my name is john

it was friday, november 8, 2019. the alarm went off at 6 am stirring both women to get up and get moving. the conference schedule had two full days remaining, but their food supplies needed replenishing. the quick fix was another run to the local trader joe’s before driving to the conference location.

they made coffee in the room, turned on the tv and began chatting as they got ready for the day. the florida woman took a quick shower while the oregon woman read and posted some prophetic words on facebook.

one of those words reached in and grabbed her spirit as she read it the first time. when her friend was within earshot again, she read it out loud:

“be prepared to be sprung into action. days are quickly approaching when you will be called upon without a moment’s notice. be ready and in a state of preparedness to tackle whatever situation you encounter. it will be somewhat like being an emergency room physician. i am about to vault you into situations where you will have to respond quickly and be fast on your feet without second-guessing yourself. you are a spiritual first responder.”

philippians 4:13 (ampc) “i have strength for all things in christ who empowers me [i am ready for anything and equal to anything through him who infuses inner strength into me; i am self-sufficient in christ’s sufficiency].”  kevin robinson

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photo credit: pixabay

it was a rather sobering word. pay attention to your surroundings and respond as needed. nothing is coincidence.

the women got their gear in order for the day and headed to trader joe’s. armed with salads, granola bars and chocolate, they checked out and got in the car to drive to the conference.

the oregon woman, chauffeur for the week, noted her quickly declining patience as activity behind her prevented them from backing out and leaving. it was an odd configuration for a parking lot, not easy to navigate to the street. as they finally pulled up to the street to turn left, they saw her.

she was on the sidewalk to the left of the car, standing stock-still, almost catatonic. her eyes were fixed in a vacant stare. her left arm was draped across the top of her abdomen while her right arm covered the lower part. she was protecting herself.

her hair was sort of dishwater blond hair reaching past her shoulders. she looked well kept, not homeless. her coat was purple, her leggings black. she just stood there about 15 feet away from the car.

“my god, what’s wrong with her??” both women were shocked as they observed her. something was seriously wrong. the oregon woman looked at the florida woman in the car.

“she’s in shock. something happened to her. from the way she’s holding herself, she might have been raped or had an abortion. the oregon woman rolled down the driver’s window and called out to her.

“honey, are you okay? do you need anything?” the young woman continued to stare off into the distance. both women began calling out to her with urgency. “are you okay? are you hungry? do you need money? how can we help you?”

after what felt like an eternity, the young woman’s head turned toward them to engage. she took a few steps toward the car. her brokenness was heart breaking.

by this time, each woman had pulled cash out of their wallets to give her. now, she was closer to the car. the oregon woman extended the cash out the window to her. “honey, what’s your name?”

her answer stunned them, confirming her need for help. her lips trembled as she answered, “my name is john.” the women looked at each other. tears came to their eyes as they quickly realized they weren’t at all equipped to help her. and whoever john was, well, that opened up more questions than answers.

they couldn’t take her anywhere and they couldn’t stay parked at the exit of the parking lot. they left her there, standing still on the sidewalk, motionless, holding two twenties in her left hand, broken.

the florida woman cried as they drove away. they felt helpless but knew couldn’t care for her further. the oregon woman dialed 911. they could get a patrol car to do a wellness check on her.

“911 operator, can I help you?”

“yes, please, my name is ___________. we were just pulling out of trader’s joe’s at the intersection of ___________.

there’s a young woman standing on the sidewalk, almost catatonic. she needs a wellness check. something is very wrong. we gave her some money, but she needs looking after.”

the operator asked for a few more details and the call ended. as they drove to their destination, jesus spoke up, “you did exactly what I wanted you to do.”

when they arrived at the conference, the oregon woman ran to one of the spiritual mothers who also happened to be a social worker.  after telling the story, the older woman confirmed what jesus had said.

“you were not equipped to help her. i would’ve done the very same thing. it was the right thing to do.”

the prophetic word they received earlier did equip the women for the assignment they were given. they cared, they loved, they provided, they prayed. the young woman would be okay.

it was another good day in the kingdom.

copyright 2019 jane doe productions llc

 

possibilities, potential and promise

it was 5 am saturday morning. she was wide awake. sleeping in wasn’t happening today. another roller coaster week in her never a dull moment life was over. it was time to rest and reflect, laugh again.

it was a melting pot of warfare, sleepless nights, tears, passionate conversations with bad endings. demons swearing at her. nice. what was that about being blessed when you’re persecuted and people talk ugly to you? she shook her head and laughed. the devil only has a hissy fit when you’re doing something right. well then.

trust the process

“trust the process,” her friend told her. when she heard it, she knew it came right from papa god’s heart. trust the process. indeed. she’d asked papa for his best for her.

she’d seen him through his papa’s eyes for some time now. she saw him in truth, in perfection, as a beloved son even when he wasn’t fully awake to this reality.

he’d had brilliant prophetic words spoken over him, words of promise, hope and a future. he saw vignettes of unlimited possibilities and potential, the ways papa god wanted to bless him as his son. he saw how his gifts and talents could be brought to life.

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photo credit: pixaby

most importantly, he was presented with the beautiful gift of a wife, a full partner he could walk with in this life. would he step into his destiny? would he come back for her?

this was a major life decision. in returning to her, he’d be turning his face fully back to papa god. it meant walking arm in arm with him in unity. it meant stepping into sonship.

it meant radical change in direction, a homecoming worth celebrating loudly. the cloud of witnesses perched on the edge of their seats wondering how this would play out. would he choose well? would he be bold and courageous? yes, the stakes were high but the reward was great.

she’d prayed intently over him and his family for cleansing and restoration in their blood lines. for all the enemy stole to be returned to them 7-fold.

weeks turned to months, months grew to years. she wept over him, took communion over him, visioning life with him. she determined to cooperate fully with papa god, willing him to have every opportunity to make the best choice for his future and future generations.

she prayed for wisdom and revelation that the eyes of his understanding would be open. she prayed for his heart to be one with father god’s heart again. she called to his spirit to rise up and lead his soul, declaring his spirit would only be led by holy spirit.

faithful friends stood with her and prayed. in all of it she kept telling papa god she wanted his best.

she gave him wide margins to work things out on his own. she spoke when holy spirit prompted her – and sometimes when silence was the better option. grace covered her.

unconditional love often gets an unexpected response

wisdom dictated several things she would not compromise. those things had earned her unfriending, blocking and ‘goodbye.’ unconditional love often gets an unexpected response.

jesus chimed in on her thoughts, showing her some of his daily experience. he’s telling us, “i love you, i’m here for you, not leaving you. ever.” his compassion rises, watching us trying to stitch up our gaping wounds. we lay there bleeding, still holding up the hand, saying, “i’m good here. get the hell away from me.

see how we are

see how we are. still, he doesn’t leave. he waits until we give in, showing him our wounds, allowing him to love and heal us. she remembered her conversation with jesus, drowning in her own lake of mess. “i am so freaking broken. what do you want with me??

she could see it wasn’t him rejecting her. it was a combination of pain, fear and angst speaking, a realization that the old ways of dodging brokenness weren’t working.

she didn’t leave, either. she loved him hard, praying for him when she would have rather kicked his backside. love never fails, never gives up. it gets up in the morning to love another day, to love the hell away.

now, she waited, trusting the process, waiting on the promise.

the best man is coming for her.

copyright jane doe productions © 2018

 

the girl who wasn’t clumsy

she wasn’t sure when the thought came to her. and to go to that restaurant? she hadn’t been there since they’d last been there together. the pleasant thought stayed with her until it became almost a compulsion. breakfast food. ham and eggs. what?

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photo credit: pixabay

the weekend arrived and the prompting to go out to breakfast persisted. but it wouldn’t happen today. today was just about rest. she had no intention of leaving the house. the last week brought revelation and information she hadn’t necessarily appreciated, even though it was necessary. mucking around in family cobwebs was dusty and dirty. an epsom salt bath to get it off was in order. saturday was largely uneventful, exactly the way she wanted it.

then sunday morning came. she rose early and cleaned up. should she go to church? no. that was easy. she was going out to breakfast. ham and eggs called her. ridiculous, but all right.

in the meantime, another friend texted her. she was going through some transitions and needed time. they talked until the issues were unpacked and prayers were spoken to resolve them. it was good to be daughters of the king. he was kind, loving, patient. he ruled his kingdom well.

she left the house, got in her car and drove downtown to the restaurant. there was parking right in the front of the stairs up to the entrance. she parked and sat in the car for a moment. off to the right was the courtyard they’d sat in so many times after church drinking iced teas, beer or hot tea depending on the weather and the mood.

they’d sorted things in this place, laughing, crying, grieving, making friends with their favorite waitress, all the while looking to the future. the memories were sweet and there would be more of them. soon.

this morning, no one was sitting outside. it was still cool, the weekend prior to the grand eclipse. everyone was out of town getting in position to witness the heaven-kissing-earth event.

the only activity was the young woman sweeping the entrance to the courtyard. she was a teenager, fifteen or sixteen perhaps, with long sandy, blonde hair pulled back in a pony tail. she was assigned to wait on any guests who chose to sit outside during her shift.

she was drawn to her. why? she grabbed her bag and exited the car, greeting the young woman at the same time. “good morning! how are you?” there was purpose in being friendly. a door needed opening. they made some small talk, and then she saw them. the young woman’s right cheek had scratches all over it.

“honey, what happened to your cheek?” she asked. the young woman hesitated, unsure of herself. was she embarrassed? was she afraid? what was it?

finally, the waitress met her gaze and answered. “i, uh, fell down. i’m sort of clumsy. i fall down a lot.” she looked into the young woman’s eyes intently. did she call her out or did she meet her where she was? grace took over.

“well, then. you are a daughter of god, and he didn’t make you to be clumsy and fall down. do you mind if i pray for you, honey?” “no, not at all,” the waitress smiled shyly.

she bridged the distance between them with two steps and put her left hand on the girl’s right shoulder. in a few sentences, she commanded her angels to protect her from future falls and harm of any kind, declaring that daddy god would order her steps and make them sure. she blessed her.

when she opened her eyes, she saw the young woman still had her eyes closed. it was a sweet image to see. as they finished, a young man, either a cook or a waiter from inside the restaurant called out from the top of the stairs to young woman. hmm. okay. she would have time to observe more while she ate. she went up the stairs and got seated.

the menu choices were varied and good, but she stuck to ham, eggs, potatoes and sourdough toast. as she ate, she recalled another meal in that place with other dear friends she hadn’t seen in months. more good memories. it was good to be here and think on happy things.

the young woman appeared to clear her plate and refill her water glass. she had been touched that a stranger loved her enough to pray for her, and not say out loud what they both knew: she was not clumsy. she did not fall. someone had pushed her down. hard.

they kept the secret between them and daddy god. it was fine for now. but when she went back there again, she would be checking on the girl who wasn’t clumsy.

(copyright © 2017 jane doe productions)