Why I Love the Prophetic: A Personal Testimony
Why I Love the Prophetic
On July 3, while shopping, a family walked past me in the parking lot. As they did, I heard the Holy Spirit speak to me about the son. He is a tall 6’9,” as I came to find out. The Holy Spirit, in a nut shell, said that He was going to give the son a platform and a microphone and make him His mouthpiece. And when He did—when that day came that Jesus elevated him—the son was to remember it was the Lord Jesus Christ who opened that door for him. And when that day came, he was to lift up Jesus even as Jesus is the One who lifted him up.
As I shopped in our local Walmart I didn’t see them even one time. After 40 minutes, I was ready to leave. As I talked to the Lord about what to do, they passed right in front of me. I nonchalantly followed them to the back of the store. When I approached them, I told them that I was a Christian and that when they passed me in the parking lot I heard the Holy Spirit speak to me about their son. I then asked if it was ok to talk to him. They were elated and gave their permission.
The son (I cannot remember his name—terrible, I know) is 17, and as stated above, is 6’9” tall. I asked if they knew who Jesus is, and they assured me they did. So I told them the above message. They were all so thankful and explained that they were from SF and were in the area to see a specialist for their son’s eye, which was a bit bloodshot. They welcomed prayer for their son’s eye. We had a great time hugging and laughing together right there in Walmart. And I left.
When I was in line, checking out, the mom and son came in behind me. “Oh there she is right in front of us.” They explained they’d wanted to see me again. The father came up and tried to pay for my groceries—thankfully I’d already put my card in the little machine. When I was done checking out the father and I chatted while the mom and son were checking out. He kept trying to give me money and I kept saying “please don’t make me take your money.” Both of us had tears streaming as he kept trying to give me money and I kept telling him that isn’t the way it works and that I could not take it. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him stuff some money in my purse. I grabbed the wadded up money and asked him to please, if he wanted to do something with the money, to ask Jesus what to do with it, then do it. He just was so thankful that he wanted to do something.
We hugged and loved on each other then went our separate ways. None of us were even thinking about our race (they are African-American and me, white) or political views—right there in the midst of Walmart, we were experiencing the Kingdom of God where we are family.
