From the Muck to the Mighty; My Journey with Jesus

  I love spending time in worship and prayer. They are two of my favorite ways to spend time with the Lord, behind time reading the word. Tonight as we were worshipping I felt the urge to fall apart at His feet on more than one occasion. I am in awe of His presence. I am in wonder at the way He orchestrates everything. Tonight during worship I heard the Lord speak clearly. It’s time for the mouthpiece of the body to rise up, Ash. My people aren’t speaking, their tongues are bound. It was a conviction I recieved and had to repent of myself before I could write this out. I’ve been withdrawn and spending time with Him in private but I’ve also been doing fewer videos and blogging a lot less lately. Not because He isn’t speaking, giving me visions, or moving in my life, but because I have been putting bandaids on an old wound and expecting it to heal.  I’m extremely uncomfortable with what the Lord has me doing with this ministry that He’s given me. I don’t get to heal in private. ...

  Sometimes you sit in the secret place and the Lord speaks. Sometimes the Holy Spirit falls on you and wrecks you in your car with no warning as you’re listening to an old school worship CD. Yesterday, on my way home I was overwhelmed by the Goodness of God. I found myself happy and full of joy, the same way I do in retreats or in worship. I pulled the visor down, looked in the mirror and began to cry. I looked in that mirror not knowing who this version of myself was. Where she has been all these years. “Lord, I don’t know this me” and unfamiliar territory can be a scary place even when you know it’s the safest place you’ve ever been.  I was full of a joy and peace that I have never known in my entire life. One not dependent on circumstances or other people but on a Lord that never fails. The Lord that counts our tears. The Lord that loves me, set me free, and instructs me to do the same for others. As I continued to cry these freeing, happy, decades of wound healing tears, ...

  Where are you, Ash? I heard the Lord speak. I got up, not knowing exactly why. I stood there in front of my mirror looking, not knowing what I was looking for. Listening and not hearing anything else. All of a sudden I felt the fire of God consume me, in a way that hasn’t happened to me in a very long time. I felt every part of my flesh burn in this all consuming fire. I felt my skeleton collapse onto a bed of ashes. I hit the floor in a thud like I was stuck inside my skull, every bone of my body beneath me in a disconnected pile. I couldn’t move, I couldn’t do anything. I was just stuck there. It felt like time was standing still but I was stuck in a panic of trying to get my bones back together. Trying to think them together, trying to pray them together. Kind of hard to pray without a jaw and a tongue. It was like I was stuck frozen inside my head with only my thoughts. I was helpless. Helpless on top of a pile of ashes and bones.  Can these bones live, Ash? “Of course t...