January 2nd, 2017, with tear stains on my face I boarded my flight to go back to Redding, California and complete my second year at Bethel School of Supernatural Ministry.
Christmas break had been a conflicting time, fighting between wanting to finish school but wanting to stay with my family and be home where I feel safe.
I argued with God as I walked through the airport, and by argue I mean I ranted and he waited patiently as he always does. I went back and forth between being so grateful for the life I had in California and the experience that I got at BSSM, to being so upset that I couldn’t be with my dad when he needed me the most and having to miss my nieces growing up. I knew that I needed first year, but second year hadn’t been so clear and it’s been a fight to want to stay.
I sat in my tiny leather blue seat waiting for take off, with my hood up shut off from the rest of the world. I sat there silently as the wheels started to leave the ground, staring at the home I was leaving behind. In that moment, when I decided to be still, I felt him. He came in with his soft, steady voice saying “Who are you?”. Still irritated I thought “What do you mean? What kind of question is that?”. I kind of knew it wasn’t an actual question. Typically when God asks you a question, he’s not the one that doesn’t know the answer.
I went through the usual “I’m a daughter of the highest king, I’m powerful and redeemed by your love and I have access to all you have”, the total first year run down. There was some more silence. And then with a smile on his face, like he had been waiting for the moment, he said “But who are you? Right now.” Now, I don’t know why a simple question broke me and sent me back into my identity, but I know that I know you cannot look upon his face and feel his love for you and your spirit not be called to conviction.
I had been walking through the airport like being sent into the kingdom was a chore. I had been angry at God for sending me on the greatest opportunity of my life, an opportunity that I asked him to let me go on. I had let anger and disappointment into the airport, which it already has plenty of.
I forgot who I was.
I forgot that I had been chosen. Chosen to see his kingdom advance, chosen to see his goodness, chosen to be a part of revival. I forgot that he was good, which by inheritance, meant that he was good to me and that I received all the blessing he had to offer without even asking.
In Isaiah 60:1-3 it says: “Rise up and shine, for your light has come. The shining-greatness of the Lord has risen upon you. For see, darkness will cover the earth. Much darkness will cover the people. But the Lord will rise upon you, and His shining-greatness will be seen upon you.
Nations will come to your light. And kings will see the shining-greatness of the Lord on you.”
Being powerful means being willing to be the light and shine.
So often we view being powerful someone who has the strongest personality, takes what they want, pushes people out of the way and is usually successful. It’s usually associated with the words forceful, strong, blunt and loud. I don’t believe that our image and the reality match up. Somewhere along the line we decided that to be powerful and to be a leader you have to be the loudest, you have to be forceful and you have to be tough.
The websters dictionary defines being powerful as: Having the ability to control or influence people or things – having a strong effect on someone or something
Why do we think being powerful is shut off? Why do we think that it’s okay to ignore the person that hurt you and make them feel unwanted or unwelcome? Why do we think it’s okay to walk through an airport and release anything but hope, joy and love?
We convince ourselves it’s okay because it’s easier. It was easy for me to walk around angry and upset and be like everyone else. It was a lot easier than being vulnerable and praying that good would come out of my pain and that God would take care of me. It was a lot easier than being powerful and telling the world about a God that I believe is good even when I didn’t feel his goodness.
To be that kind of powerful would mean that we would have to give a piece of ourselves to the world, we would actually have to truly be who we said we were on stage. It’s easy to be the kind of powerful that shoves people out of the way and talks so loud and so much that no one gets the chance to speak to their hearts, you can run through life without the risk of being hurt because everyone is too afraid to talk to you.
We need to ask ourselves if that sounds like a powerful person or a coward.
Being powerful means deciding who you are going to be based on who you are called to be, what is best for your family and friends, what will actually impact the world and then being that person down to your core.
It means being just as confident speaking in front of millions as it does cleaning the toilet. It means to stop and talk to somebody who could never do anything for you, but loving them just because it’s right, because you want to.
It means starting that program and making money off of it and changing generations, because that’s who you are.
It means being fully you and being fully known by the world. It means to take responsibility for what you have in your hands and empower others to do the same, to lift them up and not push them down.
Powerful is vulnerable, and vulnerability is powerful.
It’s really time for us to wake up and realize that shoving people and your emotions down, running from your problems and focusing on you, is not powerful.
Operating out of love, identity and passion all while serving where you can serve and being vulnerable in every area of your life, even when you don’t want to. That is what it means to be a powerful person.