Tuesday, January 31, 2006

The Divine Ambush

I just had to cut and paste this from the Elijah List dot com today. It fell upon my spirit like the gentle rain of grace. Enjoy.

It is by Jill Austin, one of my favourite authors ...

The Divine Ambush

Jesus Was A Mudslinger Too!

During three days of fasting, the Lord showed me Jeremiah 18:2, "Arise and go down to the potter's house and there I will cause you to hear My words." I thought, "Wow Lord! There are mudslingers in the Bible! You're a potter! But, still, how can You use me? I have such a longing to be used by You but I don't know what it would even look like."

A Holy Ambush

It was the last day of a festival I was attending, and it was drizzling and overcast. I was assigned to spend some time with the children at the festival, and the children reminded me that I had promised to show them a potter's wheel. I really didn't want to go out in the rain, but I knew that I was trapped. So I went out onto the muddy field thinking, I shouldn't have promised and this is stupid. I took a piece of clay and with exasperation, said, "Oh, all right, come on over!" The children were so excited.

Now I had to deal with not only making a pot in the rain, but with my bad attitude. I was frustrated and angry, and I especially didn't want to make a pot for children in the middle of a muddy field. But, I tried to get my heart right because I wanted the Lord to use me. I also wanted to be nice to the kids because I thought, the Lord's going to take me to the woodshed later.

So in the middle of the muddy field and the drizzling rain, I put the clay on the potter's wheel, and I began to center it. All of a sudden, I heard the Lord's voice. It wasn't a big holy moment or a radical revelation. The heavens didn't open, and the angels didn't begin to sing. I was wrestling and working out my heart and, although I didn't realize it yet, God had just ambushed me by using these little children to push me through the birth canal and into what would eventually become my prophetic destiny.

The Audible Voice Of The Lord

As I spun the wheel, I heard God say,

"I will center you and take away your double-mindedness. I know you."

As my hands started to go into the foundations of the clay, He said,

"I will build a foundation which is based on the Word of God. When you were in your mother's womb, I knew you and loved you."

Revelation just started to flow through my whole being. My hands became His hands. I'd made thousands of clay vessels before, but suddenly He added the living word of God.

"You are beautifully and fearfully made."

I was listening to Him talk and thought, Wow, Lord, that is really good! He responded,

"Well, if it's that good, why don't you repeat it?"

So, still concentrating on my pot, I simply repeated what I heard. I said things like,

"I know your destiny, and I know your birthright. Your form was not hidden from Me. Your name is written on the palm of My hand."

As I spoke, the revelation of the Lord fell on me. A crowd started to form around me out in the rain and the dreariness, and people started to laugh and cry.

As I pulled up the walls on the pot, I repeated,

"I will shape you and pull up your walls, almost to the breaking point, but I know who you are. I know your shape; I know your form. I know your function. My fingerprints will be seen on you."

I ended up making two vessels in the rain, and when I got off the wheel, I was trembling. I knew the Lord had sovereignly given me a profound gift. I knew He had spoken through me. I didn't know it was prophecy. This was 1971; there was no language about prophecy yet.

Ambushed Again!

A few days later, my Pastor phoned me and said that he had heard that I was doing stories on the potter's wheel.

"I only did one at the festival," I replied. He shared about the Saturday night concerts at the church and how they wanted to feature local talent before the main band. He asked if I would be willing to share my story on the wheel. Naively, I said I would.

The next Saturday night, I showed up at the church with my potter's wheel and wearing my overalls and my clunky, clay-covered hiking boots. The Pastor asked me to come to his office where all the musicians were hanging out. They were all wearing their black, shiny leather jackets and looking cool. I went up and said, "Hi guys!" and tried to look cool along with them. It's really hard to project a cool image as a female wearing dirty hiking boots.

The Pastor asked, "Do you have your script? Are you ready?"

I was taken aback, "Script? What do you mean by a script?" You see, I was trained as a fine artist, not a theatre major.

All of a sudden, he looked terrified and blurted out, "Well, you have to have a script. I asked you to tell a story on your potter's wheel. Didn't you write down your story and memorize it?" With an intense look on his face he asked, "Haven't you done that?"

Well, you see," I stammered, "God, He talks to me, and I listen and then just repeat it."

He looked shocked and said, "Nooooooo! You can't do it that way!" All of a sudden, sheer panic fell on me.

"You're right, I can't do it that way." I didn't know I needed a script. God, I should have asked You what I was going to talk about. I didn't even know enough to ask. I've got to run and hide and find some place to hear You and pray.

So that's how I ended up in the broom closet, terrified, as I heard the pastor's footsteps coming down the hall. He knocked on the door, and I said as nonchalantly as I could, "Yes? Come in."

He pulled open the door and said sternly, "No. You come out!"

A few guys carried my potter's wheel out onto the stage. Fear gripped my heart as I watched them carry it all the way to the other side of the huge stage. Oh Jesus, why did they take it over there? How am I going to get all the way across the stage?

I took a step out from behind the curtain, got halfway across the stage and made the mistake of looking out at the audience of 2,000 people. Four thousand eyes were all staring back at me, and I froze. I had this silly grin on my face, but inside I was screaming, God, get me out of here. I promise I'll be good! I'll never sin again. I repent, forgive me for the past, the present and the sins I haven't even committed yet. Why was I so stupid to say yes to this? I had no idea what I was getting myself into. I'm so totally disqualified. This was so stupid; I'm so stupid--stupid, stupid, stupid.

God To The Rescue!

Suddenly I saw an open vision, and I heard the Lord say,

"You know your clay, right?"

And then He walked across the stage, and it was like I hung on to the hem of His garment and followed Him across that long stage and sat down at my potter's wheel. I managed to say, "Hi!" to the audience. I was still so scared. I didn't know what else to do, so I began making a pot. I put the clay on the wheel, and as I added water and began to center the clay, I heard the living, audible voice of the Lord.

The Gift of Prophecy

"Oh my child, I will never leave or forsake you."

My response was, "What took you so long?" But I didn't want to get too mad because I didn't want Him to stop speaking. So I began to hear the voice, and once again I portrayed God's heart while making a beautiful vessel.

As my hands went deep into the clay, He said,

"I will pull up your walls and I will shape you. When you were in your mother's womb, I knew you."

As I formed the clay into a pitcher, He said,

"And you shall be My mouth piece. I will glaze you blue with revelation and with the gold of My Glory. I will send you forth to Argentina to bring forth revival to my people."

I shared approximately 15 minutes, and as I walked across the stage, 2,000 people gave me a standing ovation. It sure wasn't because I had stage presence or looked cool. It was because Holy Spirit came.

I believe part of the key of moving in the prophetic is having a heart like a child that will simply follow Him. As soon as you get hung up on the titles, you begin to lose that child-like faith to fly like an eagle.

Jill Austin
Master Potter Ministries


Holy Ghost Goosebumps! This eaglet is flying!

Friday, January 27, 2006

Update ... again

Again, I must apologize for not being in and adding posts which will astound you with their deep and meaningful expressions of what the Lord is doing in my life. (as though in my wildest dreams, I could even think that that would be the case!) *giggle*

My life really is too busy. The Lord breaks through almost every day of late to remind me that I need to bring some more balance into my time. The demands of ministry are great and I love my work so much, there is always one more person who needs to be heard and another who cannot get counselling because they have no money. They're willing to do anything to spend some time with another human being who really cares. How can I turn them down?

I thank the Lord that for every person who cannot afford to pay for counselling, there are three who can, who can support those in our body who need to be picked up and held and cared through their trials. I know that each person who comes through my door or calls my line is a child of the most High God ... it is His responsiblity to care for them and for me. What treasures I have, maybe not in money in my bank account, but in my heart as I watch the Lord work through their lives!

Awesome, but I digress. *sigh*

As many of you know, there have been changes going on in my ministry and in my life. The Lord exposed a difference in theology in our church which I have struggled with for several weeks. I want so much to work in unity with the people of God. I respect the thoughts and theologies of others, but it has been increasingly difficult to work in the environment ... I will not get into particulars because it really doesn't matter.

I see myself as an eaglet. I'm in the nest. I've been resting, learning, growing and now it is time to fly. The Lord is an amazing God and He teaches the mother eagle how to send her babies out of the nest. Remember, an eagle builds her nest way up high in a tree or on a cliff. In order to teach her eaglets how to fly, she nudges them off the edge, lets them fall, and then swoops down below them to catch them and bring them up to safety.

Can you imagine the fear and surprise of a precious little eaglet, leaning back in her comfortable nest, being brought food from mommy day after day after day? Ah, the life... and then one day ... mom comes along, nudges her out and woooooosssshhhhhhhh ... our little eaglet if plunging, faster, faster, faster down to earth. Something, created by Almighty God, rises up within her causes the little eaglet to flap her wings, faster, faster, faster ...

And then, when it seems the little one is doomed for destruction ... mom comes along, swoops down and catches the babe. *sigh* *safety* Mom brings the child back up to the nest and the others comfort her as her heart slowly stops pounding. This goes on for several days. Finally, the eaglet in her distress learns how to flutter a little and hold her own in the fall. After several weeks of this not so fun exercise, finally mom starts to bring sharp objects into the nest. No longer does she bring pieces of fur and lovely soft things to snuggle under, but she brings sharp pieces of glass and twigs. It is not so comfortable in the nest any more.

Mom has a purpose.
She is teaching and training her babies.
She is not hurting them, but causing them to grow.

She is teaching them to fly.

Finally, one day, mom pushes the little ones out again. And when they flutter and bring themselves back to the nest, she pushes them out again.


It is time to go. It is time to start their own lives. The nest is not so comfortable any more. Mom is always there to love and comfort, but only for a short time now.

God has a job for the children now.

Their own lives.

In many ways, my life is similar to this little eaglet these days. I know I must leave the nest and go on to another stage in my life and my ministry. I look forward with great excitement to a new chapter. In a precious Church and with precious people I have ministered to for years in another capacity through Cleansing Stream Ministries. In many ways it is an answer to prayer, in many ways it is a stretching which I am not so comfortable with.

But I know it is God's call. And ... I am at peace with it now.

Ode to Pastor Mike

Dear Pastor Mike:

As I prepare to move into a new Pastorate, the place to which I believe God has called me, I want to express some of my thankfulness to God for bringing me under your Pastorate for the last two years. You have indeed been a great blessing to me and I want to express that somehow here.

Please do not take my leaving the church as a failure of your ability to Pastor. I know that you struggle with my decision, but I want to share a little bit of what the Lord has been showing me these last few weeks.

My leaving is not a testiment to your inadequacy as a Pastor, but as a testiment to your ability.

When I needed a place to land after Dr. Angelo DelZotto's illness, you provided that place. When my mentor, and my father in the Lord was no longer able to minister to this child, you took over that place.

Even though you are younger than me, the evidence of the Father's Heart and the Apostolic call on your life gave me a place to land, and to rest.

I came green, inexperienced as a Pastor and you showed me what it was to be a Pastor.

I watched you grieve, and cry, and mourn, and pray over your flock. I saw your struggle when they struggled. I saw you give and give and give until it hurt you and then I saw you give some more.

I learned how to have faith through seeing your faith. No matter what happened in the church, no matter what was going on, you held fast to the call that God had given you to shepherd His precious sheep no matter what the danger.

I saw you take wayward and hurting sheep into your office day after day and listen to them. You loved them, you guided them, you discplined them when they needed and when they came in broken, you placed them upon your shoulders, sometimes literally and carried them until they were able to walk again. And then you watched and prayed over them while they recovered. Many, many times in the last two years, I have been one of those sheep as I cried and prayed and fasted over my precious son and the challenges of his disappearance and of our lives.

You provided an anointed office for me to start up my infant practice. When I struggled with a client, you listened to me and offered the Father's very heart for them when I couldn't hear His voice for my fear and inexperience.

You scolded me, gently, as a Father would, when I was way out of line in my emotions.

In many ways, I came to your ministry broken myself. Even though I have been called to minister the precious healing of God to His precious people, you were there to minister that healing to me time and time again.

When I brought my husband, broken as he was ... you accepted him for the call God had placed upon his life. You saw the potential and you would accept nothing less for his life. You called him forth into the Priestly position in our home and he has flourished under that expectation and anointing. For that especially, I thank you.

I do not regret one moment I spent in Streams and under your covering.

You have no idea the impact that you have upon your people as you struggle working out your own salvation with fear and trembling. No idea, Pastor, how you affect us in our own walk. You call us to a higher level with the Lord.

Isn't that what a Pastor is supposed to be?

And your teaching ... I have learned so much about the Word of God through you and your sermons. Week after week, I saw evidence of your time alone with the Lord when you presented meat and sweet dessert from the Bible. You opened up Scriptures and the lives of the Patriarchs in a way I never heard before.

You taught me to walk into the calling God had for me. You never called me Carolyn, but 'Reverend Doctor' ... reminding me continually of the call that God has placed upon my life. I do not think I would have walked into the success in ministry and private practice I enjoy had you not called me forth into that.

When I struggled with theology and new concepts from the Word, you gently carried me through and showed me love and compassion where my training and degrees should have brought me. Indeed, you called forth the Word that was hidden in my heart and allowed the Lord to weave it all together into balance and most important, the expression of love to the sheep.

That is all that matters. That's what you taught me more than all. The precious people of God, the sheep that are in His pasture and not ours, the very people He suffered and died for ... they are all that matter. Bringing them to a greater knowledge and understanding and fear of the Lord. Modelling it, teaching it, stumbling through the trials of life and finding ourselves firmly planted at the Feet of the Master together.

How can I ever thank you for what you have been to me in ministry? Father ... Friend ... Pastor ... Counsellor ... Priest ... Teacher ... Apostle ... Leader ... Example ... Healer ... Brother ... Confidant ... Support ... Discipline.

No, precious Pastor. You have not failed at all. You simply took me under your wing and nurtured me until I could fly. Then, with sadness, you released me into my next Pastorate.

I only pray that I can continue to grow under the covering of another precious Man of God as I have under you. I feel ready to continue into my ministry as God has called me to.

The eaglet is ready to fly. Watch me! Everything the Lord does through me and my ministry is on your account ... beautiful jewels in your crown! May the Lord continue to bring others into your Apostolic ministry to enjoy and flourish under the Father's love as I did.

I love you with the Love of Christ, Pastor. And I bless your ministry. You are called to something much bigger and grander than you have any idea. Remember the Sword. It is that of the Lord. He will cause you to rise up and cover many like you did me. And it will all be for His Glory.

Amen, and Thank you, Lord.

Thursday, January 05, 2006


I apologize that I have been so scarce the last few days. I actually have been very, very busy in a different sort of way.

Normally, I am sitting in my office, counselling, praying, worshipping, studying, preparing for the courses I teach, meeting with other Pastors, etc. When I think of what I do, my head spins!

However, this last two weeks I have been peeling, scraping, 'mucking', sanding, and finally ... painting, painting, painting, painting!

My precious house is over sixty years old and we are the second owners. Since I was ill and wheelchair bound in the beginning of our marriage and then went to post graduate studies for five ... well, need I tell you how much decorating was done in the last 10 years?? Not much.

Here is the before of the kitchen ... I am almost embarassed to post this ...

Now ... I cannot post the after because ... well ... I ran out of time and *sigh* paint. But it will be coming soon.

So if I am not around, that's why. You can be sure that as I sit today in my lovely office in Toronto that I will be thinking of my little house and the remaining baseboards and doorframes that need to be painted and the walls which need to be 'mucked' and sanded.

It feels good!