Month: May 2021

MODESTO IS GOING TO BE SO DIFFERENT.

The tent has not just been holy ground—it has been ground-zero for life-altering miracles. As amazing as each Living Proof Tent Crusade has been―Modesto will be different.

Why do I believe this? Let me tell you why. California is a heartrending tragedy. People are abandoning it in droves. Every aspect of any quality life has been devastated here. California is not just suffering, there is a palpable grief that hangs like a heavy cloud over the people.

Now, nearly 2 million voters have signed the petition to recall Governor Newsom. His statement today about movement to have him recalled has only served to further solidify public opinion against him.

With his classic smugness, he insulted the 2 million signers and dismissed them as being nothing but rightwing loons and leftover Trump supporters who hate the mask. He is counting on the blindly loyal Democrat-base to forgive his towering failure and vote the party line. Never mind that 37% of those who signed the recall petition are Democrats.

This is the dismissive arrogance that got him into hot water in the first place.  It is the same disconnect that let him dine with family and friends at the French Laundry restaurant, while at the same time he was warning families to cancel their holiday gatherings.

Today, he reinforced why recalling him is the right thing to do.

And it is this very Democrat-created tragedy that is the biggest reason I expect the Modesto Tent Crusade to be different. The darkness and despair will itself be the catalyst for a fresh anointing and a raging river of miracles. The desperation of the people is why the power and presence will intensify. The cry of the people is reaching to the heavens.

A further reason it is going to be different is because of the workers. Psalm 110:3 says, “Your people shall be volunteers in the day of Your power…” Hundreds are lining up to work in the streets, in the neighborhoods, and in the tent. The groundswell of volunteers tells me this is the Day of God’s power!

These workers will join Frank Saldana and the army from Inner City Action on the streets. The workers are coming from everywhere. You can also volunteer! We will hit thousands of homes, bringing groceries and clothing, and we will minister in power to all of them.

To volunteer use this link.

The neighborhoods in Modesto where addiction and violence reign will be overwhelmed by this army of light and love. And because of our partners, we have more resources and supplies than ever! This will be the biggest invasion by far. But there is still more.

Every Saturday morning prior to the tent going up, hundreds, perhaps thousands, across America will jump on a Zoom Call to pray for the Modesto Crusade. Not only are we putting boots on the ground, we are sending up fervent prayer to the heavens.

But the most powerful promise that I have received from the Holy Spirit is this: Christ will be present in power like never before! That is what will make Modesto different. I cannot emphasize that too strongly. His presence will release miracle healing power like never before.

As I have said so often, we are the only movement in history where the Founder attends every meeting.

When even the most impossible cases walk into the tent, they will be healed and they will be delivered!

But the greatest reason I know that Modesto will be different, is embedded in these verses:

“And when they came out of the boat, immediately the people recognized Him, ran through that whole surrounding region, and began to carry about on beds those who were sick to wherever they heard He was. Wherever He entered, into villages, cities, or the country, they laid the sick in the marketplaces, and begged Him that they might just touch the hem of His garment. And as many as touched Him were made well” (Mark 6: 54-56).

For reasons that transcend human persuasion, I know that the sense that Jesus will be in the tent is already creating excitement, a frenzy of action, and a profound sense of expectation. People are being told by the Spirit of God, Himself, “Jesus is the one and only reason to come to the tent and to bring every sick loved one that you can!”

Glory to God, Modesto will be different!

Here’s a special video message from Mario Murillo

WOUNDED HEALERS ARE GOD’S SECRET WEAPON

It is clear that a new breed of weapon is about to emerge.  They are the wounded healers.  Who are these people?  Well, they do not have every hair in place or a clean record.  They are not the sanitized, immaculate version of the Body of Christ. 

They have messed up and then gotten back up.  Trampled and left for dead, God restored them! They have no image to protect or ego to wound.  They are the most dangerous people that Satan will ever face!

They gained all new appetites in the furnace of affliction. They do not need the glory, and they eschew titles and awards.  Their unswerving passion is to show compassion and take prisoners of love.  You cannot get them to fight over doctrine, because they have been to the Cross.  They know the Blood that bought them, and then brought them back to life.

They are like Peter at Pentecost.  Only a soul who has been handed another chance after denying the Lord three times will understand the inner fire of a wounded healer.  Who could write such a dangerous song as Amazing Grace but John Newton whose plaque says, “Once an infidel and libertine / A servant of slaves in Africa / Was, by the rich mercy of our Lord and Saviour JESUS CHRIST / restored, pardoned, and appointed to preach the Gospel which he had long laboured to destroy.”

 You cannot find such zeal in religious do-gooders who never brave beyond ivied halls of respectability.   You will not find this flame in the bleachers where the cold souls sit and keep score, but who will never take the field.

Wounded healers do not boast of clean uniforms and of battles evaded, but of scars and gates of hell invaded.  They have no preaching pedigree, only a song that sets the captive free.

We all know of the verse in Daniel 11:32 that says,” Those who do wickedly against the covenant he shall corrupt with flattery; but the people who know their God shall be strong, and carry out great exploits.“    What we tend to overlook is the verse that comes later that speaks of the wounded healers.  Daniel 11:35 says,” And some of those of understanding shall fall, to refine them, purify them, and make them white, until the time of the end; because it is still for the appointed time.”

 This is a word for you my friend!  Your attack is not to destroy you but to refine you!  Your rejection and your abandonment are not meant for shame, but for purity.   It does not matter how your garments appear to Pharisees, only that they are white before God.

The most incredible news is this… though religious voices have disqualified you; your destiny is yet for an appointed time!   The door that God holds open, stays open!

Now let us look at another aspect of the Wounded Healer.  They are able to reach the masses that the regular church cannot.  Therefore, they are the perfect weapon for this moment, at the end of all things. If only these special-ops believers could see who they are, and lose their need for the approval of cookie cutter Christians, then they will become God’s tractor beam for lost souls.

Getting rid of the fear of man was the principal prize that so many of you gained in adversity.   So many of you wrote to me about the horrific events of your life and in the face of everything else, it became so real, how much God meant everything and the approval of your judges meant nothing.  Truly, you shouted, “If God is for us, who can be against us!”

Many wrote of the life of power that rose out of the ashes of despair. They felt equipped to do more than ever. They felt useful and lethal!! AMEN!!    This has to be the purest meaning of 2 Corinthians 1:3, “Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our tribulation, that we may be able to comfort those who are in any trouble, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God.”

 Look around you and you will see how a new generation of leader is coming to the fore.  They do not wait for committee approval.  They rent a school auditorium in a bad area and just start preaching.  They preach raw sermons with an open heart and crowds come from everywhere.

Their frontline ministry is unlisted in the who’s who of the council of Churches but Jesus feels just fine showing up every time they meet! Look again and see others who carry “unlicensed weapons”.  They open their homes to youth.  They send out food, clothes and love in the most unconventional ways imaginable all with the smile of God.

Wounded healers may not wear denominational labels.  They do not schmooze in the right rooms, but they carry the fight to where it matters the most.  They operate under direct orders of the King of Kings!

When you see one, you will know them.  They will not judge you and no matter how far gone you feel, they will see you through the lens of the Holy Spirit.  They will see you as you will look after your miracle has come.  You will feel welcome in their presence and you will look priceless in their eyes.  They do not view the sinner as a commodity, but as kidnapped royalty.

What about you?  What will you do with your adversity, pain and shame?  All I can do is tell you what I did.  At the lowest point of my life, God was waiting for me to make a choice.  I chose to minister wherever the door opens, and to preach from now on as if each message is my last.

Deciding to go on when you feel nothing but agony, is the greatest victory that you will ever win.   Not caring who gets the credit will rip the lid off your limits.

What are you and I waiting for?  We have loved ones to snatch back!  We have miracles to unleash on lost souls.   There is a whole world out there that has never even heard of church fights or legalistic regulations.

When Elijah told the widow to go and get as many containers as she could and God would fill them with oil, she realized that the condition of the cans, bottle, pails, or pots was not important.  God put oil in all of them.   Wounded healers are not perfect containers, they are simply full of oil and that is all that truly matters.

God knows what he is doing.  Saul of Tarsus was the wounded healer who surpassed all of the twelve disciples.  He felt unworthy to be a disciple and said so in no uncertain terms.  Yet, he attributed his unsurpassed labor for Christ to his awareness that he was a broken vessel.

Jesus showed another power of the wounded healer in Luke 7:44- 47, “Then He turned to the woman and said to Simon (the Pharisee), “Do you see this woman? I entered your house; you gave Me no water for My feet, but she has washed My feet with her tears and wiped them with the hair of her head.  You gave Me no kiss, but this woman has not ceased to kiss My feet since the time I came in. You did not anoint My head with oil, but this woman has anointed My feet with fragrant oil. Therefore, I say to you, her sins, which are many, are forgiven, for she loved much. But to whom little is forgiven, the same loves little.”

Therefore, to all you wounded healers, I say, you will not get credit from the religious peanut gallery, so you will have to be content with accomplishing more than any of them will for Christ, and loving the Lord more than they can ever imagine!

“THE SINGER”

I’ve never really believed that home is a geographical place. 

After completing the first grade, just when I might have been getting accustomed to the idea of home as a place, my parents decided to move. My younger sister and I were not consulted and in short order, found ourselves about five hours south of all we had known as home. 

It seems likely that this first disruptive upheaval planted the seed of roaming in me. This seed of wandering has grown over time and has matured into a sizeable bush of wanderlust which must now be contended with, most frequently, by short journeys. 

As we have grown older my younger sister and I have occasionally put our minds together trying to recall in how many houses, in how many places we have lived. The young have no frame of reference for what they experience; all is new, even when the new is more of the same. 

At one school we attended, I have very vivid memories of trying to become part of the group of kids riding the school bus… always a challenge for the new kid. 

It seems like each afternoon on the way home from school one of the kids would start a song: a chanting rhyme as it were.  This game was rhythmic and accompanied by the snapping of fingers, the clapping of hands, and the stomping of feet. 

“Mary stole the cookie from the cookie jar. 

At which point Mary would reply, “Who me?” 

And the group would join in resoundingly, “Yes, you!” 

Mary would sing back, “Not me!” 

And everyone would chant enthusiastically, “Then who?” 

And then Mary would sing out, “Leon stole the cookie from the cookie jar!” in a dramatic and wonderfully accusatory fashion.  Leon would then fill his role, chant his part, and name whomsoever he chose to keep the game going. 

And the chant would go round and round and round with each child being included and then naming another child. 

I remember the longing I had to be part of this happy time, this afternoon ritual. But I was awkward and bookish and “not from around here”.  I was looking for a home with my fellow bus riders while on the way home to my parents’ love. 

This parental love, by the way, has been unwavering. I never, not once, felt unloved by either parent. Of course, the choices they made in life were mysterious and unfathomable and sometimes painful to me — until I lived a bit and added a wife and three children into my equation of one.  The passing of time has helped me gain an appreciation of my parents and the choices they made. 

So, on the bus I began to edge closer to the group one seat at a time, one bus ride at a time, until I had incrementally gained a place on the fringe. 

I began joining in on the chant enthusiastically!  I was so needy. 

Eventually some kind soul in the group felt my hunger and, taking pity on me, tossed the chant my way. “Bill stole the cookie from the cookie jar!” 

I became so flustered at being suddenly and unexpectedly included that my words stuck in my mouth. I knew my role, what to say, how to say it… but I couldn’t. 

The chant.

The finger snapping.

The clapping.

The foot stomping.

The bouncing up and down in the seat to the rhythm of togetherness.

The thrum of acceptance. 

All of it stopped. 

As stuck as the words in my mouth.

As frozen as the expression of fear and dismay on my face.

The acid of shame in my heart. 

I had a chance to arrive at home and I blew it. 

I’ve since learned, after many a bitter experience of edging up on acceptance and looking for a home in numerous church groups, prayer groups, bible studies and church conferences, that these groups can be both helpful and harmful. 

I’ve learned that home is the love of this Being that some call God.  I’ve learned this, that the ways of this Untamable Being, are mysterious and unfathomable and sometimes painful to me. 

This home, this Love, is found anew when I include those that others will not. 

This home, this Love, is still being built in me when I sit with the broken and allow others to sit with me in my brokenness. 

This home, this Love, always, always includes and never, never excludes — regardless of what the religious teach. 

I know now that home, this Love, is always singing to me even when I have forgotten the words to sing back; even when the acid of shame is scalding me. 

Still and again, Home, this Love is singing to me, inviting me, including me. Even when all I can do in return is edge closer to the Song, the Singer sings me… Home. 

William Evans

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