Prophet

Once upon a time there were people, a few, who called me a prophet.

And I knew some people who were being held up as prophets, who would bring messages to people from god.  I saw as they seemed to grasp for some kind of fame and basked when people gathered to hang on their every utterance.  And sometimes I could almost see the sleight of hand, the misdirection, the parlour trick that felt to me like a slp in the face to the truth of God.

Here is the thing; I do have a basic belief that if you listen the one who is light and love that I have come to know as God will sometimes speak or show or, I don't have words for that enfolding of holiness.

And sometimes I would be asked to pray for someone and words of prayer would come that I did not know I would pray, they were just the outpouring of being in that awareness of God.

And I was asked by a person In Authority what I was doing to work on my gift of prophecy.  This confused me.  How was I supposed to "work" on this?  I was a wife and a homeschooling mom and busy and fighting depression and trying to make ends meet and crying out to know more of God during the cracks and crevasses of my time.

And feeling weak and dull and trapped.

How could I work on anything.

Over time I backed away.  I backed away from people who set themselves as godly authority.  I backed away from people who worked at trying to prove God loves them best.  I backed away from people who thought they could tell the amount of sin in your life by the amount of prosperity, beauty, and status you held.

But I didn't back away from that being that I know as God.

And I turn again and again and again to love and light and the enfolding presence.

And I ask again and again and again, what is the path, the next turn, where is the center in this moment?

And I'm still sometimes surprised by the answer.