L'Shanah Tovah

I forgot to post about Rosh Ha'Shanah, the Jewish New Year. Rosh Ha'Shanah is one of the holiest days of the year. It is also known as the Feast of Trumpets (during which the shofar, a.k.a. the ram's horn, is blown many times) and the Day of Remembrance. Rosh Ha'Shanah is the beginning of the High Holy Days. These are the ten Days of Awe in between the Day of Remembrance (Yom Ha'Zikkaron) and the Day of Atonement (Yom Kippur). It is a sober time of reflection for most Jews, a time to repent of wrongdoings and to make right with G-d and man. They hope that if they repent of their sins, their names will be written in His Book of Life for another year.

I have the certainty of knowing my name is in there for good. Indelible ink--blood, rather, from an innocent Man. This is still an appropriate time to be sober and reflect on stuff, however. Perhaps I will post more on this later.

"Swingin' Along The Open Road"

Every time my family goes on a road trip, we inevitably sing this song:

Swingin' along the open road
Under a sky so clear
Swingin' along the open road
In the fall of the year
Swingin' along, swingin' along, swingin' along the open road
All in the fall of the year

My mom and dad harmonize; my sisters and I sing with gusto; and my brother rolls his eyes and refuses to sing at all. Good times.

I am not with my family this time...I'm with my "adopted" family, the transplants from MN with whom I currently live. But they are fairly musical. Perhaps I will teach them this song.

Perhaps not, actually. It's kind of annoying. :-D

The backseat is going to be crowded, what with me, Wombat1, and her sister T. (the one who sings with Luke Wood) all sitting back there. Of course, I will be in the middle. To quote a Grunt from Halo, "Little people first!!!"

We'll probably stop only for lunch and just drive straight through. By my calculations, our MN ETA is 9:00 p.m., a.k.a. "We'll Get There When We Get There, So Stop Asking If We're There Yet, Because We Obviously Aren't."

Update
The trip was fine. It didn't feel as long because I wasn't driving. We were a little crowded in the back seat, but no one complained about me sharing both footwells. Plus, I got to listen to T. sing a lot--once with a CD of a Luke Wood set in which she was the chorus leader, and later quietly singing to Jesus, I guess. We chatted a little about Jeremiah and intercession. T. has changed a lot since her teenage years. It's great to see who she is becoming.

We reached my house at 10:00. I had a family reunion of sorts--my "birth family" and my "adopted family" all crowded into our small entryway and petted the dogs. Chaska seemed happy to see me; Firefly was ecstatic. The human members of my family were glad that I'd come back, too. :-) After the adopted family had left, I took a short tour of our house. They've done a bit of redecorating. Looks very nice.

I think this every time I come home, but it's surreal to realize that life here goes on as usual. I was a part of this household for...well...all my life, and I created a big hole when I left for my internship. I somehow thought things here in MN wouldn't change. But my family has adapted to my absence, and now they have a new kitchen floor, new computers, and a few new vertical inches, in the case of my sister Shannon. Of course we still miss each other. Of course my "adopted family," however much I love them, can't replace my "birth family," and no one can take my place either.

I wish I could have my cake and eat it too (although why one would not eat cake when one held it in one's hands is beyond me--what else would you do, use it as a paperweight? Bronze it?). But my family will be here in MN for at least a few more years. I think I will be in KC for several years as well. Each side has had to adapt...life goes on.

So we make the most of my infrequent trips. Not so infrequent, actually; this is my third visit this year, and I already know I'm coming home for Hanukah/Christmas. (Well, more for Hanukah than for Christmas--you can put up a tree any day of the year, but latkes wait for no one!) At least I don't live that far away. 400+ miles isn't that bad of a trip. Plus, we have the phone, email, instant messaging, even (gasp!) letters and postcards to keep in touch. Not like the old days, where you packed your meager belongings into a small wagon and set off across the prairie, having only a dim idea of the dangers ahead and not knowing if you would ever see your family again.

Anyway. I don't have much planned for the next few days; almost no one RSVP'd for my dinner, so that's not a factor. I have to remember to email my friends in town and let them know I'm here. Otherwise I just plan to hang out with my family and celebrate my dad's birthday. That's all for now.

Signs you've been at IHOP too long

I am guilty of most of these, though not all...hey, I like to switch up my seating in the prayer room sometimes. Keeps life interesting.

• You wear your nametag everywhere


• You are not a prayer leader, but you are always drafted to cut off the line for rapid-fire intercession


• You are not on a worship team, but you know the code to the briefing room


• You are not a preacher by vocation, but the internships all call you when a guest speaker can't make it and no one else is available


• You sit in the same section of the prayer room every day...and usually it's the same seat. *cough* JUSTIN RIZZO *cough*


• You spend all of your free time on the coffee shop patio


• You stand along the back wall or in the fire exit when you don't want to engage in the prayer meeting


• You know how to eat while still fasting ("hey, there's peanut butter in this cookie--my Daniel fast remains unbroken!!")


• Misty Edwards actually knows your name


• You live at Herrnhut but you still drive to IHOP


• You shop at the Wal-Mart on State Line


• You take your Nalgene water bottle everywhere, even to Wal-Mart


• You can identify IHOP's senior leadership by their prayer language


• Your Bible is barely readable because of your five-color highlighting system


• You don't go shopping any more; you just eat at Higher Grounds

Party like it's 1999

On September 19th, 1999, the International House of Prayer had enough staff to go 24/7. We are celebrating the seventh anniversary with a three-day bash.

Sunday: Killer and I went to help set up for the huge picnic at a nearby park. It was drizzling/misting, windy, and cold. Not the ideal day for a picnic. But we got everything ready anyway and prayed it wouldn't rain later on.

The day did get slightly warmer and the sun even showed up. About 2,000 people descended on the park at 1:00 p.m. after the 10:00 church service. We devoured hot dogs, hamburgers, and assorted other dishes and generated an impressive amount of trash. At 2:15, the games started. Highlights include the kickball game (the Onething Office vs. the Sacred Trust Office), the football game (FSM students agains the IHOP senior leadership), the sumo wrestling with inflatable suits, and Spoons. Oh, yes, Spoons.

So Killer and I had signed up to play Spoons as soon as the games sign-up sheets were made available. (Literally. We were the first two names on there.) This is partly because we love Spoons. But mostly it was because Misty Edwards was running the Spoons game and Killer decided that we should take her down. We have this thing going on with her that started in our internship. I will have to relate the whole story later, what with the air guitar and the Texas "connect" and all. But anyway, Spoons was just the latest development in the "hey, let's go and and have fun bugging Misty" thing.

We went to the Spoons tent intending to play a little and then go watch another event. (The Diet Coke and Mentos launching contest sounded fun to me.) We ended up playing for an hour and a half straight. We had to leave for a break. Even I, the ultimate non-competitor, was getting too intense. But we came back to watch the last game. Highlights of Spoons include:

• Killer to Misty, numerous times: "You're goin' down!"


• Misty in reply: "I don't think so."


• The cheap plastic tablecloth we were playing on getting absolutely shredded by people frantically clawing for a spoon and, occasionally, coming away with only a handful of blue plastic


• The numerous "losers' tables"


• Me holding on for dear life to a spoon that was simultaneously claimed by a beefy guy; hilarity ensued as I was dragged across the table and fell off onto the ground, still holding onto the spoon, because I was darned if I was going to let it go--dangit!!!


• "Are you all right??? Wow...that was nobility!" -- Misty, after I tottered to my feet and dusted myself off


• The girl at the next table who screamed like the very bhean sidhe whenever she got a spoon


• The fact that we were playing with Uno cards, for some strange reason...and of course I couldn't resist and yelled, "UNO!!!!" during one game, causing most people to reflexively reach for spoons...I'm evil, I know


• Random person playing spoons: "I love how our hands are shaking and we're all hunched over the table."
  Killer, quite seriously: "I think I'm going to have a heart attack."


• Stephanie, Killer's friend, who played for over two hours straight and who was unanimously awarded the title of ultimate Spoons champion


• Misty, after she lost for the bazillionth time: "Blast it! BLAST IT!! Oh...darn!!!!!"

Good times, I say.

Monday: I had to work all day. But I put some of my stuff in the prayer room to save a seat for the special 4:00 meeting. Usually that's an intercession set, but today they did a bunch of different stuff. The original IHOPers got up on stage and told stories about IHOP's early days, most of them hilarious. There were poems, songs, and skits. The best skit was a "reenactment" of the senior leadership's meeting to decide how to celebrate the seventh-year anniversary. I have to give props to Matt Candler for an absolutely spot-on impression of Mike Bickle--the fist pump, the point-grin-and-wave to someone in the audience, the big grin with hands on hips, the interrupting and talking over everyone...absolutely perfect. Tied for second place: Ron Downing as Allen Hood (chomping gum and wearing the trademark white baseball cap) and Joel Sorge as Dwayne Roberts (with the big honkin' glasses and, every so often, a random "Amen").

We ate dinner around 6:00. When I say "we," I mean, "a few smart people who left the prayer room and stood in line at 5:30 p.m." The rest of us waited for about half an hour in line before we got our food. I sat with Killer, Stiles, and CJ (who recently returned to us). It was pretty chilly outside and we didn't enjoy ourselves all that much, I think...just snarfed our food and shivered a lot.

I intended to go home around 8:30 or so. Mike had started speaking after 8:00, but I was getting tired. As I was walking toward the shuttle, I heard someone say that they would be bringing out the desserts soon. And now comes the highlight of the day: after waiting for half an hour, I was one of the very first people in line. I am very proud of myself. I am never the first person in line. (We won't mention my occasional difficulty being on time for things.) I took a plateful of stuffage and sat with some friends for a few minutes, then headed home.

TuesdayI saved seats for Killer and CJ. They arrived an hour late to the special 4:00 service. They missed a ton of funny stories, most of which I can't recall off the top of my head but all of which went into my "IHOP lore" storehouse. I left the PR around 5:30 to get in line. Tonight the events staff had finally wised up and created more than one line for the food. (Yesterday the line started at the foyer's door, wrapped all the way around the corner, along the fence, along the curb, and back around the building to the food tent...I think it took some people an hour and a half to get to the food tent Monday night.) I found my adopted family and waited in line with them. We were surprised when we got to the food, and not in a good way. Sunday's main dish had been burgers and hot dogs, and Monday's was BBQ chicken, but Tuesday--the last day of the celebration and the only Tuesday this year that we were required to feast instead of fast--Tuesday's main dish was...wait for it...chicken-fried "steak," fake mashed potatoes, and apathetic green beans. I dared taste some, and as my taste buds writhed in disgust (well...okay...that's a little overboard), I realized that the food seemed familiar.

Yep, for our culminating feast, we had cafeteria food.

There was a little table off to the side that looked way better: pizza, potato chips, peaches, and probably other things that began with "p." I reached for a slice of pizza and was in the process of dropping it onto my plate when a stern-looking lady informed me that this was the kids' table. Oops. Well, I'd already gotten my grubby little hands all over this pizza, so I couldn't give it back. I had to eat it. So sad.

While we were eating, we missed the best skit of the day: Mike, Sliker, Misty, and a team demonstrating how far IHOP has come in developing its Harp and Bowl worship model. Wombat1 related it to us later: Sliker got on the mic and started groaning, "Kansas...I love Kansas...I want to pray for Kansas...I want Kansas things to happen in Kansas...ohhhh...Kansas...." The singers responded, "G-d, break into Chicago!" The musicians played louder and louder, oblivious that they were drowning out the intercessor, so Sliker started to shout, "KANSAS!!! KANSAS!!!" Mike finally cut him off and then they got all serious and started doing Harp and Bowl for real. Later we ran into Buckeye, who was a "singer" on that "set." She said, "I readjusted my chair twenty times, had a huge orange binder and a gigantic water bottle...I was supposed to sing heresy, but the music was so loud you couldn't even hear me." W

Killer and I decided to stand in line for the coffee shop, which was offering free drinks (one per person, but you could go through the line as many times as you wanted) starting at seven o'clock. We got in line at 6:30 and watched the feed from the prayer room on one of the big-screen TVs set up outside. We sang along when Grace Falkner's team did "Conquering Lion" and "Feels Like Coming Home." I remember sitting in Killer's car during that endless treasure hunt and Grace wanting to listen to those songs from "Simply Beautiful"; she was considering doing them on a set. It was slightly awkward to be listening to an artist's songs while said artist was sitting right next to me.

Anyway. An hour after we got in line, we got our drinks. The funny thing is that the six people who cut in front of us ("oh, So-and-So saved me a spot") all received their drinks after we did. Although that may have had something to do with Withit chewing out those six people...big props to her for doing so and for apologizing to us about the cutting.

After we got our drinks, we sat in the overflow seating and watched the prayer room. At 8:00, Mike started doing more of IHOP's history of prophetic promises. Both Killer and I planned to leave. We had had to listen to a twelve-hour CD set on that topic at the beginning of our internship, and most of us weren't eager to sit through the history again. But on our way out, we ran into Sunny, Mussels, CJ, and Heston. We ended up hanging out and talking by one of the gigantic outdoor space heaters in the parking lot. Occasionally I tuned in to what Mike was saying on the TV. He did indeed talk about the prophetic history and then started exhorting us on being faithful in prayer.

My friends and I went through the dessert line, hunting for Sky's cookies. After that we were ready to go home. Too much sugar, I think. I had two vanilla chai tea lattest, plus dessert; I was definitely ready to call it a night. Killer had OD'd on that green fluffy marshmallow stuff. Blech.

I don't think I had one serious thought during the whole celebration. I just partied. (As much as a socially awkard introvert can party.) My heart feels all dry and gritty because I haven't really been in the prayer room since last Wednesday. I am looking forward to prayer room tonight and to resuming our normal schedule. They're tearing down the tents in the parking lot this morning; soon there will be no sign of the celebration. We'll go back to our regularly-scheduled night and day prayer (not that we really stopped) with no distractions. That's one thing I like about this place--it's unchanging in that someone is always worshiping and praying in the PR. One of IHOP's mottos has always been "The fire on the altar will never go out." That was a weighty responsibility during the early days, when there was maybe one person in the PR at four in the morning. Now it is a reality that's greater than those who carry it out...and, thankfully, greater than my weaknesses and strengths.

Book

Currently I am in charge of editing a book at work. It's very challenging. I know I have the skills to pull this off; I just don't have the confidence yet. I do all right as long as I don't think about the fact that this book is going to be printed. I'd do even better if I didn't think about the fact that after the book is printed, it's going to be sold, and then people are actually going to buy it and read it and what if there's a mistake and I have to get it perfect except I don't have the time to get it perfect because although in the normal world of editing I would have had nine months to get this book in shape I actually only had eight weeks and now I only have four weeks to finish panic panic PANIC PANIC EAT CHOCOLATE!!!!

Seriously. I was craving chocolate all day today. I think there's probably a mathematical equation out there that shows the relationship of stress levels in women to their level of craving for chocolate. I came home after prayer room tonight and shoved a fistful of chocolate chips in my mouth. Oh, sooooo good...I am going to have to take some to work tomorrow. To, you know, help me cope. With my stress levels. Which will be high because we have our weekly Forerunner Media Group meeting tomorrow and that's an hour I don't have to spare. I have to write the copy for the book's back cover (which people are actually going to read and which may greatly influence their decision to buy the book--PANIC! PANIC!), and I have to look over three chapters and finalize their structure before we begin the heavy editing phase, and I have to help the author brainstorm on how to write or expand two more chapters and the introduction...

I love my job. Seriously, it is one of the best things that's happened to me in my entire career. But if you stop by tomorrow, you will probably find me eating some form of chocolate.

And if you're really my friend, if you really really love me, and if you know what's good for you...I mean, what's good for me--you know, for me to be productive--you'll bring me some.

Breaking Fasts on Buffalo Wings; Intelligence vs. Wisdom

You ingest nothing but water for a day, maybe more; with what food do you break your fast? Yogurt, to put healthy bacteria in your stomach? Some juice or a shake, to keep giving your body liquids? A salad, to keep things light?

The wise choice would be one of the above. The intelligent choice would be to choose buffalo wings.

So my prayer room team all decided to go out to a buffalo wing place off of Metcalf and 105th to break our Tuesday fast. It would keep me out past my bedtime; after recovering from a cold, the wise thing to do would be to go to bed. However (and this is a big factor in the equation), I really wanted to get to know my PR team outside of the prayer room. Also, we were saying goodbye to one of the team's two guys; he's leaving for Israel in a few days. So I decided the smart thing to do was to come and socialize.

I really didn't know the guy who was leaving that well...he was one of those people you know by sight in the PR and kinda like having around, even if you never talk to them outside of a small-group prayer session or something. He's a good intercessor; too bad he's leaving.

Although we had some delays in getting there, eventually most people showed up. The whole team had fun talking, eating, and using copious amounts of napkins. We all snarfed down, on average, 12 buffalo wings and probably used half as many napkins. I should've gone for a bit spicier sauce; the sweet BBQ was mildly (pun intended) disappointing.

I am starting to discover that I like these people. It's nice having an almost all-girls team; reminds me of core group back in the internship. I talked with several people a lot; I am happy that I'm making connections outside my little ex-intern circle.

There was an awkard (for me) moment during the meal. Leah Wood, who works in the Sacred Trust office (seems like most of my PR team works there--Katty, Leah, and Natasha all work in that office; they make up about half of its staff), said, "So, I hear you're a genius!"

I said, after almost choking on my water, "What? No, I am not!" Every eye turned toward me.

"Well, I saw your name on an operations staff list, so I asked Natasha what you did, and she said you're an editor at Forerunner Books." Quietly impressed looks were directed my way. I squirmed.

"Yeah, it's, uh, an okay job."

"And I hear you have a degree? What's it in?"

"Uh, writing." I could tell they were expecting me to say more, but I was relucant to do so. It wasn't that I don't like talking about my job (I love it)...but they kept staring at me. I prefer to remain hidden, thank you very much. The conversation soon moved onto other things. Hallelujah.

I was thinking about this on the way home. It is odd to be considered a smart person; tonight wasn't the first time I've been called that here at IHOP. I don't consider myself exceptionally smart--enough to do well in college, yes, but different smarts are often needed for everyday life. I don't have the best people smarts or shopping smarts; what I am good at is adding or removing commas and such. I am grateful that the L-rd created me with writing and editing affinities. However, I know there's a lot more out there.

It comes down to this: life wisdom is key, but I want spiritual wisdom most of all. My degree isn't going to be worth anything in eternity, although it's opened doors for me. My small understanding of martial arts can't come with me whenever I shuffle off. And knowing how to define a restrictive vs. nonrestrictive clause is not going to get me any eternal crowns. I have knowledge; I do not have wisdom. I would rather someone look at me walk by and remark, "That is a wise person," than comment on the IQ G-d gave me. Not that I resented Leah bringing it up (being the subject of conversation was uncomfortable for personal reasons, not for the way she talked to me; Leah seems both awesome and tactful). Far from it. I just want to be known for wisdom and for an excellent spirit, like Daniel was.

At least I am in a good place for the pursuit of wisdom. Goodness knows, I heard Proverbs 2 every week for six months...I know I am doing the right thing--I am running after the knowledge of G-d with all that I have.

Is that pursuit smart? Not by the world's standards. Is it a wise choice? I believe so; eternity will prove my point.

Onething is coming

I remember coming to my first Onething conference in December 2003. I had my shields up; years of seeming silence from G-d had damaged me in ways I didn't even understand. That first night, I looked around at the thousands of young adults with hands raised in praise and then looked at my own cold heart. I felt hopeless and even skeptical. I could not believe that so many people existed who hungered like I did, deep down, to drink from wells of living water. I could not believe what the teachers and the worship were speaking to me: that I had a wrong view of G-d and that Jesus actually enjoyed me in my tiny, weak, but sincere desire for Him. Surely they were wrong; surely I was right that I was spiritually lazy and would never find what I was looking for.

I didn't account for Him. After a few days I found I could not defend against this gentle Being. He wooed me carefully, so carefully, and began to convince me (against my better judgment) that I could actually know Him now--that He loved me right where I was and never looked at anyone else when He thought of me.

In short, I got ruined that first year. I couldn't settle for what my life had been like previously. I had been used to reaching for Him and never touching. Now my hunger had been filled a little, but that just left me wanting more. So I pursued more. You probably know my story if you've read this blog for long--two years of waiting as I forced myself to finish college, and then returning to Kansas City, completing my internship, and most recently getting on staff.

Some days I look back on the path He set me on the day I said, "Yes, I'll go to that conference; maybe it'll be fun," and I look at where I am now, and I don't think gratitude is enough. I'm far from perfect and still very immature, but we've started on a journey, He and I, and I am finally able to hear what I'd kept from myself with wrong views of Him and wrong self-perceptions: the voice of the Bridegroom, saying, "You are all fair, my love, and there is no spot in you!"

So I need to start praying for the teenagers who are where I was three years ago. The Onething 2006 conference is four months away, and the L-rd is preparing their hearts already. I can't wait for them to meet Jesus like they've never met Him before. (And for returning attenders: to re-encounter Him and stoke the fire.) It's not that IHOP's speakers are so amazing or that our worship is out of this world, although I do love our speakers and worship teams (for the most part). It's that the conference creates an atmosphere of hunger, of kindred spirits, and of heights to reach for with everything in us.

Mary of Bethany knew that one thing that was truly necessary: to sit at Yeshua's feet (to be in His presence and be taught by Him; also expressed in David's cry of Psalm 27:4). She pursued eternity while He walked on this earth. We can still do what she did. This is what Paul is talking about in 1st Corinthians 2: a choice that is not earthly wisdom but which will have eternal value.

I believe some are coming who will have a great time, goof off with their youth groups, cry and dance and pray, and go back to their homes only a little affected or a little challenged. But those are in the minority. I believe still more are coming whose hunger cannot be filled during the few days of this conference. These are young men and women who will choose the one thing for life. Perhaps they've already made that decision and need some help finding their way; perhaps all they understand is that they burn and don't know what to do about it. Either way, they are going to get "jacked up," as one of my friends would say. G-d wants to be known, and He made us to know Him and to live in fellowship with Him. "This is eternal life," said Yeshua, who knew exactly to whom He was talking: a group of young people who wanted to be with Him forever and who had given up everything to be with Him.

Yes, this year is going to be good. I will be working the conference and attending a little, so my experience will be different. Plus, I have heard most of the messages before. But I still love the excitement of Onething; I think it'll be multiplied for me in knowing that I am going to help get the message out to these young adults. We will start praying for them during our intercession meetings within the next few months. I am also working on a project at my job which, I think, the kids at Onething will love. Can't say too much at this point; maybe more in the future.

Anyway. Want to come? It'll mess you up for sure. Plus, it'll be fun. How often during your life will you get a chance to skip those meaningless parties and, instead, pray and worship on New Year's Eve in the company of ten thousand people who want that one thing? Click here for more information. (Watch the promo vid. That's Luke Wood leading the pack, one of my favorite worship leaders. And the young man with the baseball cap, glasses, and white T-shirt is our very own Mussels, ex-intern, current FSM student, and crazy about Jesus.

Prophetic ministry

Wow. It's been, like, a whole week since I posted. Whatever is the world coming to?

I've just been working and going to the prayer room, mostly. Yesterday Killer and I had our training for the prophetic rooms. We were supposed to be observing, but they were short a few people and so we ended up working instead of shadowing.

I should tell you more about prophesying. IHOP's model is based on 1 Cor. 14:1-3: "Pursue love, and desire spiritual gifts, but especially that you may prophesy. [...] He who prophesies speaks edification and exhortation and comfort to men." We don't give directional words, like who to marry, where to move, what job to take, etc. We don't give negative words; we give positive ones. For instance, if I get a word of knowledge that a guy we're prophesying over is struggling with an addiction, I wouldn't emphasize the darkness and sin and struggle. Instead I would say, "The L-rd is calling you to holiness and purity, to be a man of clean hands and a pure heart." I think we want people to leave as "prisoners of hope" (Zech. 9:11-12) instead of prisoners of despair. Our mission is to build up and encourage the people who come to us. We never forget that these people are the Bride, and they should be treated as such.

As for the actual process of prophesying...if there's one thing I learned from each of the five-week prophetic classes that I had during my internship, it's that prophecy is easy. Anyone can do it. You only have to believe that G-d loves to bless His own and speak His heart over them, and He lets us be the vessel through which He speaks. It's pretty cool...some days I just relax and quiet my mind, and almost immediately I get Scriptures and pictures and words of knowledge for whoever I am praying for. For instance, last Tuesday at the end of the 8:00 set, everyone in the PR was invited to pray for the Onething Interns. I went up, of course, and so did many of my friends (all former interns; we couldn't pass up this opportunity to pray over the next batch of OTI). Odd how I was in that position just months ago, standing there hoping someone would encourage me...and now I got to give the encouragement. I did, too. I got an encouraging word for every girl I prayed for, and it was so easy because I could feel His heart over each one.

Of course, there are the other days when my thoughts and doubts get in the way. I totally trust that the Holy Spirit is always speaking; I just need to learn how to consistently relax and listen to what He says. I think that the prophecy rooms will be good for me. I'll learn how to hear Him on a regular basis and not let my agendas and feelings get in the way.

Back to my story. It was interesting, if a bit disconcerting, to go from informal prophesying to being on a team with people. We had briefing beforehand and we all prayed for each other and for the people coming to the prophetic rooms. Then we split up into teams of three and each took over a separate side room in the prayer room. We brought the people in by threes. At the beginning of every session, my team leader briefly went through 1 Cor. 14:1,3 and explained our model. We took 15-20 minutes and prophesied into tape recorders, one for each person. At the end of the session we prayed again and gave each of them their prophecy tape. Then we gave them feedback sheets and sent them off, and it was time for the next batch.

My team did 13 people altogether over two hours, I think. I jumped right in with the prophesying and praying. I was a little dry and having trouble relaxing, but I figure this session was like priming the pump. Next week might be easier. Killer said it went about the same for her, so I think we were thrown off by the weirdness of prophesying within a structure. Prophesying on demand is kind of strange, too. I didn't feel pressured to prophesy over everyone, although I asked the L-rd to give me something for each person and I think He did. We are not to force a prophecy if we don't get anything...but I figure if I stay on a prophecy team, I should be prophesying consistently.

Killer and I felt exhausted afterward. After our team debriefing was done, we went home and ate, then hung out with Hotness. Some accidents occurred, including Hotness insisting that I trim the uneven ends of her hair (which I butchered--I am so sorry!). Hotness went to the PR and Killer and I went to Shiloh. We sat on a bench by the pond in growing darkness and talked. I think we are both relieved that we are on the same prophetic team and can commiserate; it's kind of like having a workout buddy, you know? Anyway. We talked about this and that...the social awkardness of the internship...who we really are...and stuff like that...and swatted at bugs. It was a good end to a long day.