Sunday, October 13, 2013

What does it mean to be a Prophet of The Most High God? This article may help describe this lifestyle.





The Prophetic Savant
by Chip Brogden



(*The use of the male pronoun in this writing is for convenience only.
We mean no partiality to our brothers, and no disrespect to our sisters.)
The prophetic savant is a person afflicted with a heavenly autism,
making him nearly incapable of normal relations with those around him.
Accused of being aloof, cold, and distant,
he is apt to hide himself from people,
withdrawing into a world of his own.
He never seems to be all “there”.
Even if he forces himself to come down to Earth for a moment,
those around him may have the sense
that there is an unspoken dialogue
going on somewhere inside of him,
a secret communion carried on beneath the surface
that never allows him to be fully “in the moment”.
How do we explain this? As a prophetic savant he sees, hears,
and relates to the world differently than the rest of the population.
They have not seen what he has seen;
they have not heard what he has heard.
And so he finds very little camaraderie,
very little sympathy or understanding,
no one with whom he can open his heart and share his soul,
because he no longer speaks the same language,
and they no longer speak his.
Of course, he may have surface-level exchanges with anyone:
he is approachable, not haughty,
or high-minded. He may even be personable and likable.
Yet there is something so other-worldly in his demeanor
that he is more often frightening than friendly,
in spite of his best efforts. He is a spiritual autistic,
and no matter how hard you try to know him,
he is generally unknowable,
and to a certain degree, he resists all attempts to know him.
If a prophet is anything, he is extra-terrestrial – above the Earth.
He walks the Earth with others, but he is not of the Earth.
He is from beyond; he is from above.
If we trace his history we will find that
he may or may not have had a normal childhood.
He may or may not have come through extraordinary experiences.
But at some point in his life, either as a child,
or as a young adult, or as an old man,
something from another realm broke through the thin membrane
between Heaven and Earth
and took hold of him.
It may have been a burning bush,
or a Voice crying out to him from beyond the veil,
or a Heavenly Vision which brought him briefly into contact
with something and Someone that he could not completely fathom.
However it happened, for one moment at least,
the clouds parted and the veil was rent,
and he saw something that is unseeable;
he heard something that is unhearable;
Heaven itself was opened up to him,
and he saw into another world.
The thing he saw and heard now burdens him
like a mantle that has been draped over his shoulders.
He feels its weight, for it is with him day and night,
whether he is eating or drinking, working or resting.
It is the impression that everything around him is a lie,
and what he has seen and heard is the Truth, and this Truth is not static,
but it is living, growing,
and increasing within him from the day it comes to him in the form of a seed.
For a long time he struggles to find words
and vocabulary to express the inexpressible.
He cannot explain why he feels the need to try and express it,
but for some inexplicable reason something drives him to open his mouth,
or take up his pen, and make it known.
Whatever it is, it will not permit him to savor it or keep it to himself,
and it seems intent on coming to the surface
and interrupting the normal course of his life.
This process can be frustrating and painful,
so much so that he may give up several times,
content to simply walk in what he has seen and heard
and leave it at that.
But try as he might,
he cannot run away from what he has seen and heard,
and he cannot deny the compulsion to bring it forth.
On the one hand he cries out for a “normal” life,
while on the other hand he knows
he cannot deny what has been revealed to him.
When he does achieve some modest success
in articulating something of Heaven he is pleased for a time,
but soon grows impatient with it,
and eventually is dissatisfied with it altogether,
because it cannot do justice to what he has seen and heard.
And so the process begins again,
the continual search for words to more perfectly express
what he is trying to communicate
(and a subtle fear in the back of his mind that he may never be able to adequately express it),
which leads him to invent words which may have never before existed,
or to look for Spirit-inspired words in some unknown tongue
that can be translated into something others can understand.
The prophets of old correctly called it the “burden of the Lord”,
for it is like a woman who must live the rest of her life being in perpetual labor,
delivering the same child over and over again.
What relief there is only comes in discharging the burden,
but that is not to say it ever really leaves:
it merely allows the prophet time to catch his breath
until the next contraction doubles him over again.
The burden is with him the rest of his life, and he never fully discharges it.
Even when he tries to be disobedient to the Heavenly Vision
and flees from the presence of the Lord
he is pursued and hunted down like some kind of a wild animal
who has gotten loose, knowing it is only a matter of time
before he is captured again.
The Voice never leaves him, the Vision never lets him go.
When he refuses to speak
then the fire which is already kindled only burns hotter,
until he ends up doing what he has resisted doing all along,
just to relieve himself of the unbearable tension and inward pressure.
He cannot extinguish or quench the fire no matter what he does,
he can only be obedient and find temporary relief,
until the next word comes, and then off he goes.
He may beg God to send someone else,
and may protest his inability to speak, or to write.
But he is already ruined for anything else,
and even when he denies the Lord
Who called him and returns to his former occupation,
it is all dull and lifeless,
and he meets with nothing but frustration and failure.
There is no way to escape it.
He knows he is called to something Higher,
even when he is clinging with everything he has to something Lower.
Like a wild horse, he resists the dealings of the Lord
and must be broken before he will obey.
Eventually he learns not to resist the Lord, but to cooperate with Him.
He becomes pliable and bendable in order to survive.
His very life now is bound up with what he has seen and heard.
He cannot be disobedient to the Heavenly Vision,
and if it means he dies, then he dies.
If it means a renunciation of everything he once believed,
then he renounces it – reluctantly at first, then cheerfully.
If it means suffering the loss of all things, then he lets them go.
Over time the one who has seen and heard
becomes the very essence of what he has seen and heard.
The Man becomes the Message.
He bears the Testimony in himself,
and becomes one with it.
He needs no preparation to speak; indeed,
preparation does nothing to help the message he brings,
and it often gets in the way.
His whole life is the preparation,
and since he is the Message, it is with him constantly.
He can no more separate himself from the Message
than he can separate his head from his body.
If there is an “On/Off” switch then it was long ago turned on
and then disabled so that it can never be turned off again.
After many seasons of God’s dealings he finally perceives
that this is what the Lord has sought for all along,
not just to GIVE him a Message, but to MAKE him a Message;
to gain for Himself a Messenger and capture him completely,
embossing the Message into his very being.
And so he goes about his daily business, constantly haunted by that Voice,
torn between the menial task at hand
which calls for his physical and mental exertion,
and the Higher Calling which seeks his undivided attention.
He knows he should do all things, great and small, as “unto the Lord”.
But he also knows that Heaven and Earth
are locked in mortal combat over him
while he stands there in the middle, torn between the two,
desiring to depart the Earth altogether and be with Christ,
but knowing that it is more profitable for his brethren if he remains.
Heaven calls him to rise up,
but Earth tells him to keep his feet firmly planted.
His heart is constantly breaking and longing to go,
to ascend,
to rise up,
to stop seeing through a dark glass,
and see face to face,
without the distraction of the natural,
the fleshly, the temporal,
because he knows the Earth is not his home.
Yet he struggles with the fact that Earth is where he must live and work.
This accounts for why he may sometimes seem difficult to be around.
As a savant he possesses insight and skill which others do not possess.
But it is a gift, not anything of himself, nothing of which he could boast of.
If you were to ask him if he considers this to be a blessing,
he would probably say it is more like a curse,
because it sets him apart from others
even when he tries his best to be hidden and to blend in.
He cannot read the Scriptures as others do,
for after only a few verses
the Heavens are opened up to him again and he is lost in its depths.
A single passage may keep him occupied for months
as Heaven unfolds it to him,
and he cannot tear himself away from it.
His preaching is affected,
because he cannot decide in advance what he will say,
and even when he would like to bring forth something new and exciting,
he usually ends up saying the same thing, like, “Repent!”
He often does not say what he wants to say,
and does not say it in the way he would like to say it.
If he wants to be serious, he finds himself laughing.
And when he wishes to be friendly,
he finds himself screaming at the top of his voice
to a startled congregation of people,
who wonder how this fellow was ever allowed access
to their inner sanctum in the first place.
When he leaves a place he almost never sees the result of his labor,
and only eternity can reveal the true significance of what was said.
For now, it is all hidden, and he has to live with the fact t
hat his fruitfulness will never be measured in terms that human beings,
including himself, can see and appreciate.
He cannot go through the motions of religion like most mortals.
It is a dead, shallow thing to him
because it cannot compare to the reality
of what he has already experienced.
He finds it difficult to listen to another person preach
when he knows they have not yet ascended to the heights
nor plumbed the depths that he has already navigated.
And when he tries to lead them into these heights and depths himself
he is often misunderstood or rejected altogether.
So either he attends the meeting and suffers in silence,
or stays home and suffers in solitude; but either way, he suffers.
His seeing is affected by a sort of “spiritual dyslexia”.
While others view things from a one or two dimensional viewpoint,
he sees them through several dimensions at once
– forward, backward, reverse, upside-down,
right-side up: life and death, light and dark, Spirit and flesh,
Heavenly and Earthly – which often puts him at odds
with his more pragmatic and doctrinally-correct brethren.
He is so at one with what he has seen that he speaks of it
as having already happened,
because he has, in essence, already experienced it and lived it.
It is the Prophetic Tense,
which calls those things that be not as though they were.
In his world, the world of the Spirit, they exist already.
We call it “prediction” because we cannot yet see it with our natural eyes,
but he simply stands outside of Time and views Past and Future as one unbroken and continuous Present.
His hearing is affected
so that he is increasingly sensitive to his surroundings,
even though it seems as if he is not paying attention.
He is listening, but he is listening inwardly.
He no longer trusts his natural ears,
because the Heavenly Voice and the inner witness are more reliable.
Thus, he is able to hear God speaking,
while the rest of the crowd says,
“It thundered!” or “It was an angel!”
He is also able to hear when God is not speaking,
and does not get carried away with the multitudes
who claim to speak, see, and hear things from God
when they have not heard or seen anything from Heaven.
He cannot bear to listen to them.
His concentration is affected in such a way
as to make him appear obstinate and unyielding to others.
The truth is that he is actually quite flexible and pliable before the Lord,
but before man he is as solid and impenetrable as a rock.
No amount of persuasion or argument from man will move him
– but the slightest touch from the Lord will bring him to his knees.
Having discovered the One Thing that is needed,
he will tenaciously and ruthlessly
shun the “many things” which crowd in to seek his attention,
for he sees everything else as a distraction.
Indeed, he is quite willing to sacrifice the good in favor of the holy.
And when the Lord has him focused on a particular thing
he is as a beam of light fastened upon a singular point
until everything melts before it.
Even his praying is affected,
for he can no longer pray as he wills and for what he wants.
He seemingly has no will of his own.
Instead the Heavenly Voice bids him to pray with a Heavenly perspective,
and all too often the Heavenly perspective is at odds with the Earthly perspective.
So when his brothers and sisters pray for blessing and increase,
he finds himself praying for destruction and decrease;
and when they are resisting and praying against something,
he finds himself asking God to perform the very thing
the rest of the world is against.
To the rest of the world, the autistic savant is a bit of a retarded genius,
an unfortunate mixture of idiocy and brilliance,
caught up in a world of its own.
The prophetic savant bears a similar stigma.
But if you engage him at all,
you soon discover that he sees all of this as absolutely normal;
the way it is supposed to be.
He no longer wishes for a normal life,
because the life he has now IS normal:
he has lost his own life in exchange for a new life.
He lives in the Heavenlies while he walks on the Earth.
He does not think of himself as special,
as anything other than a regular person,
but often wonders aloud why others cannot see what he has seen
when it is all so self-evident and plain.
To him, maybe; but the rest of us are blinded by the Light he exudes without knowing it.

Saturday, October 5, 2013

Angelic Choreography Scribed By Carol Nemitz

Angelic Choreography written 9-30-13
Scribed by Carol Nemitz
To the tune of Ocean = Where Feet May Fail (Reloaded)

Every entryway is laced with bells and butterflies
Lining the outside of the doors
As they are waiting to get in
Inside and back of stage:
Throne Room: before the Huge Throne of Father God:
Very thin layer of cloud covering the stage
Lights below this layer give the effect of
Lightning flashing through this layer
As the sounds at the beginning of the music hit the cloud
Angels with wings come in walking a slow dance
Gracefully floating as they walk across the floor
Alternately lifting bowls up and down
The bowls have smoke trickling down the edges
Like dry ice but no light in them yet
The angels are walking slowly to the music
Expression on faces very serious
Every so often a spotlight shines on angels playing huge bells in the background
Like behind the audience (cloud of witnesses) or to one side
No colors just white and light
The footsteps of the angels glow and stay on the floor a ways behind them
Everything else is dim light fading into darkness
The throne is bright but not too bright just an impression in the wall behind the stage
A figure appears before the Throne where the angels are heading
Can’t see who it is until the angels get closer
As soon as first angel arrives under the dark shadow of the figure;
Like a man on a ladder with His robe covering the ladder
A spot light shines on the figure:
IT IS JESUS as HIGH PRIEST!
From holding the bowls in front to lifting high as they pass Jesus who is much taller
Jesus dressed as High Priest with the ephod lit up
With bright colors sparkling in the stones on His Breastplate
(Like the ones that happen later)
Jesus fills each bowl with fiery incense from a golden pitcher
Each angel swoons as He fills their bowl
Because it just got heavy with glory
Each reacts differently: some spin, some almost fall,
All get more alive and more animated
No more serious expressions, but laughter, rejoicing, ecstasy
Instantly a spot light comes out of each bowl as soon as Jesus fills them
Now we have golden glowing incense on fire in the bowls lighting up the angels’ faces
Light shooting straight up into the air from each bowl as a pillar of golden light
The lights shine on the ceiling
Spotlighting the bubbling clouds that are filling the ceiling
Sometimes the floodlights hit the angels’
Faces full of smiles and passion and wonder
They are carrying God’s most favorite treasure
So their expression tells the story:
The bowls are filled and overflowing
With the Holy Spirit lead prayers of the saints
Prayers in unison with the prayers of Jesus
That are in unison with Father’s Heart!
The cloud of incense from each bowl
Swirling in and out of the golden spotlight coming out of each bowl
Smoke rising from each one towards the ceiling as a pillar
Smoke pillars sometimes wafting in a breeze towards the Father’s Throne
Suddenly spotlights shine on the walls around the Throne
White clouds begin streaming down the outer walls either side of the Throne
These waterfalls of smoke flow down and fill the stage
Because the bowls have filled the ceiling so full
That it starts coming back down the walls
As soon as the deluge of clouds hit the stage
Enter the fragrance (make it Father God’s Favorite)
Wafts still going up out of the bowls
Towards The Father as the light shines up like a pillar from each one
Now the bowls’ light changes
With sparkles and sound waves of circles of light and white smoke going up
Circles of sound clouds looking like smoke rings
Begin going up in cadence with the bells resonance
Out of the bowls
Angels Slowly dancing with glowing bowls
Begin a circle dance; then alternate reaching bowls in; then bowls out
In cadence and all making the same moves around the circle
Then change to alternating every other one in and out
Then all the bowls stretch to the center lifted high
The bowls become ONE BOWL in their up reached hands
Now the dancing angels are circling slowly holding up the giant bowl
The huge cloud coming out of it
Begins to look like an upside down tornado going upwards to the Throne
The circle of angels begin carrying the bowl up some circular stairs
Still slowly spinning as they ascend
The words of the song are singing about going deeper but they are ascending
Break to spotlight on angels playing bells again
When the eye is brought back to the dancing angels:
The bowl has disappeared and so have the stairs
Angels are floating in midair
Making the outline shape of a heart with their wings and garments in the air
They begin beating their wings in and out
Making the heart look like it is beating
With the movements of their wings and garments
The smoke puffs through the opening of the heart with each beat
Though you cannot see it,
You realize the bowl is inside the Heart pouring forth a flow of clouds
No colors yet; just white and a slight dimming and brightening with each heart beat
A door suddenly appears inside the outline of the Heart;
As the old worn wooden double door opens inside the heart
Enter tiny Bells and Butterflies glowing inside the waves and flow of smoke
That pours forth
Sound of creaking
The Door that is opening has been closed a very long time
I believe the wooden door is sapphire blue,
But it is battered and beaten looking
With old hinges and latches that look ancient
Tiny sparks of color emerge inside the flow
With the entrance of the bells and butterflies
All coming out of the beating heart of The FATHER
More color, thicker and thicker until the whole flow is full of color
As the flow begins to pour down
A spotlight shines on a globe on the stage
The is the earth appearing on the stage directly below the smoky waterfalls
Coming from the heart
The flow falls upon the earth like a waterfall of colors
Each beat of the bells
Makes another beat of the heart and another huge wave of smoke
Like a waterfall flowing down from the double blue doors
At first the waterfall of color is flowing around the edges of the globe
Transforming the blanket of white clouds on the stage
To growing circles of color, lights, sparkles etc.
Then the flow of colors goes into the earth saturating it
Starting with just the waters of the earth turning colors
Then the whole planet land and seas turn all the same bright swirls of color
Meanwhile the bells and butterflies
Have poured over the earth and onto the stage
These spots of brilliant color sparkling in the white clouds
Begin converging and tightening their circling flight
To make rings tight around the earth like Saturn
Slowly turning around the spinning earth
Like an army of tiny angels dancing the dance
The same dance the big angels danced earlier
Then another ring forms to make the earth look like an atom
The planet looks like it is completely covered with tiny LED lights
The earth begins to swirl with colorful and rhythmic lights
The rings around the globe are spinning
Like a million tiny angels but they are butterflies and bells
The heart above in the air continues to beat as waves of color and smoke pour out
Meanwhile on the stage larger and larger angels
Begin to appear standing up out of the blanket of clouds
But these do not have wings
They join and expand the spinning rings like Saturn around the earth
The doors slowly begin to close again
The creaking sounds are heard
The final flow coming out of the closing doors turns bright white
No more colors just bright white light pouring out
The flow is waning as the doors close
When the doors are finished closing
The doors back off and disappear into the darkness
The bright white heart still beats
The last of the flow slowly makes the way down to the earth
The last of the flow glows whiter and whiter
 Until the whole design across the earth is bright light and just white
Suddenly spot light on the bells angels again
This time they are half immersed in the clouds of incense
With a few dots of color in them
Upon looking back at the stage
All the rings of angels/cloud of witnesses stand still
With arms stretched upwards and fingers extended
They are all looking up at the heart and staying stationary/frozen
As time has ended
As the main music ends
The heart made of big angels floats down
To the white bright earth that is no longer spinning
No more bells and butterflies
Just a white ball of light
The heart envelopes the white light earth
And takes it inside the opening of the heart
As the heart swallows up the planet earth
The earth is now covered with the wings and garments of the Heart angels
The heart flies back up to the same point it was earlier
The earth is no longer visible
The heart begins to travel far away quickly
Until it is a streak of light across the star filled sky
Then disappears with an exit that looks like the star trek ship
Going into hyper drive into outer space
A bright supernova way in the distance and then nothing
Silence and darkness other than the outline of the Throne

Please read this with the music in the background.
This music is so anointed!
Ocean = Where Feet May Fail (Reloaded)
Angelic Choreography written 9-30-13
Scribed by Carol Nemitz


 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r7c2F5sgJGA&feature=share&list=PL_yE3-fip6cgUxKxh38HPUOVIkbUP4AAJ