The last weeks were so incredibly busy, which called for no posts.
Yeah. But. Then there was that time I graduated from BSSM First Year.
Ending the year at school was incredibly surreal. The Thursday before the Monday we graduated was our knighting/commissioning day by the fathers of the house, Bill and Kris.
Kris spoke before and well that’s always amazing. And then the madness of every student in first and second year lining up to be knighted ensued. Like many, I wandered until the line shortened an exceptional amount. Just talking. Hugging, crying. With everyone I could find who I had so much love for in my heart this year.
Heartwrenching, to say the least.
It was one of the most bittersweet days I’ve had the privilege to experience.
Then finally came the time to be knighted. I jumped in line with two of my best friends from the year. And the way knighting went was a line of about ten or so would kneel and Bill and Kris moved down the line of ten, knighting them, and then came the next line of ten and it continued from there.
I was third in our line of ten (which may have been more than ten, but who’s counting?). And that’s what it became so real. Everything from the whole year came to that point. I looked down to the line to my left and watched my best friends on my right getting knighted. Then came my turn, and contrary to several I watched before, I kept my eyes open. I watched Bill’s and Kris’s face while they were knighting me. And as soon as the swords lifted came the waterworks. After being knighted, you were to walk through a tunnel made up of all of the pastors and interns and volunteers of the school. They cheered, encouraged, and blessed you through the whole tunnel. And I couldn’t speak for about half an hour after I was out of the tunnel.
I didn’t want to. What a moment. It was just crying, hugging, praising, and loving the year and the people and the moment we all had just shared. That’s one you remember. It’ll keep close to my heart. No question about it.
And then I graduated! Which was equally bittersweet. And so special. What an end to an amazing year.
Then home I went, which was busy and short, but still lovely as always. And a couple nights before leaving to come back to Redding, I packed up my room in my mom’s house. Man. Memories from pretty much my whole life. I think I’ve learned now that as you get older, the transitions you make are SO wonderful and amazing, but just that much harder to actually make.
I’m back in California now, and I’ve got to say something about how much God loves me before I end this. I had a meeting with my landlord today, and he basically told me he didn’t want to charge me more to have my own, bigger room than the room I was sharing before my roommate moved out. All I have to do is paint the walls of the old room I was in. So basically I just got paid to paint four small walls for 360 dollars. God’s a God of abundance, and He loves to give you an experiential understanding of that fact.
Heidi spoke at school today. Which is always such a blessing.
(I say always like she has come so many times. She came once at the beginning of the year).
But I was wrecked, of course, by stories of her life. If you don’t know who she is, check her out. Heidi Baker with Iris Ministries. I could just retell her stories here, but my brain and heart are already mush from the school day, so I don’t think that would go well.
So I’ll just leave you with this.
Love in action, because love LOOKS like something. It looks like a lot of things.
Challenging myself with waking up every morning and asking, “Alright God, what is love going to look like today?”
God has blessed me with so much, and I could easily accept it as only my own, and some of God’s gifts to me are just for me, but the majority of His blessings are to be shared.
Multiplication is your provision.
The abundance of the Kingdom is your provision.
Serving out of our true identity looks like releasing that with which we have been blessed to others.
Love looks like service.
Love looks like faith.
Love looks like humility.
Love looks like something.
That’s an infinite something. It’s not just a one and done answer. It’s our job, and it is God’s delight to show us what love looks like.
So here’s to fresh revelation of love, and showing the world what that love looks like.
Finally did it.
Made a tumblr.
And am posting on it? This isn’t real life.
No, no. It is.
Doing this reminds me of making my first LiveJournal post, and how long it took me to do that. And it ended up just being LOST IS MY LIFE. Which I could say isn’t true anymore, but I mean, a reminder of LOST is tattooed forever on my body as of recently, so, it’s true.
And I would never want it to not be true!
There may or may not be a not-so-random plug for LOST in every tumblr post I do ever. And I am not ashamed of that.
As for what is actually going to happen here, who knows. I’m working on becoming a Starbucks gold member, so it’s something to do while I warm my soul with the happiness that comes in these white, environmentally friendly 12-20oz cups.
But really, what will happen here.
Well here’s me.
ambassador of Heaven!
I’m a student at Bethel School of Supernatural Ministry, and LOVE it. Love it, love Jesus, love these people. Love bringing Heaven to earth. HATE religion. But really, hate it. More than a little bit. I try to look a little more like Jesus every day, and the only way I’m getting any closer is love, not rules, judgment, or any of that silly religion. So a lot of what I might blog-a-log will very likely be a recounting of radical supernatural occurrences that I am so blessed to witness. I have a blog that I started on wordpress but it won’t be going anywhere anymore, because I’m going to use this more long-term. http://billsatbethel.wordpress.com/ is that. It only has three or four posts, but that lets you know a little bit of what is up.
Random Story Time!
This will wrap things up. The school I am attending sends out the students all over the world on missions trips in March, and ten of those trips are in the US. One of those ten is to travel to Gadsden, Alabama to minister at a residential rehabilitation clinic called The Bridge.
First off, the fourteen of us who were on this trip were hosted by families who attend a church in Gadsden called the Gadsden Vineyard Church. And all of our families were such a blessing. There isn’t much like southern hospitality, and that’s a fact. Every meal we had could have easily fed seventy people. But that’s besides the point.
At The Bridge we hung out with guys ages 14-18 who were a part of the 45 or 90 day program there. And I say hung out, because, that’s really what they needed. These guys grew up believing all these lies about who they are. About who they can’t be, and that what they do and have done defines them. Even if we did not do any inner-healing ministry or prayer, hanging out with them and prophesying over them their true identity, and how God sees them would have satisfied my hunger to see those guys’ lives changed. Especially in a facility like they were in where they get treated and spoken towards based upon what they have done, not who they are. And I thank God for dreams, destinies, and identities realized that week. But more specifically, there was one guy who came the last day we were there. He didn’t come to any of the group sessions earlier that week, and after meeting I soon found out that it was because, in his words,
“I already know God’s mad at me, and I didn’t need y’all to tell me that.”
So there it was, one of the things I hated the most, religion. And God put it right in front of me for Him and me to tear down. And tear it down we did.
In what took some of the guys the whole week to do, this guy did in an hour and a half.
And that was open up.
After it clicked that God wasn’t mad at him, and how God does actually see him, he was more than happy to share any and everything with me. I was amazed at how easily sharing personal conflicts and obstacles and past hurt came to him. But then I remembered. God was in this. And He was in the mood to be known, so he supernaturally invaded, made the trust and comfort levels peak between me and the young guy, (Not using names for obvious reasons), and I was given a word of knowledge (meaning God gave me information I didn’t know previously about his life) about his friend who he had seen shot and killed before being admitted into the program, and the pain and guilt that was associated with that happening.
That and several other things that came up were prayed through and healed by the end of the time we had together. God radically changed him that day. Within an hour and a half he went from, “I know God’s mad at me,” to, “Why wasn’t I coming all this week? Thank you so much for showing me what God thinks about me.”
That right there, is what the whole trip was about. Every person has a deep inner desire to be known. To just know that somebody knows them, and loves knowing them. And that happened for these guys at The Bridge.
Well, random story time ever.
Join us next time for LOST memories, God’s love, random Bill-stories, and grass-fed grass.
This post is four-thousand years long, so I have GOT to wrap it up soon.
By soon I mean now.