He Will Cause you to Serve Him
My mother was urging me. “Go stand in the line, Bonnie, hurry!” I turned and looked back at the many people, young and old, waiting.
It was the late 1970’s, and I was wearing a long maxi dress. The brightly colored flowers were bursting forth at the seams, and my sandals had large buckled squares that draped across my ankles. My hair was sapling bark brown, straight, and hanging down my back mid-way. In the summer, it was glossy satin but come winter, a stringy static mess. I was a young girl, preteen or just above that, and utterly naïve of my own beauty or worth. I was self-conscious, scared, and a tad pigeon-toed.
The line was now draped around the church’s outer wall, lingering on towards the back doors of the sanctuary.
The excitement in my mother’s voice was charged.
“Bonnie, go get in line and see what he tells you! ‘He’ being the prophetic evangelist that was visiting our church. ‘He’ who apparently had a direct line to the Creator of all.
Again my mother exclaimed, “Go on. He is very gifted and just told me many things only God would have known. I want to see what he tells you.”
I never liked being in the spotlight and shied away from the front of the sanctuary. Certain people had a habit of frightening me as a young child. They sang in languages I had never heard of and spoke in unknown tongues. No one had educated me on the tongues of angels and men.
Upfront stood the pastor, the elders, and the catchers. I knew what the catcher’s job entailed. Catchers were the people that stood behind you in case you fell under the power of the Ruach Holy Spirit. They draped cloths over the women’s dresses after they had floated backward–just in case anything might be exposed that shouldn’t be.
My mother always fell.
She said, “They just barely have to touch me Bonnie, and I go down.” As if this signified some level of holiness. She assured me that it didn’t hurt and felt as if she had landed on cotton. “Honest Bonnie, it doesn’t hurt at all. It’s the most wonderful experience!” Her eyes twinkled with excitement. I nodded–still unsure of my quest for significance. Did I really want to feel this Holy Set-Apart Spirit, and was this really what they were feeling? I knew what I personally felt but wasn’t quite sure it was the same. Unknowingly, this, along with many other quizzical moments, would one day cause me to study doctrine with binocular vision.
I headed to the back of the line that was becoming shorter and nervously sighed. I secretly hoped I wouldn’t fall on the floor to be draped in a black cloth while onlookers gawked. What if I became stuck there crying uncontrollably and couldn’t move like some I had seen in the past?
I was doing this for my mother. I wanted to please her, and I wanted to get a pleasant word–one that would mesmerize my mother. I longed to hear how I would do something great for The Father of lights one day. In my underdeveloped brain, I thought that if this man told me something spiritually creative about myself, my mother would be very proud of me, and I wanted so desperately to please her. This, too, would one day cause me great pain.
As I moved forward, I looked at the balding dark-headed man of large stature and wondered what he would prophesy over me.
There are moments in life that stick with you, like a piece of putty stuck in your conscious mind. This man is one of those plasters that have lingered with me forever.
He placed his large hand on my head and began to pray in the spirit. Then he looked into my eyes and said, “Daughter, the Lord says, He will cause you to serve Him!” He repeated it even louder and with more force, I said, “He will cause you to serve Him!” I stared at him, frozen with fear. Then he motioned for me to go on back to my seat. I was stunned. The women behind me made faces at one another and then looked at me very strangely. This prophet had spoken words of encouragement to many. Meanwhile, I get a peculiar look and a stern word. Not only that, but he looked as shocked as me that it had come out of his mouth.
My mother was anxious to hear what this holy man of God had spoken to me. Her ears were standing at attention like a Chihuahua as I made my way down the aisle.
“Well, what did he say?”
I must have looked funny. I’m sure my cheeks were rosy, and my mouth was tight.
“Bonnie, what’s wrong?”
I struggled to state the one sentence but finally got it out.
The echo, “He will cause you to serve Him!” Only mine was a whisper.
“He said what? I repeated it hoarsely.
“God will cause me to serve Him.”
“Well, that sure was different. Goodness, what do you think he meant?” Her eyes had lost the glitter and were now wide open. I felt the scrutiny of her eyes upon my soul for a moment. She looked up and down.
“Gosh Bonnie, I don’t know what I would think if he would have said that to me?”
She then stared at me again intently–like the women behind me in line, who had heard his voice boom.
I shrugged my shoulders and sat down, but in my mind, I was asking God a question, “Do I not serve you already?” I had been ‘saved’ at a very young age and loved God. I already felt invisible at home, and I didn’t seem to fit in at school. Now, I was hearing from this man that I was not serving God? He was supposed to hear from the Father. My mother called him anointed.
I went to every church service, and I learned multiple scriptures. I won awards for memorizing the most verses. I prayed, and I secretly wanted to do some work for God. Why was this happening to me?
I hung my head down. I felt funny inside.
I never forgot this man’s prophecy, and some twenty years later, in the midst of one of my most turbulent lifestyles, He did cause me to serve him. Yes, the man who had laid hands on me years before had heard the voice of Yahweh clearly in his ear.
It was a summer night in 2005. I had gotten married two years prior at the little white chapel in Las Vegas but never finalized it. There was nothing white or pure about the union. So after drinking and having sex with a man, I called my husband, but like the woman at the well, only lived with, I heard the sound of all the water in the ocean come crashing into me.
The voice spoke only five words, “Get your house in order!”
I catapulted up in the bed and looked out my window at the moon that, for the first time in my life, looked different. For the first time in my life, I knew that the same voice that just spoke to me had also hung that moon in the sky, along with the whole host of heaven. “God is that you?” I couldn’t breathe.
My heart was beating faster than it ever had, and waves of the vibration from His voice were still plummeting into my soul. “Get your house in order!” It ricocheted through me. I remember thinking, “Could God be trying to talk to me?” Is this voice I just heard that caused me to jump, really God, or am I going crazy? I couldn’t get the sudden fear of God out of my mind. My whole body was vibrating. I cannot tell you how I knew this, but suddenly I knew that this voice was THE ANCIENT OF DAYS. This voice was The Great, I AM! Every bit of the blood pumping through my veins was confirming it. I don’t know how, but I knew the VOICE I had heard knew all about me and everyone else, for that matter. It was an all-consuming voice, but why was He speaking to me? Out of all the sinners in the universe, why did He want me to get my house in order? Was it due to my parent’s prayers? Was he taking me home? Did He have an assignment for me? I didn’t have the answers yet, but I knew something bigger than me was happening.
I did a quick mental sweep of my spiritual house and my natural home, and then my heart sank.
I knew where those scriptures fell in the Bible because even in my backslidden state, I read His Word daily and wanted to change. One was a king. Hezekiah was his name.
“Hezekiah became ill and was at the point of death. The prophet Isaiah son of Amos, went to him and said, “This is what the LORD says: PUT YOUR HOUSE IN ORDER, because you are going to die; you will not recover.”
Was I going to die? I knew Hezekiah pleaded with the Father and reminded him of all the righteous things he had done. Therefore, HaShem gave him fifteen more years, but I had nothing to plead with.
I laid there for what seemed like hours meditating on the state of my conscious mind and what had just transpired. Finally, I drifted off to sleep, and in my dream-like state, I began to hear the book of Genesis. “In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth. And the earth was without form, and void, and darkness was upon the face of the deep. And the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters. And God said, Let there be light: and there was light.”
This reading of the Word was being narrated to my spirit man in a way the Bible had never been deposited before, and it continued. “And God saw the light, that it was good: and God divided the light from the darkness. And God called the light Day, and the darkness he called Night. And the evening and the morning were the first day.
Then I began to hear The Voice again, only this time it was different. It was more of a narrator in my spirit man speaking to me. “Bonnie, do you think that I gave you life so you can fulfill it on the lust of your flesh? Do you think I gave you life so you can aimlessly throw it away? Do you not see how I had an order to my creation? Do you not know that I am a God of order?
“Get your house in order.”
I continued to hear scriptures throughout the night and into the wee morning hours.
Something happened the next day that I cannot explain. I awoke with an incredible terror of God. For the first time in my life, I knew what the scripture meant, which said, “Work out your own salvation with fear and trembling.”
I spent two days staring. I didn’t speak much. I sat and relived the voice. I could still hear it inside my soul. I didn’t share this experience with anyone but pondered it in my heart.
I had a fear now of a God I had heard about all my life but never knew in this manner. I knew the Sunday school teachings I had learned. The countless services and tent revivals I had been drug to since birth. I knew all the Bible stories, and I talked to this God often. I told my children about the God of the Bible, and I hid as much of my sin as I could from them. I talked to God as if He were my friend, and I often told Him I was sorry. I cried and read the Bible and pleaded for Him to forgive me over and over again, but I kept doing what I didn’t want to do. It was just as Paul said in Romans, “For I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate” 7:15.
Now, I feared the sound of many waters. He was Holy—kadosh—set apart. He was omnipotent. I was grass.
“Get your house in order!”
Yes, His voice had penetrated my heart and my soul. He was causing me to serve Him. He was causing me to sit up and take notice of a God that was engulfing the universe and hovering over the waters—the same molecules He breathed into existence. He was all-encompassing. He did not just have a title; He had a Name. His name was Yod-Heh-Vav-Heh (YHVH), and it meant ‘Behold the hand—behold the nail.’ His Son’s hands had held those nails for lil ole me and also for the whole cosmos.