As the couple enters the courtyard, a joyful cheer erupts from the fifty Jesus-followers gathered in the enclosure. “Praise God! You’re home again. The Lord has spared you—glory to his name!” The brothers and sisters crowd around the man and woman, hugging them, weeping with joy and relief. The woman wipes a tear from her eye, careful to avoid the large purple welt on her cheek and the bloody gash on her eyebrow. Several sisters surround her, anxious to help. “We’re so grateful our prayers for your release have been answered. You have suffered much for the Name. Please, be seated Continue Reading
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How to be Discerning About People Who Say They are Prophets
Some time ago, I was given a suggestion to check out a certain minister with a large social media audience who regularly posts prophetic messages online. The person ardently following this (self-proclaimed) prophet considers him a major source of spiritual input for personal growth. I clicked on a couple of links and quickly decided not to trust this "prophet" for any kind of spiritual guidance. These days, anyone with a bit of Bible knowledge and familiarity with prophetic terminology can build a platform and attract followers. It’s pretty simple to convince lots of folks you Continue Reading
Why Prophetic Words Must Pass the Test of Evaluation
I struggled off and on with bouts of depression as a young woman, so when the blues hit me three months after Scott and I got married, it wasn’t a new experience. I decided to ask for prayer at church. We had recently joined a small start-up fellowship which numbered perhaps twenty and met in a tiny, rented building. Most of us were in our twenties or thirties. What we lacked in wisdom and experience, we made up for with zeal. When I asked for prayer about my depression, more than one individual chimed in with a prophetic word. I was told the depression happened because I was Continue Reading
How the Gift of Prophecy Offers Strength, Encouragement and Comfort
During what many Christians called “the refreshing,” an outpouring of the Holy Spirit in the 1990’s, my family had spent a weekend attending special meetings at a church with a connection to our own. Before undertaking the 10-hour trip home, we stopped at a gas station. A long-haired, bearded man sat cross-legged on the station’s sidewalk. Beside him lay a small, grubby backpack. I walked by the unkempt stranger quickly as I herded my three young boys toward the gas station’s restrooms. “If you’re looking for the bathrooms, they’re that way.” He pointed. I thanked him curtly, not Continue Reading