Thursday

A Legacy From Adam

“You come of the Lord Adam and the Lady Eve,” said Aslan. “And that is both honor enough to erect the head of the poorest beggar, and shame enough to bow the shoulders of the greatest emperor on earth. Be content.” CS Lewis, Prince Caspian

As a man, as a human being, I am heir to the strengths and many of the peculiarities of those who have gone before me.

I have brown hair and blue eyes: I inherited these genes from my parents.

I sunburn easily. I inherited this characteristic from the Scotsmen and Englishmen who populate my family tree.

I also inherited something from one of my more distant forbears, the first Man, Adam himself. While I am certainly not his only descendent on planet Earth, I am one of his descendents, and one of his heirs. I believe that you and I, Adam’s heirs, have the right to name ourselves inheritors of his calling.

What was Adam’s calling? What was the first responsibility given to Adam?

Out of the ground the LORD God formed every beast of the field and every bird of the air, and brought them to Adam to see what he would call them. And whatever Adam called each living creature, that was its name. –Genesis 2:19

Adam’s first responsibility was to give names to every creature that God made. “Whatever Adam called each living creature, that was its name.”

I had a revelation recently about how important it can be that we – Adam’s heirs – are inheritors of Adam’s calling, Adam’s authority.

One night, a group of prophetic intercessors had gathered together in our home, and were praying about a minor stronghold in our hometown. There was a high bridge downtown, a favorite among the despondent members of our community; it became known as “Suicide Bridge.” For years, it had been known by that name, and used for that purpose.

Recently, several of us had noticed that when we crossed that bridge, thoughts of suicide, temptation to jump, came upon us: we who were healthy, satisfied, happy individuals. These clearly were not our thoughts: they came from outside of us, from something associated with death, and associated with that location.

As we prayed together, we understood that there had been enough suicides, enough wrongful deaths in that place, that the enemy had capitalized on all the death, and assigned a demon to the bridge, to become a stronghold, whose responsibility, it seemed, was to maximize the enemy’s investment in the form of suicides from the bridge.

Most of the intercessors gathered together that night had learned that the “right way” to deal with things like this was to discern the name of the demon, and then to use that name, with the authority of the name of Jesus, to break the creature’s right to live there and to work there.

But we didn’t know the creature’s name.

As we were looking for the name, God spoke up: “You are heir to Adam.” Hunh? What? “You have inherited Adam’s authority to name living creatures.”

And the light went on!

We named the demon, “Bob,” and then we broke “Bob’s” authority and assignment in that place, and kicked him out. The “urge to jump” was gone the next morning, and within a week, the city “just happened” to raise all the railings on the bridge to eight feet high. There have been no more suicides that I know of off of that bridge. More importantly, there is no “urge” to end it all when passing by that place.

Hmm. That was interesting. I suspect we may be onto something.

Another time, we were involved in a wonderful and glorious session of healing and deliverance, in a wonderful, family-based environment. Most of the words of knowledge that directed our ministry came through pre-teenagers that night. Everything was going well, our friend was finding real freedom, until we came upon one demonic stronghold that would not let go.

After we fussed and fumed for a bit, God said it again. “You are heir to Adam.” We named the beastie “Squiggly” (as that was the dominant characteristic: he squirmed and slipped out of our “grasp” as we prayed). We assigned him the name, seriously: we took up the authority we’d inherited from Adam, we stripped it of whatever (unknown) name it had gone by, and we gave it a new name: its name was now Squiggly. Then we commanded it by that name, and the demon submitted quickly and left peacefully.

If you’ve been part of deliverance ministry, if you’ve been involved with a team breaking down demonic strongholds, you may have encountered the obstruction of a demonic beastie whose name you did not know, and therefore you may have had difficulties overcoming the thing.

Based on our revelation, supported by our experience and by the Biblical description of Adam’s calling, I believe that we as heirs of Adam have the right to Adam’s commission: “Whatever Adam called each living creature, that was its name.” If you can’t find the thing’s name, then give it a name, and use that name to get rid of it.

(I am not arguing for a theology that says our authority in Christ is limited only to those circumstances wherein we know the enemy’s name; I’m merely observing that many intercessors and ministers have encountered obstructions that we have associated with not knowing the demonic spirit’s name. And of course, I am not encouraging rookies to wield this weapon as if it were a talisman; I remind you of the seven sons of Sceva.)

Finally, I observe that there is, in practical terms, a substantial difference between referring to a spirit, and naming a spirit. Talking about “that squiggly demon” is not at all the same thing as naming the thing “Squiggly,” assigning it the name, exercising Adam’s authority. If I am just talking about a spirit, a demon, then I am not exercising the authority I’ve inherited from Adam; I’m merely talking (to it, to God, about it…) as a man. But to name something is to both claim and exercise authority over it, authority that you actually have, authority that you’ve inherited. Step into the authority you’ve inherited from Adam: wield the authority you’ve been given.

I’m interested to hear if others have found this weapon, and what experiences they’ve had when wielding it. Please comment here, or email me at nwp@northwestprophetic.com. I look forward to hearing from you.


Wednesday

Whose Will Is It Anyway?


Let’s just settle the matter: God is good. OK? Are we good on that? 

Jesus is the perfect representation of the Father, and he never gave anybody sickness, never broke anybody’s leg, never killed anybody. He got angry, yes, particularly when religious people put obstacles in front of others coming to know God, but he never brought disaster, never encouraged disaster, never taught his kids that disaster is good, never looked the other way when somebody did bad things.

God is good.

Unfortunately (or at least inconveniently), God’s will is not the only force happening in the universe. If God was the only one who got to choose, we’d see an entire universe full of the stuff Jesus did: healing the sick, raising the dead, deliverance from demons, teaching how good God is.

But that’s not what we see. We see wars, famine, busted relationships, child prostitution, kids disrespecting parents, all manner of evil.

Some people have begun with the assumption that God is the only free-willed being in the universe, and, looking at evil in the world, they accuse him of being either powerless or evil. You can’t reach a wise conclusion beginning with a faulty assumption.


The real reason for this mess is love. Real love. Because real love has to be free; it has to be freely chosen.

One of the evils we see in this life is people trying to force other people to love them. Variously expressed as manipulation, self-pity, stalking, control, abuse, and occasionally murder, it illustrates that love cannot be forced. In order to really have real love you really need to have real free will. Without free will, the closest you can get to true love is a sex slave. Not the same thing.

God has set up this universe to allow real love relationships between his creation – you and me – and himself. Which means that God has given us free will. Not “pseudo free will,” the real thing, absolutely free, dangerously free. We can choose to love him, but we can choose anything else we want to. We can choose to hate God, or other people; we can choose to ignore God, or people, or traffic laws. We can choose to speak only in King James English, or to rub blue mud into our belly button.

There are real consequences to our free-will choices. It may be as simple as ending up with a belly button that is now stained blue. Or my choices may result in someone hating me back, beating me up because I didn’t live up to their expectations of me. Or I may end up in jail simply because I decided that red traffic lights meant “Go” this week, and crashed into someone who foolishly thought that my choices were controlled by colored lights. Free choices result in real consequences.

A whole bunch of nasty things in this otherwise lovely planet have come from people – human beings, made in the image of God – making stupid choices. That’s a lot of the reason we have slums and wars and corporate greed and manipulative leaders: people exercising their free will, and nasty consequences resulting.

And without that free will, we could never experience love. We couldn’t be loved, we couldn’t love. So we kinda have to keep the free will thing. Not that we have the power to change it anyway: this is the way God created the universe; I can’t overrule his free will, and he won’t overrule mine.

But that’s not the end of the matter. There is another free will at play in this game.

You and I – the human species – were not the first beings created with free will. Apparently long before we were created, an angel decided to depose God and become God himself instead. When God objected, the rebellious angel started a war with a third of the angelic host, and was about as effective as a gnat would be in its attempts to stop a volcanic eruption: not so much.

So the rebel Lucifer and a bunch of his friends were chucked out of heaven and landed where? Yep, here: this planet. Good ol’ Mother Earth. (Bunny trail: I wonder if that was the “mega asteroid” that destroyed the dinosaurs? Hmmm.)

So now we’re inhabitants of a planet with at least two intelligent species with free wills: humankind and angel-kind. And Lucifer, now going by Satan, has made “steal, kill and destroy” as his choice. So he steals, kills, and destroys. (We could get into how he implements that choice, but that’s another conversation.)

And a good deal of his efforts are still about gathering a following: he persuaded 1/3 of the angels to follow him, and how he’s persuading human beings to follow him.

One significant difference: humanity was given authority that Lucifer was not: “Fill the earth and subdue it.” We were given authority on this planet; the only way the Lucy & Co can get it is to persuade someone with authority to give it to him. He’s already failed at persuading God, so he goes to work to persuade man: and when Adam submitted to the Lucifer rather than to God, he handed his authority over the planet to Lucifer as well.

It’s a long & exciting story, but the conclusion was that Jesus got that authority back in the cross, and rather than keeping it himself (making all of creation slaves without free will), he handed it back to us. “All authority in Heaven & Earth has been given to me. Go therefore….” It’s our planet, and we have authority here, unless we can be persuaded to make the choice to give that authority away.

We still have our free will, of course: we can choose to eat the apple, to turn the stone to bread, or we can choose not to. It bothers me how many of my human brethren have chosen the apple, the bread, over real freedom; it bothers me how often I’ve chosen them. I’m taking my choices back.

That's a whole lot of free will going on! No wonder so much happens that is not like our good God. 

One of these days, the rebel Lucifer will experience the consequences of his free-will choices on this planet. An eyewitness described that event as a “lake of fire.” And anybody who chooses to follow him will have the privilege of following him there, much to the grief of the One who made them for love. But free will is really free, absolutely free, dangerously free.

I must admit, in some ways, I’m really looking forward to the day that the fallen-angel-without-authority is removed from free circulation upon my planet and among my people. I’m sick and tired of his shenanigans: stirring up hate and murder and destruction, and then blaming it on God; planting hopeless or accusing thoughts in people’s minds and then accusing them for the thoughts he planted. I’m tired of smelling his stink on the planet. I look forward to being free from that foul influence.

So in my free time (that portion of my time that I can actually make a free-will choice about; that is: all of my time!), I’m working to minimize his stench: I’m working to persuade people to “Step away from the lie” and learn to live loved. I’m working to confront lies when I see them, and when those who believe them (including myself) will listen to me. I’m working to put limits on the actions of the fool who wants to steal, kill and destroy. I’m working to let my loving Creator be seen, be loved, be followed in my house, in my neighborhood, on my planet. I’m working to enter his rest, and learn how to better be loved my own self. 


I can  t change it all. But I can change me, and that will change the people I can touch. I cant solve the problem, but I dont do what I can do, Im letting the problem continue unabated. Not good.
I want my planet back! 


Care to join me? 

Thursday

A Problem with Trusting.


One of the less-visible wounds from betrayal or abuse by leaders we've trusted is an unbalanced sense of trust. Some will not easily trust again, and yes, that needs healing, but a less-visible (and therefore more dangerous) wound works in the opposite direction: too much trust.
 
A victim of untrustworthy leadership (and the "untrustworthy" can be merely in the mind of the wounded) very often has lost a measure of confidence in their own ability to "correctly" hear from the Holy Spirit. Unfortunately, this makes it easy to walk away from an untrustworthy leader, only to concede too much trust to trustworthy leaders, even to the point where we (perhaps unknowingly) trust the leader's words more than the things that Holy Spirit speaks to us directly.
 
I see at least three temptations in this:

1) Leaders can be flattered and tempted to take the place of the Holy Spirit in a wounded person's life. ("They need me!") This is not an insignificant temptation; it feels good to be needed.
 
2) The wounded person can be tempted to look to a man (or woman, but usually a man) instead of to the Holy Spirit. ("I trust him to hear God correctly!") This often masquerades as a "safe" alternative.
 
3) They both are likely being set up for a serious disappointment. We're talking "crash and burn" level  disappointment here.
 
The reality is that no human being can really take the place of the Holy Spirit in my life, and any attempt (intentional or not) to do so will end in disaster.
 
I have watched helplessly as this scenario has exploded in marital affairs, divorce, broken congregations and the violent end of the successful ministries of people on both ends of the equation. Occasionally it has resulted (presumably with other complications) in murder. I suppose these are predictiable, given that the source of this calamity is famous for "stealing, killing & destroying." 
 
My "takeaway" from this is to emphasize - in my life, and to the folks around me - that God is an effective Father, well able to lead his children Himself: my goal is always to lead others to Christ, and to be led myself to Him. Any time (and I think this is an absolute) one human being lingers between God and another human being, there will be trouble. 

Wednesday

Trust His Heart (Even When It Hurts)


It's always a challenge to trust someone's heart, whether it's God or our brothers/sisters. But it makes a huge difference in our experience in that relationship; it can make the difference between growth and suffering.

Spurgeon wrote: ‎”God is too good to be unkind. He is too wise to be confused. If I cannot trace His hand, I can always trust His heart.”

When others (whether God or man) do something that we don't understand, or something that hurts, the enemy accuses them before us. He often declares, “Look what they did to you! You can’t trust them! That hurt you! They did it on purpose!” Implicit in his accusation is the assumption that we have the right to judge God, to judge our brother or our sister. The accuser of the brethren accuses them before us, and invites – tempts – us to join in that accusation. He tempts us to join his work against those whom we have trusted.

But we actually have the choice: We can often look past the event to their heart. With God we can say, “I am confident that God will not do something for the purpose of hurting me. If I can't trust my understanding of what He's doing, at least I can trust his goodness; I can trust that he is FOR me! He has my best interests in mind.” And it helps take the sting out of it.

And if our brother or sister does something that we don't understand, something that hurts, we have the option of looking past that “something” to their heart. We can't say that every brother, every sister has our best interests in mind, but often, they do, and yet the enemy still accuses them before us. It is appropriate to look past the thing that we don't understand to their heart.

If we can say, “I don't understand, but I know that they're FOR me,” then we can trust their heart, instead of our understanding of their actions. It doesn't fix the problem (and there will always be problems among human beings), but it takes out some of the sting, and it silences the enemy's accusations, which are much of the source of pain.

Sometimes we have to say, “Yeah, that was stupid, but they didn't know any better.” Maybe it's because they're immature; maybe it's because they didn't know we're fragile in that area; maybe it's because they're going through their own storm right now.

Often enough, I have been led to declare, “I don’t know that they are for me, but I will not assume otherwise. I don’t even know that they didn’t know any better, but I will not assume otherwise. They may have done that to hurt me, but I will not join the enemy’s accusation against them!”

Still the enemy accuses them before us, tempts us to be their judge and jury, tempts us to take our eyes off of Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, and focus instead on the offense, on the pain (real or imagined) that it causes.

If we choose to partner with the father of lies, we will believe his accusation, assume evil of our brother, and join his accusation or resent him, and thus is a “root of bitterness “planted in our heart. We don’t often intentionally choose to partner with the accuser, but if we respond with accusation, resentment, bitterness, then that is in fact the choice we have made. Ouch.

If we instead choose to partner with the Father of Light, then we can choose to trust that in the midst of it all, He has our best interests in mind, trust that he will bring good out of the evil, trust our brother’s heart. I’ve heard some starry-eyed brethren insist that if we’re focused on God, then it won’t hurt. Bosh. That’s denial.

A wound is a wound, and while it’s not profitable to focus on the wound, neither is it profitable to pretend it’s not there. But if we respond in trust – of God, and of our brother – then it’s a lesser wound than the enemy’s plan, and it can be healed more quickly, more completely, and more profitably: we can learn from the wound.

Graham Cooke teaches that the wise response is not to become hard in an attempt to be un-woundable. The wise response is to learn to be healed quickly.

Father, let us respond as Jesus did, “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they do,” and as Stephen did, “Lord, do not hold this sin against them.” The devil’s got more than enough followers anyway; I won’t add my name to that list.