God Reveals that He Is Present, Listening and Active! He Will Speak to You If You Want Him To.

From an early age I began to pick up the messages, "You're stupid. You're bad. You're guilty," which inwardly translated to "You should be ashamed. Something is wrong with you." As I recall, it started with sibling rivalry in which my sensitivities were used against me by a brother or sister to get the upper hand. As a teen, my anxious behaviors drew negative attention from a teacher who called me a "such a flighty bird," even though I proved myself capable in academics. The negative self-image took root, and I attracted and allowed into my life friends who often preferred to criticize me rather than give compliments, and then a "significant other" who for years kept me "in my place" with words such as "stupid" and "uncoordinated," comments which I now know were absolutely incorrect and coming from a place of insecurity in the boyfriend. However, as human nature goes, I found myself echoing the destructive phrases and so my life went, for decades.

Our words are powerful and frequently become self-fulfilling prophecies. I often hid knowledge that I had just so I could let other people feel superior in intelligence, and so, the image only became stronger in my efforts to fit in. I was insecure about making decisions that affected my companions, even, for example, which run to take on a ski hill. I did not want to be blamed for making a mistake and risk having others upset or disappointed with me. This way of processing thoughts has numerous ramifications when you think about it. It can be exhausting and sometimes boring, which can also be exhausting as one waits patiently, letting someone else always be the expert on every topic, even if it is old news. Then, being the quiet one, you can appear to have no opinion or knowledge (because having them proved to be costly) a stance which gains acceptance in some ways, but also disrespect. It attracts and perpetuates unhealthy, unsatisfying relationships. What a trap! But I got out! With a lot of help from God and good friends.

In my early twenties I started to look to God, but for a long time in ignorance, I was just following religious formulas. I don't remember contemplating Heaven--just wanting to make sure I didn't end up in Hell. Heaven always sounded too good to be true, but Hell sounded too bad to be ignored. So, I went through the motions, not realizing there was so much more to experience in the supernatural without messing around in destructive and dangerous, dark spiritual practices.

My life wasn't a total loss; I had my successes along the way, and God had clearly revealed himself to me at least twice and awakened me spiritually, but feelings of failure and dissatisfaction still haunted me, and, in my late thirties, I began to search more diligently for a true and living God who would show his power. Living in Vancouver at the time, I was led in my quest to "revival" meetings in Abbotsford where God did indeed seem to be showing up in power and affecting people's lives. They were certainly experiencing something I had never seen before in a church setting: a lot of joy and excitement going on! I watched my best friend of that time get some kind of inner healing spiritual touch and fall over sideways on her chair, laughing so hard with eyes and nose running. I, however, felt nothing special and somewhat left out. All these things I am telling to explain how deeply ingrained my low sense of self was and how I needed something significant to pull me out.

So, there I was amidst all the wonderful, crazy action and exultation and still feeling like the good stuff was never for me to enjoy. A small group of us drove out from Vancouver for meeting after meeting, and I just wasn't receiving any of it. But I didn't want to give up. Again and again, I would hear altar calls. "We want to pray for people who...blah, blah, blah. I believe I have a word from the Lord for someone about...blah, blah, blah." It never quite seemed to be for me specifically, and I so badly wanted to experience the goodness of God in this way, but I couldn't decide if I should go up or not!

Sometimes I would stay with my friend (who always seemed to get something from God!!) at her parents' house closer to Abbotsford for a morning meeting. It was on one of those occasions that God finally broke through. I was getting my morning coffee and returning the cream to the fridge. As I attempted to replace it on a shelf, I bumped an edge and the carton fell to the floor and spilled. I was so angry at myself!! "There you go again! Stupid! Clumsy! Failure! Why did you have to be the one to do that?" But I quickly cleaned up and soon we were in another church meeting.

By this point, I had made a decision: No matter what the alter call was, I was going up to receive prayer and see what God would do. So, the time comes; I'm ready to roll; they start to speak--and guess what I hear. "We believe this call is for men only." LOL!! I couldn't believe it! I sat there. I waited. About 3 or 4 minutes passed. Then a quiet young man picks up the microphone. You could just hear him over the murmur of the crowd.

He softly says, "I believe I have a word from God for someone, but I don't know who." Boom! I was on my feet and making a beeline for him. I quickly reached him and said I'd like prayer. He started off saying some nice things (I don't remember what) that sounded to me like, yah, that's probably something a loving God would say--to anyone. I was ready to be disappointed, but then he paused and said, "And I think God is saying 'Don't worry about spilt milk. There's plenty of milk in the refrigerator.'" I inwardly gasped. God did see me! He saw me that morning! He knew what I went through. He knew what I needed, and he cared. To me, this was huge! A big break-through.

It wasn't just that God spoke to me personally, but also that he showed that he knew my story, my weaknesses and my need for encouragement. In fact, as I reminisce, this encouragement is comforting to me even today, since I have been stepping out to serve in areas that are potentially anxiety-provoking and have plenty of room for making mistakes, specifically in writing and in leading worship music which calls for a bit of public speaking; the areas where I feel most vulnerable and am prone to self-criticism. Fear of making a mistake can leave a person paralyzed and avoiding the actions that are most meaningful to them! So, I have been reminding myself--don't worry about spilt milk!

A year later, after I had moved to Abbotsford, I spoke to the same man at a church service and told him how much that word had meant to me. He got excited and shared that he never usually gave prophetic words. I think that may have been the first one he, being a shy introvert, had ever given. So, in any case, he remembered it very well. I learned that when he was praying for me that day a year before, he had received a mental picture of me standing in front of a fridge with milk spilt all over the floor, and he interpreted the image according to what he thought God wanted him to say. So, in effect, as God was speaking to me, he was also showing the man that he could hear from God for another person. Awesome. A two-edged sword. And once again, it was just the beginning.