anyone, they don’t hear from God, and they don’t really care about us, so they say anything that will increase the size of their audiences and their income.

We have developed the habit of going to church in order to feel better. We are not all that interested in why we feel bad. People like Osteen and Jakes realize that, so they make us feel confident and inspired. Then we give them our money, which is all they really wanted, and we go home and continue to live in defeat.

I am hearing from God, and he is not telling me to relax or that everything is going to be fine. He makes me very agitated. He urges me to change. Something bad is coming, and if I’m not ready, I’ll be in the wrong line when we go through the pride detector.

Last night I had a disturbing dream, and I woke up. In the dream, I was Christopher Reeve, but I could walk, and I wasn’t rich. I had an idiot younger sister who had borrowed my bicycle. She had been thrown out of a place she was renting, and she had left the bicycle there. She led me to the place, and I went to the front to talk to the landlord. The area around the door was enclosed by a chain-link fence. The owner was a centaur. He came out and talked through the fence, but he wouldn’t let me in.

I was something like seven feet tall, and he was about five feet tall. I could have reached over the fence, lifted him out, tossed him aside, and gone in for the bike, but I didn’t have authority to do that, so I didn’t do it. He blew me off and went back inside.

I felt uneasy and started to pray. I spent a long time praying. The Holy Spirit made odd noises come out of me. When I say “made,” I don’t mean I had no self-control. I was submitted, so I did what he moved me to do.

I felt that I was being shaken and twisted, the way you would wring out a dishrag.

I started thinking about my iniquities and sins. I focused a lot on things I usually try to think of as inconsequential. If you have the urge to sin, it’s never inconsequential. The sin itself may not be a big deal, but the fact that you have the compulsion should alarm you.

I became very uncomfortable as this stuff rose to the surface. I didn’t like it at all. No one likes to think of himself as having qualities he considers trashy or disgusting. But I told God to keep pouring it on. I told him I didn’t care about feeling good. I wanted to know myself as I really was, and I wanted to change.

At my old church, they would have told me I was condemning myself. They would have told me to swallow the poison instead of throwing it up and being healed.

Until now, I didn’t really know what the dream meant, but suddenly it seems clear.

The little sister is the influence of people controlled by weak, feminine spirits that rule the church. She was silly. She was poor. She was a person no one respected. She did not own the land she lived on.

Christopher Reeve played Superman, but he wasn’t super. He was just a man. He had no skills, talents, or knowledge anyone would consider impressive.

In the dream, he had grey hair. Superman is immortal; his hair stays black. In the movies, he wears a costume made from indestructible Kryptonian cloth. It represents authority, power, and invulnerability. In the dream, he wore jeans and a button-down shirt, with loafers.

In the dream, he was strong by human standards, but it wasn’t helpful when the law was against him. He didn’t have the authority to take back what was his.

A centaur is a man supported by the body of a beast. It’s a man with a carnal foundation. It represents an unbeliever. In the dream, a little centaur was able to defy a large, strong man and take what was his. In a way, it had been given to him, because the man entrusted it to his stupid sister, just as we entrust Kenneth Copeland and Benny Hinn with our money and time.

The thing I wanted wasn’t even a car; it was a bicycle. To a grown man, a bicycle is a symbol of defeat and shame. It’s what you ride to work when you have a DWI, or when you don’t earn much. Most churches ride bicycles. They don’t have the power of the Holy Spirit, which is like a hot-rodded car engine.

I was not myself in the dream. I was a carnal Christian who walked in defeat because he tried to do things in his own strength.

This is what happens to people who don’t pray in tongues. They will usually lose to people who don’t believe in God at all. They won’t get to ride in cars, and they can even be cut off from their puny bicycles.

Eventually, the praying and groaning wound down, and I had to reset my alarm because I had missed so much sleep. The alarm interrupted another dream.

I dreamed I saw my father. He appeared to be over 100. He had no hair, and he was skinny, like a cancer patient. His body was just about gone, but his mind was absolutely clear, and he was energetic and at peace. In real life, he is dealing with dementia, he has a terrible weight problem, and he has no peace.

He had just cleaned a bathroom that had been filthy. I was amazed. In the he dream I had been trying and trying to get him to understand how nasty it was, and to clean it up. It stank up the whole house, and he couldn’t smell it.

I was relieved to see it clean. It was like winning the lottery.

I tried to say things that didn’t sound like backhanded criticism. I didn’t want to say “Finally!” I told him I would be happy to help him keep it clean.

Then we were driving. We were north of Miami. We drove through a little planned neighborhood that was very neat and peaceful. There was a Chick-Fil-A just inside the entrance.

We decided to have lunch. When we went in, the waiters stood in a group and started singing to us. They were that happy to see my dad.

It’s not surprising that it was a Chick-Fil-A. That’s what the atmosphere is like at their restaurants. They don’t sing to you, but they treat you like an honored guest. Also, Chick-Fil-A has become a symbol of Christianity.

When my dad expressed interest in tables, people rushed to get out of the way, even if they had been there first.

Christians have made themselves toilets for demons, which are our dead half-brothers. They are the children of angels. They express themselves in illness, mental problems, and iniquity. They take the place of the Holy Spirit. We are supposed to listen to God’s prophets and clean them out of ourselves.

Preachers aren’t teaching us how to be cleaned up and sanctified. They serve demons. They just want our money, so they don’t tell us we have become dirty bathrooms. They say we smell like roses, but in reality, we stink inside.

We can’t smell the stink because we lack discernment, which comes from praying in tongues. Often we think a horrible stench is a delightful aroma.

Sometimes the church has to go through terrible, wasting persecution, which is like cancer, in order to be put right.

When we are raptured, we will be taken to God’s wedding feast, in the planned community of heaven, where every one of us has a home, and the angels will be so glad they sing over us.

The sooner a person repents and develops a real prayer left, the less chastisement he will have to face before he straightens up.

You don’t have to look like a cancer patient when you leave the earth. You can be fit and strong, with all your hair.

Hair represents the glory of God, which accumulates around people who commune with the Holy Spirit on a daily basis. Prayer in tongues is the primary method for communing with him.

The conclusion I drew is that just before the rapture comes, God will succeed in changing a lot of Christians. They won’t have much time to get to know him or to make great progress in becoming like him, but he will manage to change their direction enough to get them in the door.

They will change during a time of affliction. That’s the reason for the weight loss and the sickly look. The baldness represents the fact that the change and the rapture came too close together to permit them to accumulate much in the kingdom.

The bathroom is the heart. It’s a place where you should meet with the Holy Spirit and get rid of the demons that inhabit it. You should be bleaching the walls and floor to get rid of their excrement. You should be flushing the residue away.

I represented people God sent to warn others.

Judging by the dream, they won’t listen any time soon. They will wait as long as possible, and it will cost them, both here and in heaven.

At least they’ll make it.

According to the book of Jubilees, Noah got 120 years to warn his neighbors. He didn’t do well at all. He saved his wife, three sons, and their daughters. A legend says he saved a giant named Og; even if that were true, it would be a pretty poor harvest.

In the Flood, God destroyed the world with water. We know that he’s going to destroy it again, with fire. We know that it will happen in a time of pride and perversion, like the times of Noah and Lot. Here we are, stoking the flames and laughing at the one who is holding them back.

The end of this age will not come on a day when we expect it. We know that for a fact. We have been informed of that, expressly. When it comes, we will be hit like Ronda Rousey, flatfooted, wondering where our confidence came from.

It’s interesting that her most painful and damaging injury was to the mouth she used to say nasty things.

Persecution is increasing very quickly all over the world. Even in “Christian” America, you’re in danger. If you’re a Christian, and you plan a career or business, you have to ask yourself whether it’s safe from gays.

Do you design websites? You may have to design some promoting bathhouses and depraved gay organizations. Do you have a restaurant? You may have to rent the banquet room out for gay weddings. Are you a professor? You may have to endorse homosexuality in order to be allowed to work, and you may have to endorse it off the job, not just on campus.

Satan is squeezing the world like a boil, and we are the pus he is trying to expel. God is letting him do it, because we evicted God from our lives.

God is not an enabler. God is doing what addiction counselors call “raising the bottom.” If you let an addict hit bottom, it means you don’t help him. You let him go broke and live on the streets so he’ll go to rehab. If you raise the bottom, you do things that accelerate the process so it will move faster.

Things are going to get bad much faster than we expected. You can’t change yourself overnight. It may already be too late to pray in tongues and be rehabilitated. You need to start so you can preserve as much as possible.

I’m very glad God isn’t stuffing me with cotton candy and root beer. That’s what televangelists do. They fill us with morphine and vodka so they can see our nakedness. They don’t care if we go to hell or if we are Satan’s slaves here on earth. God cares, so he tells me the truth. He’ll tell you the truth, too, but you have to turn on your radio. He’s not going to come down on a hang glider, shouting through a bullhorn. He will let you go to hell before he will let you change his ways.

He has thrown thousands of people into hell today, and you and your children are no better than they are.

My advice is to get started. Set time aside each day. Keep asking God for correction. Keep begging him to spare you the black harvest you sowed. That’s what I do.

Get to know him yourself, so you won’t have to rely on lies from imaginative preachers.

I can’t even imagine what he is going to be showing me in the months ahead. I do know that things are as good as they’ll ever get.

2 Responses to “Motorize Your Bicycle”

  1. WB Says:

    Interesting that the centaur ate people and lived in a labyrinth where no one was able get to it–until one day…..

  2. Steve H. Says:

    I believe that would be the minotaur. Or possibly Rapunzel.