Because You Asked

I never know what to do with this blog. Quit altogether? Take it down?

I started blogging in 2002, on the recommendation of my friend Aaron. I thought it sounded unappealing. The word “blog” sounds like something you find in your nose after cleaning a dusty attic. But I signed up with Blogger, and off I went.

I already had a Homestead site which was not in blog format. I had to post every item in a somewhat time-consuming way. It’s amazing that anyone saw it, because then as now, blogs get more attention than random websites. Aaron told me a blog was a better way, maybe because he knew how search engines and blog links worked.

By the time I moved, I was already very excited about the Internet. I did not realize blogging was already dead. Anyone who put up a site in 1998 and wrote anything remotely interesting became popular. By the time I arrived, you had to network or have a sponsor like Instapundit or…it’s been so long I can’t remember the others. If you didn’t attract the attention of big bloggers by happenstance, and if you weren’t the type of person who sits around emailing strangers all day, pretending to like them and begging for links, you were not likely to get far.

I loved what I was doing. I was practicing law, but I was a failed writer, and I found that hard to accept. I had been published regularly in the local newspaper’s Sunday magazine. Unfortunately, their in-house humorist was Dave Barry, so they didn’t exactly see me as their savior. I had quit writing professionally in maybe 1988, partly because I had not gotten very far, and partly because I was attending church and finding myself somewhat alienated from the secular world. When, in my small way, I returned to writing, I felt like I had wings.

My traffic increased until I had something like 3,000 unique visits per day. I felt I had not succeeded. People whose work was not very good were getting ten times that much traffic. I still enjoyed it, though, and back during the Bush years, bloggers had more influence on the world, so that was a nice incentive.

I was amazed when my work led to the publication of three books. They did not do well. The first one was too long, and it was handicapped by an awful title. The second one was a throwaway I wrote just because I was asked. The third one was my dream project. I think it would have done better, but by the time came to get serious about promoting it, I was a different person. During the promotion process, I lost enthusiasm.

At one point, I got an interview with Mancow. I was thrilled. On the big day, I put on my headphones and turned on Skype. I listened to him and waited to be introduced. While I waited, he made a joke I could not believe. I don’t even like describing it, but I will say that it was about committing a sex act with God. I was horrified. That was going to be the last thing people heard before they heard my voice. I should have hung up, but I had waited for that interview for so long, and millions of people were listening. I did the interview, but I felt I had learned something. This was not God’s plan for me.

I hated to give up on writing again and take a chance on losing my agent and whatever small amount of momentum I had gathered, but I wanted my next book to be about God, and I was not willing to start it without God’s inspiration. Most Christian books are written by people who barely know God. They’re full of errors and even outright lies. They tend to be relatively useless. Many–Rick Warren’s books are examples–are actually harmful.

I wanted to write books that would lead to miracles and inner transformation. I started a project last year, but I eventually realized I was getting ahead of the Holy Spirit, so I let it go.

There were unexpected developments in my relationship with God. I think I had problems because I was thinking of him too much as a source of blessing and deliverance and not enough as someone to whom I owed the opportunity to transform me. Things went much better than they had while I was away from God, but there were speed bumps.

I joined a crooked church, and I thought they were serious about God, but eventually I realized they were parasites who stole from the people God had sent them to help (unless they had sent themselves, which seems likely). When I started serving there, I thought I had found my home, and that the problems I had endured while trying to fit into the secular world were behind me. I was wrong about that. They treated me exactly the same way the world had. They rejected me and took advantage of me.

That church was not a refuge from the world. It WAS the world. All they thought about was money and fame. That should have been a big setback, but fortunately, I did not see it as a problem in my relationship with God. I saw it, correctly, as a problem with a few carnal people who ran a church. My walk with God continued to prosper, and eventually, he showed me a better church. I took off in a hurry. I was tired of praying God to help preachers who had no interest in being helped.

Now I go to a church that amazes me. I have been delivered from corrupting and hindering spirits there. I have been welcomed into the family. The things I said which brought condemnation down on me at the old church now bring me respect and gratitude. I have never missed the other church. Not for a second. On the contrary, I thank God often for answering my prayers for a new church.

My life is bearing fruit now, in ways that I never expected. I have never been one to hang around with young people. I’ve always thought there was something little off about anyone who would want that (and often, there is). But at New Dawn, I’ve affected people’s lives in lasting ways, and a number of those people are young.

I have two goddaughters; one is eleven months old, and another is still in the pipeline. Young people have come to my garage just to pray. Talking about God at the old church was like yelling down the toilet, because no one listened, but now there are people who pay attention and run with the things I tell them. And God keeps sending us people from the old church. The pastors there think I’m an evil Svengali who uses mystical powers to “poach” his livestock, but they come on their own, because they’re worn out. If you beat a dog every day, eventually it stops coming when you call it.

I am still not used to having pastors who talk about God instead of flattering the famous preachers who occasionally let them kiss the ring. It’s very strange, to come out of a lifestyle in which having people take advantage of you is par for the course. When people treat you well, a little part of you wonders what’s wrong.

My life is full of prayer now. I get revelation from God every day. I sense his presence every day. Faith pours through me in rushes I can physically feel. He has promised me so many good things, I’ve made a list of them, and I keep it on my cell phone.

He has shown me how filthy I made myself, and how much opportunity there is for healing and restoration. He is using me to guide others to these things. That beats getting fat checks for writing humor which is largely based on pain, cruelty, and revenge. It’s a good thing I didn’t manage to turn my problems into cash cows. If I had, I would have no incentive to reject and overcome them.

I know a great deal about God and Christianity now. I know that this planet is God’s womb. He created us in order to reproduce, and in this world, we become his children or the children of Satan. I know where demons came from and what they do. I know how they influence the world. I know how to get authority and freedom. People won’t listen unless the Holy Spirit gives them ears, but from time to time, he does that, so while most people will continue going to hell, and most Christians will continue to serve Satan, many are going to be freed. That’s wonderful. What better purpose could I have?

I’m not concerned about the future. God has it covered. The things he told me are in my list of promises, and they will come to pass. I feel a little irresponsible, not running on the world’s hamster wheel, but then I am not part of this world. It may seem that I lack direction, but in reality, I’m on track, and most people are lost. They seem to be doing the smart thing; they are playing the game by the rules. But they’re playing the wrong game, and I’m playing the right one.

I thought God would have a purpose in this blog, and that he might bring people here. That hasn’t happened, to any substantial degree. Maybe that will change, or maybe this chapter of my life is over.

Anyway, life is good. I am healthy. The recession never touched me. I am succeeding at things at which I used to fail. If anyone is worried about me, they need to quit. Maybe I’ll come back and write more, or maybe I’ll take the site down. I can’t promise anything, because I don’t know the plan. But I am doing well.

I Thought Only Criminals Took Kickbacks

My church keeps taking in refugees from my old church, Trinity in Miami Gardens. I keep learning new things about Trinity’s leadership, and I am more disgusted than ever.

A week or so back, I heard that someone I knew from Trinity might be visiting New Dawn. I was so glad to hear it; this was a person who worked hard at Trinity, and he was one of the unglamorous, forgotten people the leaders took for granted and ignored.

On Sunday, I was standing at my seat, and I saw a familiar face. There he was. I had expected him to take longer to decide to come. I went over to say how glad I was to see him.

During the service, our pastor called him up for prayer and a word from God. He had tears in his eyes, which was very much unlike him.

We had a powerful, Holy-Spirit-driven service. And when it was over, I saw my friend at the back, and I went over to talk to him. He was waiting for the media people to record a CD of the service for him.

He told me terrible things. He had been a Trinity employee. He said they had forced him to work extra hours without pay, as a “volunteer.” I knew all about that. Other people have told me the same thing. But he said something even more shocking. Trinity deducted ten percent from his paychecks and called it a tithe. And it was not his idea. He resented it.

I was dumbfounded. Every time I think I’ve been too hard on these…I am tempted to call them pigs…people, I find out I haven’t been harsh enough.

They have no anointing. By that I mean they do not have the authority of God. They are off on their own, trying to get rich and famous, doing whatever seems right to them. They don’t have much talent. They’re not very intelligent. They have extremely poor judgment. They are not street smart. But they don’t mind stooping to gutter tricks in order to make themselves seem successful. They’re clever enough to do that. They hire relatively desperate people, they don’t pay their unemployment insurance (so they’re afraid to quit), I am told they require them to work extra hours for nothing, and if what I’ve heard is correct, they take ten percent of their meager pay back as a kickback.

Stealing ten percent from an employee is not tithing. A tithe is voluntary, and it has to be money you give back. It can’t be money which is withheld. God wants you to have the money in your hand and decide to release it. He doesn’t want a creepy preacher with hair implants refusing to pay it to you when he owes you.

For years I’ve been saying that Trinity Church and the other prosperity whores do great damage, not just because they fail to introduce people to the Holy Spirit, but because they turn people against God. I’ve said they hurt people so badly, they turn them away from church. Well now I’ve seen it. New Dawn scoops up former Trinity members who have quit going to church! They don’t always leave Trinity for other churches. They just leave! The cruelty they experience at Trinity causes them to lose faith.

That is astounding. The Trinity people are doing the opposite of what God wants. They are anti-evangelists.

Poor sincere people want to please God. They want to know the truth. And the carnival barkers who run Trinity keep it from happening. They keep God at a distance, and they leave people so hurt they don’t want to try any more!

I have a friend who says the pastor’s son is anointed. That’s not correct. People can have gifts, and they can have anointings. As Perry Stone says, they’re not the same thing. Rich Wilkerson Jr. can preach well. On the talent scale, I would give him a B. But it’s all empty, because God is not behind it. The gift has not been taken away, but there is no anointing. These people do evil in God’s name, so there is no possibility that they have God’s authority.

By their fruit, we know them. Their fruit–hurt, discouraged people–show up at our door like stray dogs. And in our church, God rebuilds them and shows them the love they were denied at Trinity.

Today our pastors are looking at a new building. We have started churches in Honduras, Georgia, and Central Florida. We will probably have one in the Pensacola area. Our services are full of babies. We are growing. We have peace, love, and unity. That stuff doesn’t happen at Trinity. They couldn’t start a lemonade stand. God keeps snuffing out their projects. So they run to the government for grant money. They can’t get God’s blessing, so they have to go to Barack Obama. The godfather of the abortion movement.

I have restrained myself too much. God keeps telling me to be open and honest about the filth, and I don’t always listen. There are probably people who would have been free by now had I been more obedient.

I keep praying for God to depress the handle and flush the people who run Trinity. They need to go. They do so much harm. Let them try their huckster skills at car lots and appliance stores, where their kind usually works. They are not needed in the church. They are ruining people’s lives. Their undeserved jobs are not worth it.

It has a Limit

My sister has been found guilty of felony fleeing and eluding. The court’s website does not say anything about the disposition of the aggravated battery charge. It says there will be a pre-sentencing investigation. That doesn’t mean she avoided the three-year minimum. It may just mean they want to decide whether she gets MORE than three years. Unless they changed the charges, or I was wrong about the statute involved, she will get at least three years, and she will serve every single day of the minimum, no matter how well she behaves.

This is really something. That’s the end of her law license. At least for the foreseeable future. She won’t be allowed to possess arms. She won’t be allowed to vote. Getting a job will be nearly impossible.

Over the last couple of days, I have had some unsettling thoughts.

God is restoring me. A few nights back, I kept hearing sentences in my head, and I got up and wrote them down. One was, “The one who loves me is healing me.” I have seen this happening. And part of it is undoing the damage other people have done to me.

I forgive my sister. I renew my forgiveness in prayer often. I don’t want to live in the past or be burdened by it. But the truth is that she has persecuted me ever since I was born.

Even when she was in her forties, it bothered her for me to sit in the front seat of a car. That’s how bad it was. She’s short, but she absolutely had to be in the front seat. She got very angry when I sat in front. That’s probably the best illustration of the way she felt about me. It was not normal sibling rivalry.

When we were in social settings with other people, she sought to exclude me. For example, she once started a card game for four hands, while there were five of us in the room, and I was the one left out. She would ridicule me and try to get other people to use insulting epithets she had made up for me.

Why bring this up? Because God can’t heal and restore me while allowing a persecutor to continue. If you get close to God, and you develop a good prayer life and put God’s goals first, he is going to restore you and bless you. He will humble your enemies and take back what they took from you.

If that is the case, and it certainly is, what will happen to your friends, relatives, and acquaintances, if they abuse you and refuse to change?

If you know someone who is developing a strong connection with God, and you’re not treating them right, you need to wake up before you land in trouble. God is not going to wait for your repentance until his child is on his deathbed. He is patient with the rebellious, but not to the point where he refuses to save his children from them in a timely way.

I know this will sound bad to the people who believe in what Ward Brewer calls “Squishy Jesus.” We have been taught that we will suffer and lose until we die, and that we should never, ever acknowledge anyone else’s bad acts or inclinations, but that’s a lot of garbage. The Holy Spirit killed Ananias and Sapphira in the New Testament. God killed Herod in the New Testament. Look what happened to Judas. Paul turned a man over to Satan so his flesh could be destroyed. Judgment is still with us, and the rebellious still receive it.

I hate to say this, but the other day I realized that if my sister is confined for a season, I’ll have rest. I feel like someone is lifting filthy rags off of my face. My life will actually be improved. I would have preferred to see her change, but I have to have relief, one way or the other.

If they put her away, she will be cared for, and she will be exposed to prison ministries. That will be a thousand times better than living in squalor and idleness.

I may take this down later. I don’t know. What happened to her is a matter of public record. I don’t know if it serves any purpose to keep quiet, especially if people can learn from this. I will consult God and do what he says.

I glorify him for making her unable to inflict misery on me. He has saved me from a tremendous amount of suffering already, over the last three or four years. Had she been at full strength, this would have been a time of oppression and turmoil.

I also thank him for not giving up on her.

Let’s Talk About What’s Really Importantt

This is one of the weirdest things I’ve ever seen. A friend of mine just sent it to me.

Those are my old pastors.

That video is so strange. They don’t even mention God, except in the pronoun “your.”

Am I the crazy one here? Is this not disturbing?

“Just bring us a big bunch of money. Thank you for listening.”

The Need is Worse Than You Think

It looks like my sister is going to have to face the music.

She got a pile of continuances in her criminal cases, along with a year-long diversion program, but she went in for her trial yesterday, and they did not dismiss the case or give her another continuance. They are going to carry on tomorrow.

I don’t know a lot about criminal courts, but I do know that judges tend to use Mondays for housekeeping, so it wasn’t likely that the Monday trial date would be used for an actual trial. On Mondays, the judge goes through a long list of defendants. Some plead, some are released, some get alias capiases, and some are scheduled for trial.

The State’s Attorney has assigned a new trial prosecutor, and at 9:00 a.m. tomorrow, the show begins.

If they try her on the charges I looked up when she got arrested, she has at least one multiple-year minimum sentence to deal with, and the only person who can change that is the prosecutor. The judge cannot legally lower the sentence or change the charge. And the prosecutor won’t budge unless the cop she hit with her car consents.

It is amazing to see this level of rebellion and denial. She’s not insane, so that isn’t the explanation. Every day, people go to rescue missions, change their minds, and find help, and she is capable of doing that. It’s remarkable that she hasn’t done so.

With my lack of experience in criminal law, I can’t say for sure that there is no possibility of a plea, but if a plea was in the offing, why haven’t they handled it by now? As an intern, I pleaded a guy out in front of Marilyn Milian, the “People’s Court” judge. You don’t need a trial date. You stand in front of the judge for five minutes and say “yes” over and over. They could have done that yesterday, or for that matter, over a year ago.

If I were charged with a misdemeanor carrying two days’ worth of jail time, I’d lick the judge’s shoes to make things right, so I can’t comprehend the thought process of a person who does not cooperate.

I don’t worry. Anything is better than the current situation. I suffered because of my own rebellion and lack of common sense, and it worked out for the best. Same thing happens to other people. That’s life.

Prison isn’t continuous torture. They feed you and clothe you, and you get free medical care. It’s not desirable, but it’s not Auschwitz.

Changing topics, God is revealing a lot of things to me. Suddenly, I have gotten a revelation of the harm the enemy and other human beings have done to me. It’s surprising.

When you think you can’t fix a situation, the natural thing is to ignore it and even forget it. That has been the case with me, but now I know God heals, and suddenly, the memories and the pain are re-emerging.

It sounds bad, but it’s great. I’m not suffering. I feel like I’m disgorging poison other people forced down my throat. I’m getting rid of it. I’m sending it back.

Last week I realized how much harm my old pastors did, and how badly they treated me. As far as I can tell, they didn’t care much about anything except money and self-promotion. You could get a prayer out of them once in a while, and I don’t think they wished harm on their flock, but basically, they did not want to get bogged down in things like helping people and seeking God’s presence. They were very BUSY. Which means they had set their hearts on other things.

They promoted the young and foolish, because young, hip people look cute in videos and on stage. They excluded and disrespected the old and sincere. They exalted idiots like Luther Campbell. They put charlatans like Steve Munsey in front of their flock and encouraged people to give money they could not afford. And if you spoke up, you were labeled a divider. You didn’t “get it.” They wouldn’t say this to your face, but you would feel it. And you would find that other people were getting opportunities that would ordinarily have gone to you.

I still remember the time they asked me to drive to Broward County to ferry luggage for a Christian band called the Planetshakers. Through marriage, they’re connected to the pastor’s brother-in-law, who is nominally a pastor, although he’s really a realtor who hangs around the church. They flew into MIA, and they were staying in Hollywood, and the brother-in-law’s vehicle would not hold the luggage.

I live south of the airport, and the hotel was about 20 miles north, to give you an idea of the craziness of this plan.

I agreed, because I thought they were playing at our church. And because I had been conditioned to trust the pastors. In their position, I would never be corrupt enough to use my position for personal benefit. I didn’t try to analyze things to see if they made sense.

I spent about 3 1/2 hours driving around in rush hour traffic, and then the Planetshakers didn’t play at my church. And the request had come through the brother-in-law, not the head pastor.

I realized what had happened. They didn’t feel like paying for luggage delivery, so they let me burn my fuel and waste my afternoon, driving sixty miles in the process. They could come up with over a grand per person to make the flight, and they could stay at a Marriott, but they could not spend a few bucks to get their luggage delivered, and they could not be bothered to have the brother-in-law or one of his kids make the trip.

It was pure corruption. I was a volunteer for my church, not for the brother-in-law’s family. What they did was like having a prison work crew do construction at the business of the brother of a governor. And they knew it. You don’t have to be a genius to see the difference between church-related work and undeserved services to ease the lives of the pastor’s relations.

When someone treats you like that, and later, you realize what happened, it has a big effect on your ability to trust. And this was just one of many sleazy things I witnessed.

Last week, I realized the leadership at that church was treacherous. They stabbed people in the back. I had never thought of it that way, but it was true. People gave them money, time, loyalty, and devotion, and in return, the leaders used them. They could not be trusted.

Suddenly I understood why I could not get used to trusting and liking the pastors at my new church. They had never abused my good will, yet it always made a big impression on me when they did the right thing. As if it were something I should not expect.

I used to complain that crooked preachers damaged people by making it hard for them to trust good preachers and God himself. But until last week, I didn’t understand how right I was. In some corners of my heart, my new pastors, who never, ever let me down, were still on trial! And so was God!

Since then, in prayer, I’ve been talking to God about healing and deliverance. I’ve been recalling the hurts that changed my life for the worse. I feel like I’ve been vomiting them out.

Healing and deliverance don’t come just from venting and analyzing. To be truly effective, they have to be supernatural. And that’s what I’m getting. I feel these things leaving me and being turned around.

I would never have gotten these things at Trinity. They would have kept me on the bottom forever, like Samson turning his millstone to make grain for his enemies.

Here’s something I wrote the other day:

In the past, I’ve complained that money-hungry liars hurt people by making it hard for them to trust churches and even to trust God. But until very recently, I didn’t realize how right I was. The damage they do is incredible. No wonder God has told me to speak up. We’ve been asleep while the wolves walked through the fold! We sit and watch while they tear our friends in pieces. We’re not even bothered! We bring them ketchup and top off their water glasses.

Jesus said:

“Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me; and whoever ensnares one of these little ones who trust me, it would be better for him to have a millstone hung around his neck and be drowned in the open sea! Woe to the world because of snares! For there must be snares, but woe to the person who sets the snare!”

What do millstones symbolize? Slavery to the ungodly world. Samson was forced to turn a millstone after his eyes were put out and he lost the power of God. What does the sea symbolize? The combined voices of many people; usually, the unsaved world.

Greedy, lying pastors are slaves to the god of this world, so it’s fitting that Jesus said they should be drowned and dragged down by the symbol of what they truly believe in: carnality. They are blind, like Samson, so they serve their enemies. Because they don’t trust God, they have to work and struggle in order to make it, while those who have God’s favor are carried forward as though surfing. Psalm 5:12.

And the fact that they drown suggests they will be destroyed by worldly voices. God won’t protect them when their true nature is uncovered by unbelievers.

I am just starting to understand Psalm 34:8-10. If we seek the Lord, we’ll live almost as Adam did, with favor going before us in all we do. If not, we’ll live like the greedy, sleazy people we see pretending to sell blessings on TBN, and our very names will come to represent whoredom.

You are probably hurt worse than you realize. There is more help available than you realize. Don’t be satisfied with what ignorant people call “grace.” The willingness to suffer with unnecessary problems is not “grace.” The word “grace” refers to God’s undeserved help.

If you’re stuck in a bad church, don’t try to fix it. Pray for God to give you a better one. Then pray in the Spirit every day, be honest with God, and get well. Then you can help others.

Only One News Item

Not much is going on here. I am still working on my stainless steel garlic press. I got a new adapter plate for my 8″ rotary table. Oh, and MY DAD WANTS TO VISIT MY CHURCH.

That won’t mean anything to people who don’t know the story.

My grandfather was a sheriff in Eastern Kentucky. He died in 1943, from uremia. My second cousin thinks it was caused by food poisoning. My dad was eleven years old.

Drunkenness has always been a big problem in Appalachia. The churches have always fought with it. One day not long after my grandfather died, my dad and his mother and sisters were in church, and, as it was told to me, the pastor told my dad’s oldest sister to get up and say whiskey had killed her father.

Since then, my dad has not been very fond of church.

For as long as I can remember, my dad has ridiculed Christians. He has been very hostile to churches. He has insisted that he has a more sophisticated view of spiritual things. His unwillingness to listen has gone beyond normal skepticism. There is no way to get past it with reason. My guess is that spirits have been assigned to perpetuate it, because it is not natural.

I don’t pressure him, although I do answer any questions he has, and I ask people to pray for him. I pray for my father and my sister every day, very sincerely, and I ask God to send other people, as well as spirits, to move them in the right direction. I ask God to soften their hearts and give them revelation, because it is only by revelation that anyone believes in Jesus.

God has give him all sorts of signs. I’ve written about them here. Recently, he sent him a feisty Colombian CNA to sit by his bed for five hours a day while he recovered from a back injury. She hammered him incessantly, trying to get him to give in and listen to the message of salvation.

On the day he asked about church, nothing unusual was happening. Benny Hinn hadn’t driven by and sprinkled the house with Holy Anointing Glitter. No one had talked to my dad about God. I wasn’t expecting anything. But he came to my office door and asked if I was going to church that day, and when I said it wasn’t until Sunday, he said that the next time I went, he wanted to visit.

I was so unnerved I was afraid to drive.

I am hoping his back will be well enough so he can attend on Tuesday. I am aware that the enemy is going to bust his butt trying to kill this revelation, but I am praying and working against that, and so are my friends, so the enemy is not going to get his way. God is for this, so it’s going to happen.

Keep praying in tongues every day for long periods. It will change things. It will even change the people around you. And try some soaking music. Play it in your house, especially when you pray. These things matter. Satan didn’t create rock and roll and shove it into every house in the world because it was powerless.

Learn to rest in God, and you will see things happen.

The Dream is Within Reach

I had the funniest experience yesterday.

I was watching American Pickers, the show about the guys who drive around buying old stuff other people have hoarded. They resell it, usually at about a 100% markup. They burrow through barns and attics, and they meet all sorts of interesting people. Very often, they end up on big properties with one or more outbuildings, and the buildings are full of junk.

Yesterday, they took a random right turn and ended up on a dirt road which had not been selected in advance (supposedly). They went past a “KEEP OUT” sign and stopped at a building resembling a garage. They hollered and went in, and they found two weird old guys playing homemade musical instruments. They were surrounded by tools and knickknacks.

I heard myself think, “THIS IS HOW I WANT TO LIVE.”

Not so much the sitting around with another old guy, playing music on an instrument made from a plunger handle and a Chock Full of Nuts can. Not that part. The part I liked was being a good distance off the road, on a big property, with no one aggravating me. In a building with concrete walls. Surrounded by cool stuff.

They visited another guy later. He was some sort of engineer, I think. I don’t remember. Naval something or other. He had a lathe, a huge bending brake, lots of grinders, a giant vault, and God knows what else. There were old tin toys there. He had a wooden wind-tunnel model of a plane; his uncle had built it for some outfit that was trying to make supersonic aircraft.

I realized one of the major differences between my garage and his shop was character. He was doing more to keep his junk ordered. I tend to avoid the garage in the summer, because the heat is bad, and a couple of pieces of garage door insulation fell off a while back, which made things worse. The garage was a big mess.

Day before yesterday I went out and fixed the insulation and straightened up a little. After I watched the pickers show, I continued. I went back to work on my garlic press project. You can’t really clean up a shop if there are old projects lying around.

In cross-section, from the side, the press is an H. It’s a stainless tube blocked by a plate about halfway down. The plate will have holes in it, and there will be a plunger which mashes garlic through the holes. Think of a hypodermic syringe with a sieve instead of a needle at the end. Sort of like that.

I had a cylinder made, and I had bored out one end of it. I needed to bore the other end, leaving a 0.10″-thick plate in the tube, for the holes to go through. I considered doing this on the lathe, but the steel I’m using throws ungodly long chips, so I stuck it on the mill and used a 1/2″ end mill.

It took forever, dropping down 0.025″ at a time and going through 360° of rotation, but I got it done. Now I have to radius the sharp edges and drill the holes. The plunger is already done. It fits so well, when you drop it in the press, it sinks in very slowly, because it’s hard for the air under it to escape.

That’s cool. I like to drop the plunger over and over and watch it sink.

It’s looking more and more like I’m getting out of here. God be praised. I would say that even if I were an atheist. I do NOT NOT NOT like Miami. I want to be able to go outside and walk a hundred yards before hitting a property line. I want to hear English once in a while. I want to be able to wear long pants occasionally. I want to be able to drive ten miles in less than twenty minutes.

My dad has a 46-foot boat which has been a problem. He uses it as a place to hide out, which is fine, but it’s his main motivation for staying in Miami. I can’t let his hobby ruin my life. I want him to enjoy himself, but this is too much to ask. He doesn’t want me to move 700 miles away, and I understand that, because of his age. I’m against it, too. But if I have to leave without him, I will do it, because this place is not right for me.

Today he started talking about selling the boat. Thank you, Lord. He could keep it in Pensacola (currently my preferred destination), and maybe that’s the better option, but I’m glad to see him consider unloading it. It shows God is breaking things loose.

I am not excited about practicing law, but it’s a pleasant way to earn money, and if I can do it up there and generate income without becoming a cubicle slave, you better believe I’ll do it and be grateful.

Some people need room. I guess I’m one of them. I have several worthwhile hobbies you can’t indulge in a small suburban house. I want to be able to shoot on my own land. I need a shop with an area of at least 800 square feet. I need a normal-sized kitchen. Until I get these things, I’m going to feel like I’m wearing a burlap straitjacket.

I feel bad for my dad. Rejecting God preserves your pride, but it costs you peace and satisfaction. God is ordering my path, and he would gladly order my dad’s path, too, if he would give in.

I’ve located some tempting properties in the 20-acre range. That will suffice. I’d rather have a hundred, but from this chair, I can see three houses without standing up, so 20 will seem like heaven itself.

Prayer in tongues lines things up. It makes things happen. People reject this advice. I can’t help that. I put it out there. Benefit from it or don’t. At least I can say I told you.

Hopefully by this time next year, I’ll have a shop and some tomato plants. That would sure be nice.

Send me a Big Donation so I Can Buy me a Airplane

I keep learning new things about God. Actually, I guess they’re old things. But the human race threw away a lot of knowledge before I came along, so they’re new to me.

The Old Testament is loaded with symbolism. Earthly things in the Torah symbolize spiritual things in the lives of Spirit-filled Christians. One thing I’ve noticed: when the Old Testament talks about wealth, it symbolizes things like wisdom and faith.

Greedy, confused charismatic preachers go on TV and quote Malachi 3 to us, thinking it’s all about money. If you give money to ministries, God will make you rich. That’s not true. I know someone who gave until she was poor. She gave instead of paying her debts. She spent wildly, in addition to giving. The TBN preachers endorse that way of life. They’re fools. It doesn’t work. I believe we have to be generous with earthly wealth, but it’s very clear that giving to ministries, alone, will not bring you financial security.

People buy into this stuff, and they give (or their elderly, confused parents give), and fortunes are ruined. It’s a bad thing.

I do believe God blesses us for giving, but mainly, he wants us to give real wealth. Giving people money and objects is helpful, sometimes, but it’s better to give them things that transform them permanently.

The story of Samson symbolizes the history of the Spirit-filled church. God’s power rested on Samson, and while it did, he performed acts no unaided human could perform. That power was only on him while he kept his hair, which is a thing that grows with time. When the hair was taken, only the man remained, and he lost his vision and his power.

Christians who pray in the Spirit copiously grow in strength and knowledge. Jesus said the kingdom of heaven (which is inside us) was like a tree. The first Psalm confirms this. It develops over time and becomes great. It grows. Like hair. Like any tree, it has to be watered consistently. Jesus and Paul told us that the “living water” was the language the Holy Spirit put inside us. Use it to water the tree daily, and you will grow in wealth. Whether or not you accumulate money in this world, you will have supernatural, lasting wealth in the spirit realm. And a person who fails to do this will be poor and naked.

I have a close friend who accepted the message of tongues a few years back, and he made great strides, but he backslides sometimes. He has an unfortunate problem. When things go badly, he doesn’t feel like praying, so he cuts off the power he needs to recover. He knows it’s not right, but you know how life is. It’s hard to control your own behavior.

When he called me in the past, I gave him good advice which helped him. I always asked him whether he was praying in tongues daily, and he always said the same thing: he was neglecting it. And when he started up again, things started going well for him and his family.

That was good advice, but I have come to realize that there is more I can do. It’s good to correct people and tell them what to do in order to get back on track. But in view of my beliefs about tongues and power, is that really all I should do? No.

A person who is rebellious and useless is a waste of time, and you shouldn’t get caught up in their troubles, because they’ll take you away from people you can help, and you may interfere with suffering that will turn them to God. But a person who is willing to listen is another story. A certain amount of patience and help is justified, even for people whose main problem is their own character.

I have wealth. I have faith and knowledge. I am not having problems (not serious ones, anyway) forcing myself to pray. I’ve been praying in tongues consistently for years, so I’ve built up a lot of revelation and faith. These are things my friend and his family need. So while I still tell him to sit his butt down and pray, I should also make a serious daily effort to intercede for him and his family until he gets on his spiritual feet. I can’t do this for everyone I know, but the Spirit will tell me who to work on.

I have the same problems he has. I’m just handling them better at the moment. Because I’m prevailing against similar problems, I know the tools he needs. I share them with him.

The body of Christ is like an animal with many feet. When one foot is sore, the others take the weight off of it until it heals.

The Bible tells us a good man leaves an inheritance for his children’s children. I don’t have kids. My friend does. Ordinarily, I would be praying for my own children, but since I don’t have them, I can allot that prayer to my friend’s family.

God is like a river. The Bible tells us water pours from his presence. He expects us to be like him. We are supposed to flow as he does. It’s great when God gives me something helpful, but it’s not right for it to be dammed up in me so it doesn’t help anyone else. If I can’t pass anything on to others, I might as well die right now, because I serve no purpose.

Prayer is the most important thing we do. When your prayer life is strong, everything else works. If you’re praying a lot and getting no results, you are doing something wrong. It may mean you’re doing your own thing instead of serving God, in which case he may not listen. But praying properly will create success.

I told my friend about a few things that have helped me.

1. I try to keep peaceful Christian music going wherever I go. It seems to work like supernatural insect repellant. It’s very helpful for changing the atmosphere of a place. Satan bombards me constantly with his garbage. Half-naked women on billboards. Raucous music. Ignorant people who run their mouths and try to upset me. It troubles my spirit. I believe the music I play troubles the evil things that want to stay around me. I hope they suffer constantly, much more than I ever have.

2. I pray in tongues at least twice a day, for at least half an hour at a shot. And I pray in tongues here and there when I get the chance. This is more important than prayer in English. If I have to choose, I neglect praying in English and make sure I pray in tongues. If you only do it once a day, you’ll grow weak before the next session, and you will start to lose.

3. I repent of my iniquities out loud, so any spirits that are involved can hear it. Let’s say the iniquity is anxiety (which opposes faith, which is considered righteousness). I’ll say I reject it and repent of it, in the name of Jesus. I’ll say I send it back where it came from. I’ll say iniquity has no authority over me; by the blood of Jesus, I have authority over it. If you do this, the results will amaze you. The little stupid voices in your mind that trouble you will go quiet. You may have six or eight things to repent of. When you get done, you’ll have peace. This is extremely helpful if you can’t sleep. You will probably have to do this every day. Don’t expect one shot to last a lifetime.

4. Sometimes God gives me phrases that have surprising power. The latest one is “It’s not important.” I’ll have a thought or a feeling or compulsion I don’t want, and I’ll feel that it’s interfering with my relationship with God. Then I’ll say or think, “It’s not important.” And it goes away. I can’t explain it. I don’t know if this particular phrase will help you, but I know God will reveal similar tools to you if you pray in tongues daily. Satan counterfeits God’s tools. These phrases remind me of the Satanic mantras heathens use in meditation. Those words are said to open the mind to demons. The words God gives me shuts the door.

Don’t worry about giving large, unaffordable amounts of money to preachers. Give what the Spirit tells you to give, and let it go. If you need money, pick an amount and ask God for it until you get it. This isn’t what you should be concerned about. Be concerned about prayer and transformation. Spend your faith. Send it back to God. You’ll get the manyfold return the Bible promises, and it will be in the form of children of the spirit. It will be other people who have been changed by what you do. They will go on and do what you do, and more, whether you continue or not.

This is the best stuff I can give you. Run with it.

SIR! YES, SIR!

Life cannot get any weirder.

At this minute, unless something has changed, my sister is being tried for two felonies. I decided not to go, because I was up late talking on the phone, and I wanted to sleep late. I guess that shows how concerned I am. But it would not make sense to get more agitated than the defendant herself. That would be typical enabler thinking. Addicts screw up other people’s lives. It’s smart to insulate yourself. It’s very easy to end up brainwashed by the addict, thinking their problems are your problems. Once that happens, you become an extension of the addict. A miserable slave. Forget that. She’ll be convicted or she won’t. My presence won’t make any difference.

God keeps showing me how important prayer (especially prayer in tongues) is. Doing without it is worse than doing without food. A prayer session is like a meal, and you need several every day. Some of the benefits wear off, and then you will find that things start going wrong. Anxiety can set in. So can anger. Whatever your iniquity is, it will try to creep back in. Prayer is like pest control. It requires regular applications.

I have to pray as soon as I wake up, and I have to pray in the middle of the day. It’s best if I get a third session in later, but the first two are really essential.

Today I was distracted by something when I awoke, and I didn’t pray immediately. Later on I noticed I didn’t have the peace and confidence (in God) I usually have. I sat my behind down and prayed in tongues for thirty minutes. At the end I was a different person. Things were so much better. The power was behind me again, propelling me forward.

Over the last week, God has kept reminding me to pray in the middle of the day, and things have started to break loose. The more you pray in tongues, the more miraculous things happen to you. I wrote about this on Friday. Crazy stuff happened while I was dealing with my dad and my sister. Since then more things have happened.

I can’t stand Miami, as I have often said. It’s a godless, stupid city. The traffic is awful. The people are nasty. The ocean used to provide some relief, but I no longer have any desire to fish or fool with boats. I want out. I want to hear English once in a while. I want to live among reasonably polite people. I don’t want to live in a place where it takes half an hour to drive ten miles.

I want a tractor. If I have a tractor when I die, I will consider myself fulfilled.

I thought I might move to Ocala, but lately, the panhandle has started to look good. I have some friends up there, from blogging and Facebook. One friend in particular has had an impact on my life. I’ll call him “Floyd.” Some readers may figure out who he is. He was involved in a church where the Spirit was quenched, and I got him going on tongues, and his life changed. Now a bunch of people he knows are watching my church’s services while “attending” their church.

Anyway, I wondered what I would do for a living up there. I have asked God to provide me with income. Sooner or later I may need it. I would really like to live off royalties from creative endeavors, but I do have a law license. I was talking to Floyd this weekend, and he started asking if I knew anything about a certain area of law. It turns out he may have some legal business to farm out over the next year or so, and while I could do it here, it would certainly be helpful if I could move to the panhandle.

Gee, that would be awful!

I can’t give any details, but it would be a big help to get this work. I keep asking God to lure me to a new location. I don’t want to be driven by misfortune. I want to be attracted by opportunity. Now it looks like God has given me what I asked for.

I wish I could say more, because the testimony is even better than I have made it sound.

I keep asking God to make the work of my hands, talents, and mind relatively slight, so I will have time to serve him and be with him, and so he will get most of the glory. That appears to be panning out. If I got this work, I would be able to maintain a highly satisfactory lifestyle without working a 40-hour week. I am not greedy; I don’t have to max out my earning potential in order to be happy.

I feel that God has forced a surprising degree of passivity on me. For a long time, I’ve believed that God wants to show us what he will do, not what we can do. He hates the motivational crap we hear from preachers. They tell us to get up and work hard. That message is not found in the Bible. You’re not supposed to be lazy, but you are not supposed to mistake yourself for your own provider. Moses was cursed for working too hard. He struck a rock to get water to emerge, instead of speaking to it (Numbers 20), and he deprived God of the glory he should have received for sending the water out supernaturally. God gave the Jews the Sabbath and deprived them of one seventh of their workweek. That ought to tell us how he feels about hard work.

There are so many other examples in the Bible. The Hebrews brought Jericho down by walking and hollering. They weren’t allowed to attack. Altars had to be built from rocks that hadn’t been shaped with tools. Samson couldn’t defend himself with his own strength, but when the Spirit was on him, he killed a thousand men with a donkey bone. The Hebrews fleeing Egypt were armed, but God didn’t let them fight; he drowned Pharaoh’s army while they watched.

My life verse is Zechariah 4:6:

Then he answered and spake unto me, saying, This is the word of the Lord unto Zerubbabel, saying, Not by might, nor by power, but by my spirit, saith the Lord of hosts.

That sounds, and is, wonderful. It means God does most of our work for us. But it carries a strange burden. Sometimes I have to sit by and commune with God when I want to get up and do something in my own strength. That’s sort of embarrassing. A man wants to accomplish things. It’s not natural to have to rest while things are given to me. I feel like Private Pyle, eating his doughnut while the rest of the platoon does pushups.

Hey, I’ll take it. I would rather be an heir to unlimited wealth and power than get by on my own limited abilities. The humility is a little hard to swallow, but it, too, is a blessing.

Your life will change if you pray in tongues regularly. Samson’s hair grew over time, and when it was grown in, it gave him tremendous power. The kingdom of God inside you works the same way. It starts as a tiny seed, and you water it with prayer in tongues, and eventually, it becomes a safe refuge. A fortress bristling with weapons. It might take a year. Maybe you’re teachable, and it will only take a month or two. But it does work.

Psalm 34:7

My testimony continues. If you don’t have a testimony, you’re doing something wrong.

Last month my dad fell while trying to get off his boat. The boat is docked, and there is a ladder attached to the dock. He had to step on a stool, then onto the gunwale, and then onto the ladder. He had things in his hands because he hates making more than one trip. He reached for the ladder and missed, and he fell backward onto the fiberglass deck. At the time, he didn’t seem to be injured seriously, but two days later, I had to help him to his SUV and drive him to the emergency room. He spent a night in the hospital.

He had a compression fracture in his lowest lumbar vertebra, and it became extremely painful after the accident. He couldn’t move around, and when I tried to help him by pulling on his arms and legs, the pain was too much for him to take.

They wanted to operate, but he argued with them, so they sent him home, and I looked after him. At first it was very hard, because he would not listen. At one point he fell off his bed, and he insisted I try to pick him up for over an hour. Eventually, I had to get the EMTs to come and do it.

South Miami Hospital did a very poor job. They didn’t bathe him. They sent him home without arranging for care. They didn’t even tell him a caregiver was needed. We got on the phone to his regular doctor, who immediately prescribed a CNA (nursing assistant), a hospital bed, a bedside commode, therapy, and other stuff I can’t recall.

Problem: the doctor told Catalano (the caregiver company) all this stuff on a Wednesday, but they didn’t finish making arrangements until Friday, so we didn’t see a caregiver until that day. They took so long to order the bed and commode, I canceled the orders. Walgreen’s sells commodes, and the bed would have taken so long to arrive, it would have been pointless to accept it.

At first, I specified male caregivers, because he weighed about 250 pounds, and I didn’t want them to send someone who couldn’t move him. They sent a very competent guy who wanted to show me photos of his antiques. Then they sent a guy who showed up an hour and a half late and left 45 minutes early.

I told God I did not want any non-Christian caregivers. I asked him to send only Christians. The next time I ordered a CNA, they could not find a male. I told them my dad was now able to move a little, so a woman would be fine. They sent Adriana, who came every day until he no longer needed help.

Adriana was wonderful. She spoke almost no English (I insisted on fluent English, but in Miami, this is a waste of breath), but she was efficient and patient, she had a great attitude, and she enabled me to get things done instead of hovering in the house. Until she showed up, I could not keep up with things. My own responsibilities and desires were forgotten, and I only managed to cover about 90% of what I needed to do for my dad.

The patient’s attitude was not good, which did not come as a shock. He was grouchy. He felt I was not doing enough for him, even though I was doing everything that could be done in a 24-hour day. I decided to start playing soaking music in the house.

As regular readers know, soaking music is calm music played by Spirit-filled artists, intended to put people in touch with the Holy Spirit. I made myself a ten-hour DVD and played it continuously. Suddenly, the house was peaceful. The grouchiness decreased greatly. It was easier to get things done and keep things clean and orderly. My dad didn’t like the music, but I left it on. Some people find the Holy Spirit annoying.

I noticed something about Adriana. She had that Christian air about her. One Sunday when I said I was leaving for church, she got excited and told me to pray for my dad and for her.

At times he complained that she got on her nerves. I wondered why. Then one morning I saw a Bible on her chair. She had been reading it next to his bed.

My church has a relationship with a big Spanish church called El Rey Jesus, which is pastored by a man named Guillermo Maldonado. It’s in the southwest part of the county. This lady lived in Homestead, which is also down south. I wondered.

One day in the kitchen, I asked her who her pastor was. Sure enough, it was Maldonado. Amazing.

For two weeks, she stayed in that room, hammering him with evangelism. I could not get away with that, but he tolerated it from her. She never let up. It was wonderful. I didn’t have to do a thing. Now she’s gone, but he has all that talk in his mind. It’s not going to go away.

Now I try to keep soaking music going wherever I am. I even play it in my bedroom when I’m not there. Perry Stone says he often stays in hotels, which are used for all sorts of sinful things, and he plays Christian music in the rooms, even when he’s not around. It changes things. I am here to testify that it works. One day I left the garage access door open while this stuff was playing, and later that day, I felt compelled to go in there and clean up the mess. It was different in there.

I am also praying in tongues more. I have come to the conclusion that it’s like eating. You have to do it several times a day. I almost always get it done in the morning, but I have let it get by me in the afternoons, and that’s when other people start to get the victory over me. Tension arises. I begin to feel frustrated. It’s like becoming hypoglycemic when you don’t eat. Now I take time to feed my spirit at least twice a day, and it’s really paying off.

Fred Stone has said that the only way for Christians to thrive in the future will be through “excessive” prayer in tongues. He’s right. Pretty soon the charismatics who aren’t doing it are going to start siding with the homosexuals. When the GPS is turned off, there is no road that won’t seem right to you.

My dad is making spiritual progress. Will he accept Jesus? I can’t say. But he will have every advantage. That’s the best God can do. It’s all I can ask for.

He is coming up on the end of his life. He is 81 years old, and he has the genes for longevity, but he isn’t taking care of himself. He is becoming more forgetful. I have to explain things to him more often. His older sister now suffers from dementia. I think the accident was God’s way of nudging him. He isn’t going to be around forever, and while he’s here, if he doesn’t get right with God, he’s going to be increasingly dependent on other people, and he will cede a lot of his authority. Hopefully, he will bend and get supernatural power going in his life, so God can sustain him and help him remain vigorous and capable.

My sister’s trial comes up again tomorrow, and I think it will actually take place. She can’t put it off a fourth time. Unless the cop she is accused of running down has mercy on her, she’s looking at a minimum of three years in the pen, with no possibility of time off. Not my problem. I don’t worry about it one bit. It doesn’t trouble me; I forget about it for days on end, apart from the time I spend praying. I pray for God to help her change, but I’m not immersing myself in her mess. She serves evil spirits, and if I serve her, then I serve them. That will not happen. God put me here to be the head, not the tail. He also wrote, “Thou shalt worship the Lord thy God, and him only shalt thou serve.” If you’re an enabler, you serve the devil. That’s the bare truth.

They feed people in prison. They clothe them and give them medical care. They let Christians come and teach them and pray for them. That’s good enough. It’s a big step up from her current lifestyle.

This week she tried to get me to drive her around so she could look for a new place. She was nasty and imperious about it. She has ruined the house my dad helped her buy, and he is buying her out. She has to leave. She claimed she couldn’t travel to find a place. I told her I knew good hardworking people who rode the bus every day, and that it was good enough for her. At one point, she started telling me I was going to have to change my tone, but I didn’t hear anything after that, because I hung up instantly.

My dad argued with me, saying I should do it for him. This is how enablers always talk. The addict says, “Serve me,” and the enabler says, “don’t do it for her; do it for me.” It’s the same thing. It permits an addict to enslave several people, in addition to herself. I told him there was no way I was going to do her work for her or drive her around. It makes him angry. Again, not my problem. Go ahead and be mad. That’s on you.

Yesterday we had to meet with her twice to get things signed. This was after I assured him she was capable of riding a bus. The first time, when I called her, guess where she was? A bus stop two miles from her house. She had been buying groceries. We picked her up there. Thank you, God. I didn’t have to argue with my dad. The evidence was right in front of him. The second time, we went to her house. This was after she cashed a check supposedly intended to pay for moving expenses. While we were there, she rolled up in a cab. She had taken a taxi to buy a Five Guys hamburger.

Too perfect. I keep asking God to cause spirits and people (especially my enemies) to do my work for me, so he will be glorified and I won’t be too busy to spend time with him. Look how he answers. My sister convicted herself. Twice.

I am not an enabler. I have done it in the past, in ignorance. I don’t do it any more. I make people angry. I am told I am selfish. Don’t care. If you are determined to die, I will let you do it, just like God, who will let you go to hell. I will never stop praying for you, but I will not get my hands dirty unless I have a good reason. My attitude about this is correct. I have peace.

I’m hoping to get out of Coral Gables very soon. Now that my dad can sit in a car, I am planning to drive to Pensacola and look at homes. I was going to move without him, but he wouldn’t have it, so we’re both going. That will be great. I can’t stand this place. My church is wonderful, and I love my friends, but there is no other bright spot to living in Miami. The people are nasty and godless. The traffic is horrible. I am leaving.

Keep praying in tongues every day. Think of it as having meals. Your life will change. You will end up on top sooner or later.

Beats Bobbing for Apples in the Sewer

I keep praying for God to cause the Holy Spirit to take over my church’s services, and he keeps doing it. I feel like I owe an apology to the minister who has been trying to speak for the last two weeks.

Last night we got into praise and worship, and the first thing you know, a new lady who moved to New Dawn from El Rey Jesus started prophesying and praying for healing. After a while, a whole bunch of people went up to the front, and we had a prolonged outpouring of prayer, and a whole bunch of people got baptized with the Holy Spirit.

This has been happening a lot lately. It happened on Sunday, and while adults and teenagers were up at the front crying and praying, I noticed the eight-year-old daughter of my friend Alonzo, all by herself. Her name is Ayanna. I prayed for her, and then I noticed that my friend Brenda was available, so I pointed her in Ayanna’s direction, and I took this picture.

I put it on Facebook, and Brenda left this comment:

Steve – you don’t know how this pic has impacted me – as I prayed for her I felt The Lord lead me back to my callin of workin with children which I haven’t done in almost 5 years … Breathtaking …

Of course, I didn’t know what I was doing.

Ayanna is a wonderful kid, like all of Alonzo’s children. This one–Gabriella–is my goddaughter:

I thought it was great that Ayanna went up without being pushed. We have kids do that all the time.

Alonzo and Brenda are like me. They are refugees from Trinity Church. Brenda was not accepted by the Inner Circle, even though her husband Tracey was in charge of the armorbearers. At New Dawn, Tracey and Brenda play huge roles, and they are blossoming.

Last night another refugee family blessed us. I have a friend named Eric, and he’s a former Trinity armorbearer. We got him to visit New Dawn a few times, but he was loyal to Trinity, so it took him a long time to do what he needed to do. Eventually, the starvation at Trinity got to him and his wife, and they made the move.

He has a stepdaughter named Danielle. While they were attending Trinity, she was miserable. She did not like church. She didn’t attend much. She suffered from depression and anxiety. People didn’t know it, but her life was hell. Even after they moved to New Dawn, she was not happy.

Recently, she went to the front, and our pastor prophesied over her, and one day she went up to receive the baptism with the Holy Spirit. These things are not unusual at our church, so we didn’t get all that excited.

Last night our pastor asked her to come up and talk about her experiences. I figured she would go up and say, “I love Jesus. Things are getting a lot better. Thank you.” Was I wrong! She started telling us what had happened to her, and she practically tore the roof off the place!

She must have preached for half an hour. I’ve never seen anything like it. It was the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen at church. She told about the problems she had had. Suicide attempts. Insomnia. Prolonged crying sessions at home, while her family was in church. Then she told us how God had changed all that. Suddenly she understood what God could do, and how much he loved us.

She called us out for being lukewarm. She said there were people who raised their hands in church and then went home to porn and drugs. She said God couldn’t work in our lives if we didn’t give ourselves to him. She called up the lady who prayed for healing and started prophesying over her, telling her that her husband was going to grow and change. Her boldness was shocking. She kept saying, “This isn’t me!”

We were all completely freaked out. Everything she said was right and true. Three months ago, she wouldn’t have known what to say, but last night, she did a better job than anyone you’ve seen on TBN or Daystar. I asked her mother what she had been feeding her.

We didn’t get out until after 11:00.

Another young girl had an encounter with the Holy Spirit, but she was too overcome to speak. Even after the service, she was in a back room groaning while one of the women looked after her. This young lady comes from a very messed up family, and God has done wonderful things for them. She’s only 18, but she has been in college for quite some time, and she competes in pageants in order to support herself. Her sister raised her. Now her sister is receiving the harvest.

What’s going to happen next? God has infinite depth. He always has something better in store. How much better can it get?

I lit into Trinity last night. I wrote this:

People get mad at me when I criticize Trinity Church. They say I’m bitter or unforgiving. That’s what they WANT to think.

I’m not a totally pure soul; I can’t say I never felt any bitterness or unforgiveness over the bad treatment I received. But that’s insignificant, and it would not drive me to comment. THIS PHOTO shows why I speak up. I have friends who are still being harmed.

This young lady’s family went to Trinity. She was miserable. She did not know God. She did not like going to church. A while back, she got baptized with the Holy Spirit at New Dawn Ministries, and tonight they called her up to testify.

It was the most amazing thing I have ever seen at church. Nobody saw it coming. She tore the place up. She operated in the spiritual gifts of faith, prophecy, and the word of knowledge. She preached perfect doctrine. She called people up and spoke God’s words over them. She corrected our lukewarmness and hypocrisy. I have never seen anything like it. It changed lives.

How many of my friends at Trinity would be doing this, if someone had told them about the Holy Spirit instead of filling them with motivational garbage or Steve Munsey’s laughable lies about money? How many kids there have committed suicide, gone to prison, or sold themselves into prostitution because no one felt they were worth introducing to the Holy Spirit?

This young woman is like a bomb that went off when the Holy Spirit lit the fuse. We have no idea what a person’s potential is, until that person receives the baptism with the Holy Spirit and becomes transformed. How many bombs has Trinity Church disarmed?

NEVER tell me not to open my mouth. Never again. If there is one child over there whose spiritual life has been aborted, then I am obligated to speak up, and nobody but God himself has the right to say one word to me.

Anyone who wants to be baptized with the Spirit is welcome at our services. I will personally pray for you, and we don’t care if you give us money or not.

What if this girl’s parents had stayed at Trinity? That church has a big homosexuality problem among the youth. There are kids using drugs and getting in trouble with the law. Where is their hope? Trinity gives nothing and takes as much as it can. They pour people full of lies about God the ATM Machine, and they teach useless motivational techniques which only work as long as Satan permits. They underpay people. They brainwash them into thinking God will be angry if they disagree with anything the leaders do. That place is full of death, because they sacrifice new generations in order to feed the pastor’s family.

And they’re never going to get what they’re trying to buy. They will never have a big TV ministry. They don’t have the talent or even a good gimmick. They will always be stuck in the local church, feeding off the flock. People like Joel Osteen and Steve Munsey will remain at the top of the Ponzi pyramid, and the folks from Trinity will stay on a lower level. They keep their congregants on the bottom, and the Osteens and Munseys and Crafts do the same thing to them.

Satan never gives you what he promises.

Before I left, I told them they needed to put the Holy Spirit first, instead of whoring out to fill seats. I said it would draw people to the church. They wouldn’t listen, so I left without hesitation. I told my new pastor the same thing, and he listened. Now we’re full on Tuesday nights, and we had to rearrange the seats in order to accommodate bigger crowds. God is in the process of providing a bigger building, which, unlike the one at Trinity, will not have a mortgage.

Am I saying we’re going to be a megachurch? God forbid. I’ve had enough of that idiocy. I’m just saying we’ll be able to sit down in comfort and peace.

I can’t even guess what I’ll be telling you a month from now, but I know it will be good.

Keep praying in the Spirit. Play soaking music in your home and workplace. Get away from the greedy and the stupid. God will bring you a harvest of peace and rest.

Don’t Get Left Behind

My sister is supposed to be tried today. I don’t know what’s going on. I haven’t had any contact with her for a week or two, and when we spoke, it was about getting her out of the house where she lives so the ownership can change and it can be prepared for renters.

It may seem odd to stay home when your sister is facing three to thirty years (by my reading of the statutes), but I got tired of showing up only to learn that she had obtained continuances or simply chosen not to go. If she can’t be bothered to show up, I don’t see why I should be there. The stress of this situation was never intended for me. I sleep soundly, and I forget about this mess for days on end, except during my daily prayers.

I have no idea what’s going to happen. Excuse me if I repeat facts here. I believe she faces two mandatory minimums: three and five years. I have no doubt that she is guilty of the charge that carries the three-year minimum, and the evidence is overwhelming. But the courts are designed to let people go. Nothing is certain.

The victim was a police officer, and it’s my understanding that in such cases, the state does not like to offer pleas. It depends on whether the officer allows the prosecutor to show leniency, and generally, they will not do that.

I think six months would do her a world of good. If she comes home this week with the charges dismissed, it will teach her that she can get away with anything, and that will be the end of her.

I’m glad they didn’t ask me to testify. The things I know could only affect her negatively.

My church continues to explode with supernatural power. God keeps doing the things I ask him to do for the church; so much so that I took my pastor aside and gave him a list of all the things I had prayed for. These things will start happening, and it’s better to talk about them in advance. Anyone can predict the past.

I have been asking God to cause the Holy Spirit to take over the services, and it happens almost every time. The speakers don’t get to present the material they’ve prepared, because the Holy Spirit starts manifesting. We baptize people with the Holy Spirit, we pray, we enter into God’s presence, and we get prophesy and healings.

I think it’s mildly frustrating to the pastors, but they’re all for it, regardless. At my old church, the Holy Spirit was not welcome, and they scheduled things down to intervals of several minutes, but at New Dawn, we never know what’s going to happen.

I have been hearing from my friend Ward regularly. His spiritual life has really blossomed, and he has been counseling my pastor and me. He has felt concern that an undue respect for titles could cause problems. We talked about it last night, and I saw that this related to my prayers.

I keep asking God to bring godly people into the church, and to promote people into the positions they should occupy, and it has been happening. Unlike the territorial pastor at my old church, my pastor is not selfish or clannish, and he is glad to put new people before the church. We have new members prophesying and praying all the time. On Tuesday, a lady named Chachy got up and prayed and prophesied, and a woman with a neck problem was healed. God touched my knee, which is a little hinky, and made an improvement. We are also getting prophecy from a young man named Danny, who used to be a gang member.

That’s great, but talking to Ward, I realized there was a down side. I have also asked God to remove the people who hinder him, and to demote them. It’s very pleasant when he promotes new people, but now I know he’s going to cause the unproductive to fade. And it may be that people who have titles and respect are going to be overshadowed and even replaced. That’s great for the kingdom of heaven, but it may strain relationships.

Sometimes the people who have titles and authority don’t do what they should. We have Biblical examples like Eli and Annas and Caiphas, to name but three. When that happens, God anoints someone new, and the person who doesn’t listen has to move into the background. A title isn’t an anointing. An anointing is God’s authority. His permission and approval. When you stop following his will, you lose the anointing, even if you retain your title and your gifts.

A few people who seemed solid have left the church. It may also be that some folks who are still active have forgotten their first love. It may be that they have become less passionate about the supernatural, and about advancing God’s kingdom. Maybe they’re not praying in the Spirit at home, to the extent that they should. Maybe they still show up and speak before us, but the fire and revelation aren’t there. Those that don’t get in line with God’s will are going to be pushed into the background, because he listens to those who pray for his order.

Ward did a study of Eli recently, and it appears that it may have prepared him to counsel us in this season.

It’s a funny time. I may be leaving Miami soon; things are lining up. My sister’s problems will be resolved one way or the other. The house she lives in will be in my dad’s name or my name. Right now, she and my dad are joint tenants, and it has been a terrible headache and snare. Once that’s done, things will break loose. We’ll be able to rent it out and move on.

Keep praying in tongues every day. It continues to pay off. It’s not just “evidence.” It’s God’s umbilical cord. All the things that are happening in my life and in my church are happening because of tongues. If you want it, it’s yours. Just move your lips.

More

Looks like they’ve reset the trial for 8/19.

Let the Dead Bury Themselves

People have asked about my family. I believe my father is getting closer to accepting Jesus. My sister got angry about me mentioning her here, and I stopped.

It looks like God healed her of lung cancer, but now she’s in trouble with the law. Two weeks from today, unless she can get it put off again, she will be tried for battery on a law enforcement officer and felony fleeing and eluding. This relates to an incident in August of 2011, in which she was pulled over and decided to run. The police say she hit an officer with her car, and that he had to go to the hospital. I don’t know a whole lot about it. I haven’t seen the evidence. She doesn’t want me involved.

When it happened, I looked up the statutes by number, and she was looking at a 5-year minimum for the battery, plus a three-year minimum for the fleeing and eluding. The maximum, assuming consecutive sentences, would be 30 years. I doubt they would give her that much time. I think they save that kind of time for people who are in shootouts and so on. But I don’t really know.

They put her in a year-long deferral program, and she could have walked at the end, but she didn’t complete it, so now they’re going to try her. I don’t know if she’ll get a plea or reduced charges, but it’s my understanding that when you batter a cop, you can forget about those options, unless the cop agrees to it. The authorities take crimes against government employees much more seriously than crimes committed against ordinary people.

I don’t pray for her to be acquitted. I’m afraid that would destroy her. I do pray for God to soften her heart and give revelation and help her change.

Free will is a double-edged sword. It gives us freedom, but it also prevents us from controlling other people when they screw up. You can’t get salvation for your relatives. They have to agree to it, themselves. And you can’t make them go forward in the kingdom of God. We tend to judge people based on how their loved ones turn out, and there is some justification for that, but like I always say, God raised Satan. Look at the results. You can’t blame God for that.

I have come to realize that there is no limit to the depth of depravity or self-deception.

Today I was praying for God to be bold and to do very obvious things in my life, and then I wondered if that was realistic, because God always leaves room for disbelief. Then I realized that disbelief doesn’t depend on what is observed. It depends on the observer. People watched Jesus work miracles and then turned their backs on him. If he appeared right now on national TV and healed every sick person on earth, a big percentage of people would come up with an alternative explanation. Most of the Hebrews turned against him after the large-scale works he did in Egypt and in the desert. So no, I don’t think it’s wrong to ask God to do obvious works. These things will not force anyone to believe. They will not violate free will.

I’m not asking for signs. I’m asking for God to do these things in order to crush the enemy’s kingdom and extend his own, and to bless the people he wants to bless. If the things he does also function as signs, it’s incidental.

God has shown my sister his power. Either she’ll give in and listen, or she won’t. I’m not going to fret over it. I was put on this earth to have peace, love, and joy. I’m not going to get sucked into a spiritual black hole, destroying my own shalom in order to try to force shalom on someone. Maybe that sounds heartless, but I worship a God who loves, yet who casts people into hell, and I don’t have to try to be better than he is.

I have come across so many people I can bless; God puts me in contact with people who will listen and change. If I sit at the doorstep of a rebellious person and plead and pray and allow myself to be abused, I’ll be taking energy away from the people who will listen. Jesus told us not to do that. He told us to go after the lost sheep, but he didn’t tell us to go after the sheep that cannot be persuaded. He himself abandoned cities after they rejected him. The Bible says God’s love endures forever, but it doesn’t say that about his patience. Sooner or later, he wants to wrap things up, and that means he’s not going to let the rebellious delay things eternally.

Today I was thinking about the word “father,” and I realized that in God’s eyes, you aren’t a person’s child unless you resemble him. God created man, yet he called rebellious Jews “sons of Satan.” So who is my father? Who are my brothers and sisters? Do I just look at DNA? No. My real relatives are in the church. Jesus said that if we gave up relatives for him, he would give us new ones in this life and in the life to come. I hope the person I refer to as “my sister” comes around, but there are people God himself reckons to be my brothers and sisters, and I can’t shortchange them by getting overly caught up in the self-inflicted problems of a biological relation.

On Second Thought, You Can Keep It

Something I wrote this morning:

Last night I dreamed of some very strange events, and this morning, I asked God if it meant anything. I think he has given me the answer, and I will try to present it here in a brief form that doesn’t take up a lot of room.

I was in the home of my late aunt, who died from lung cancer. She used to smoke unfiltered Pall Malls, and she refused to quit. She told my father it was the only thing in life that gave her pleasure.

For some reason, I went to her house to do laundry. I approached the machine with my clothes in a bag, thinking I was ready to go, but there was a mixed-race lady by the machine, and she took the bag and started sorting. I wasn’t ready at all. I had a wool jacket in the bag, and the whites and colors were mixed. She set the jacket aside, saving me the huge expense of replacing it after ruining it in a washing machine, and she put the other stuff in separate piles.

I looked in the washer, and I saw a puppy inside it. At least, I thought it was a puppy. It had black skin. It wasn’t like the brown skin of people we call “black.” It had no color at all. It was like a piece of seasoned cast iron. It was dusted with ash. It had holes where its eyes should have been, and it had a crooked, gaping mouth. Blue-white light came out of its mouth and eyes. I don’t know where it got that light. Maybe it had been stolen from God.

I thought it was cute, which is bizarre. There was nothing cute about it. While the woman was helping me with my laundry, I tried to take a photo of it and post it to Facebook, but the photos didn’t come out well, and it didn’t look cute at all.

After I woke up, I asked God if the dream meant anything, and here is what I came up with.

I believe the washing machine symbolizes my efforts to get clean; to get free of iniquities, which are the inclinations which cause me to sin. The “puppy” is a demon which is behind one of my iniquities. I thought it was cute, so it has to be an iniquity I hold onto deliberately, thinking it’s harmless or even beneficial. This iniquity doesn’t cause me a great deal of suffering, so I don’t think it matters, and I don’t fight it. As a result, this creature stays with me, and it can hold the door open for other demons, which are worse.

Jesus told us we have demons. He said that when a demon leaves a man, it walks in dry places and then returns, and when it returns, it brings seven demons worse than itself. On the other hand, if we receive the baptism with the Holy Spirit, then God himself inhabits us. And the Bible says the Holy Spirit has seven parts.

I think the thing I saw may represent gluttony. I have a very negative attitude toward gluttony, but it may be that the jokes I make concerning it have made it feel welcome. Gluttony, by itself, is not going to ruin my life. But what if it holds the door open so I can’t get rid of bigger problems? What if I am inadvertently giving these things power?

There are many inquities Christians think are cute or harmless. Gluttony, gossip, laziness, denying our spouses sex, bearing false witness, verbal cruelty, and so on. Maybe they’re not so cute after all. Maybe we need to voice our opposition to them openly, because the spirits that drive these things can’t hear us when we say things in our minds.

A nail enters a board in a very small way. The tip of the nail is sharp, and it doesn’t do much damage at all. But it enables the rest of the nail to enter easily.

If we want to hear the voice of God, we have to quiet the other voices.

Gluttony killed my aunt. She was a glutton for tobacco smoke.

To be On Your Own

Well, my latest kidney stone just BLEW OUT. WHOO HOOOOOOO.

I’m so happy, I can’t stand it. I was thinking about things like lithotripsy and claw machines that go up the you-know-what, and now I can forget about all that crap.

I was reading about the lemon-juice-and-olive-oil cure, and I saw something interesting. Some guy said he peed REALLY HARD, and his stone popped out. That got me thinking.

Also, a Facebook friend told me his doctor prescribed beer for kidney stones, and I looked it up, and it turned out he was right. Not only does beer make you pee; it opens up the tubes so the stone has more room to move.

I put these bits of info together, and today I hogged down a couple of Sierra Nevada Pale Ales plus a sizeable quantity of weak limeade, and I went into the can and, well, let’s just say I EXERTED MYSELF. Think industrial waterjet.

I don’t want to go into more disgusting detail than I already have, but I will say that I actually heard a “clank” when it landed in the bottom of the ridiculous cup I have to pee in.

Had to. Pee in.

What a relief. I’m not going to have to pay some quack to shove earth-moving equipment up my urinary tract.

I learned a few things, which I’ll “pass” on. For other people who have calcium stones.

1. You should take potassium citrate every day, regardless of whether you currently have a stone. I ran out, and like three weeks later, I was making masonry in my ureters. This is what I get for being too lazy to buy more.

2. You should drink a glass of lemonade or some lemon juice every day. Citrate.

3. If you get a stone, make your doctor give you a prescription for Flomax. Like beer, it opens up the tubes and makes the stones move.

4. Try chanca piedra. It’s an herb that supposedly prevents stones from forming and helps new ones break up and pass. It has no side effects, so what the hell. Try it.

5. Drink a lot of water. Not Coral Gables water, which is packed with limestone dust (calcium). Normal water.

6. Do NOT drink green tea. I can’t believe I fell for those articles saying green tea prevents stones. I read one more closely, and it doesn’t really say the tea prevents stones. It says the type of oxalate found in green tea makes WEAKER stones. COME ON. How is “weaker” better than “none”? Doctors are so stupid. I’m sorry. They really are.

Man, I have to pee. Be right back.

Whew.

7. There are a lot of people out there who swear by the “cure.” Mix one ounce of lemon juice and one ounce of olive oil, and drink it. Twice a day. I doubt the olive oil does anything, but again, what the hell.

8. Some guy on the web claims antibiotics help him pass stones in a hurry. He thinks they reduce inflammation, which makes the tubes open up. He has had lots of stones, so he may be right.

I’m going back on the potassium citrate, and I’m giving up green tea. This is just too much aggravation. I don’t care if it cures cancer. It’s not worth it.

Before I got all religioius, I had the alcohol tolerance of a brontosaurus. Those days are gone. I’ve had two beers, and I’m practically hallucinating. Hey. I’ll deal with it. The stone is gone, so I can live with the trivial sacrifices I’ve been required to make.

At church today, at the leaders’ prayer, my friends hit this thing pretty hard, and God clearly listened. The glory is his.

Hope this info is helpful to other people whose bodies insist on turning iced tea into cobblestones.