Cross the Bridge
I have the privilege of being present as someone whom I respect is called to make major changes in her life. It’s a frightening challenge. I remember. I went through the same thing a long time ago and, frankly, there are still days when Big Fella gets an earful over it.
In the 1970’s I was told it wasn’t enough to have constant conversations with God and the angels and spirits. To smack back at demons when they got pushy with me.
Who can you think of in their twenties has on the top of their list of goals becoming a prophet? Certainly not me. I already had enough problems with people telling me I was strange and eccentric. I didn’t need more proof.
But there we were. A crowd of people unexpectedly came into my life. They knew something was different. Some of them knew precisely what was going on. I was doing and saying things people don’t do. Young men unquestionably do not do. I lacked words for the new things occurring in my life. They could see that this was the gift of prophecy. When they told me, I was horrified.
It’s bad enough when God sneaks up on you and tell you that you are about to receive a gift you don’t want. It’s like giving an adult tool set to a five-year-old who really wants his first bicycle.
I wanted a bicycle.
God gave me something new for my spiritual tool set.
Seriously, God? What’s up with this?
I had no idea that I was in for a lifetime of wonder. It brought the miracles of everyday life into a new perspective.
When someone hears the new messages coming out of our mouths and doesn’t like it, we’re told we’re drunk. I’ve been told I’m self-indulgent, puffed up, crazy or an emotional and spiritual anarchist. I should shut up because I am somebody else’s hell. I am going to hell.
These are not bad things to hear when coming from the mouths of people who are full of fear. The very idea of life changing makes them squirm. How can I blame them? There have been many changes in my own life — including hearing God tell me that it was time for me to tell the rest of the world what It was telling me. Why couldn’t God and I do something simple like sit around all Sunday afternoon reading the newspaper and snoozing?
It’s a lot less frightening for this prophet to sink into a comfortable chair or sofa than it is to write or say out loud what God and the angels are telling me. This is where prophets have to differentiate their job from that of the spiritual leaders. A very small number of prophets’ jobs are both to tell what we hear and see plus to lead others. For most prophets, the job is entirely to pass on to the world what we are told.
And, for someone newly called to prophecy, that is a tough nut.
The gold in it for me is that I was quickly surrounded by women and men who had the gifts of leadership. God told me to open my mouth. Angels would stand around me, prodding me, until I would finally ask for help. People would ask me what I was hearing, but I had the mistaken idea that I had to both pass on the message and show how it was to be carried out.
How very wrong I was!
I would pass along the message and it was like watching Somebody hit the light switch inside the other person’s head. Their eyes would brighten. They’d smile and ask if that was all. When I’d say yes, often as not I would hear “That’s no problem. I know exactly what to do.”
And they did.
In the early days that left me shaking my head. I thought since an angel was coming along and telling me what God wanted done, I was supposed to contact world leaders and get it done. Immediately. Everywhere.
The good news is that it’s not how life works. Some people continue to tell me I am crazy. Some shake their heads and walk away. But enough knew then and still know what to do that things miraculously happen without me directing the show. Things that have been making a difference in lives ever since that time forty years ago because somebody knew how to carry the ball.
A marvelous part of prophecy is that sometimes our whole job consists of listening. We listen to God, to angels, to the women and men and children around us. Then we meditate. We pray. We balance the checkbook, pay the bills, wash the dishes. We do whatever is put in front of us to do.
Once we have listened and passed along the message, we have another job that takes years to learn. We prepare. We get ready for whatever it is we are supposed to do or hear next. For many — maybe most — prophets our lives consist of listening. Of speaking when we are told. Of being the messenger, not the message. Of watching others take over the message, make it their own and do whatever must be done for the good of Creation.
We go on.