Prophecy - flames of creativity

I woke up this morning with Holy Spirit bubbling up on the inside of me, saying what follows - I thought I should write it down and share:

“It’s time to pour petrol on the flickering flames of creativity that have almost died across the bride.

It’s time to reignite the fire of passion that the spirit of religion has tried to quench for decades.

It’s time to stand back and allow the breath of heaven to sweep through my people and bring what has died back to life with its kiss of creative sparks

It’s time to allow the rain of my love to soak the seeds that have survived the devastating forest fire, so that the grey, ash-charred ground can spring back into life with flowers, reflecting the diversity of colours in the rainbow of my heart.

For the spirit of intellectualism has choked, almost to death, the prophetic heart of my church, strangling its desire to breath the revelation of what I’m really like …. forcing my people to feed its starving body on half truths, paellas of left overs, selected bits of truth that can be made to fit into the brain, to enable my church to lean on its understanding instead of trusting in the Lord to shine my identity into your heart.

For who can contain, or expect to understand, within an earthly lifetime, anything about me, within the dying cells of the brain?

It’s time for the heart to rise up and lead the brain, and for the toil-worn grey matter to be given bed rest so it can recover.

It’s time to let me unveil the beauty and glory of Christ like a firework display where the crowds call out, ‘ooh, ahh….’ as their spirits explode with faith to connect and to fly with the rockets bursting in the black skies of unbelief.

It’s time to allow back into the church world the kingdom-building gifts of spontaneity, fun, laughter, visions and dreams, parables for today, dance like David’s that offends.

It’s the season of naive, baby-like experimentation for the bride, making steps and falling over, getting it wrong and trying again. No longer will there be services of professional slickness where carefully coddled and polished models are displayed on catwalks of intellectual vanity.

It’s time to let me be who I am as God, instead of telling me who I am and instructing me as to what I am required to do for everyone! It’s time to let me transform you into my image instead of recreating me in your own.

For the spirit of religion has suffocated the church to the point where people cannot see people as beautiful in their own right, making everyone a serving cog in a worn-out machine. It has replaced friendship with ‘functionship’, so that performing, busyness and sickness are almost respected as much as the beautiful souls who are so suffering.

It’s time for the beauty of my masterpieces of creation to be seen in the fragility of humility- of believing you are as great as I say you are, instead of the false humility of saying you are sinners, losers, slaves to a nature that I have long forgiven, forgotten and washed away.

It’s time to let the word and the spirit marry in partnership, balanced like the wings of an eagle, so that who I am, and who you are as my perfect bride, breaks out of the intellectual mould and expands in the imagination of everyone’s hearts, birthing faith and hope for the impossible.

It’s time for creation and creating to be promoted from the status of hobbies, relegated to the scraps of spare time left when all the kosher serving has been put to bed, and made the main work being done … for my enjoyment and furtherance of my kingdom.

It’s time to make experiencing me become what knowing me really is. It’s time to stop feeding on a diet of theory about what ought to be, and start feeding on who I have said you already are.

It’s time for the right side of the brain to lead the left side. It’s time to let Mary show Martha how to prioritise her kitchen duties.

It’s time to let me actually instruct the earth through pioneers I’m raising up in the arts, in the smile, in the celebration of being my creation, so people who don’t know me can meet me and be touched by the manifestation of my presence and my high regard for who they are, rather than pinning theology on people and then thinking they have met me when they haven’t.

It’s time for every single person to know that they share my anointing as creators of beauty, in whatever way they are gifted to do so, or in ways they would enjoy creating, for my glory and not just as a pastime, as being my friend.

I have millions of servants but few friends. Please come and be my friends and let’s have the best fun !!!

I long for friends, who know that I love everything in their life, who know they can include me in their every breath, every thought, and who know they can celebrate me in their fun, their jokes, in what they choose to watch on television, in their music, in their humming as they walk down the road, in every greeting with every passer-by with ‘hi, how are you?’

For religion is the toxic killer of true evangelism, but creativity is the source of authenticity in befriending searching people.

So bring out the petrol cans, call the winds of heaven to blow, let the intellect be corrected by the revelation and humility of saying ‘we don’t understand,’ but we’re seeing, touching, feeling and hearing, and having our senses trained in the art of discerning between good and evil.

And let the fire come. Let it burn down the walls of religion. Let creativity burst like a volcano so that my artistic people flow like lava down the mountainsides, the streets where you dwell !”