It all started in Jr. High – Before The Wind & Fire of God

It all started in 1993/1994, I was 13/14 years old. There began an insatiable hunger. A hunger that couldn’t be filled. A feeling like there was something about ready to happen and I didn’t know what but I had to start preparing myself to get ready. I can’t believe my daughter is the same age now as I was then. I had this intense urgency to get on my face before God and cry out for something more. I was going to Temple Christian at that time and I asked my teachers if it was ok to go to the chapel during lunch on Tuesday and Thursdays with whoever wanted to come so we would worship and pray.
I would go around the lunch room and invite whoever wanted to come from my Jr. High and sometimes some high schoolers to join us to fast, worship and pray.

I remember leading worship from the piano and we began to join our voices in prayer and worship. There was an intensity that burned inside of me that got stronger and stronger. It was hard going to a private school and wanting the entire school to get on fire for God and not always seeing it. But I knew God had a purpose in us being there and to press in no matter what we saw.

I don’t remember how long those times in the chapel lasted, but I do remember what happened in 1995, when our Pastors at City Bible Church in Portland, Oregon, Frank & Sharon Damazio went to investigate the Toronto Blessing and came back with an impartation that spread like wildfire. All of a sudden the intensity and hunger that I had felt in 1993/1994 began to be filled to overflowing.
Countless services of receiving the love, anointing, holy spirit refilling over and over began. Times laying out under the power of the Holy Spirit and in those times going deeper, seeing visions God was showing me of the lost of other countries around the world and revival hitting them.


Then in the spring/summer of 1995 came the burden, heavy deep burden of intercession that overtook my body and soul. The deep deep loud travail that came out of me shook me to the core. I would spend hours at the alter, or in my bedroom not just crying but deep guttrral travail would come out of me. I lost all sense of what was happening around me when that took place. I would be worshipping or praying and all of a sudden I could feel the heartbeat and grief of God over those who did not know him or had rejected him. The burden to see them come to know Jesus and go to heaven would be the focus of my mind as my body was overcome by intense groaning. After it had lightened and I would stop, my face would be ballooned, eyes totally swollen and red dots all over my face and neck from blood vessels thst had burst. I started calling them Holy ghost dots, haha. Glad I didn’t have much vanity back then.

That summer I went to England on a mission trip with the youth lead by Ed and Heather Schefter. In preparing for that trip, our team had amazing prayer times after our drama practices. One night it went way too long and all of us kids on the team got in trouble by our parents for being out past curfew, but seriously we were slain in the spirit on the chapel alter or drunk in the spirit (no alcohol) and couldn’t get up. Haha. Awesome memories. Our poor parents, how many parents have ever gotten that excuse from their kids.

On that trip God began to talk to me about taking up my cross and following Him. I realized that going to a private school and living in a total Christian bubble, I had no cross to carry. When I got back home from England we had Youth camp. There at the alter, the intercession for the lost hit me again. As I was on my face Weeping, God clearly told me that every tear I cried would be a soul that is saved at Centennial High school. I was like, what? I love my school and my friends are my family (I had been at TCS from 1st grade till 10th). God said it’s time to pick up my cross and follow him. That Centennial was my mission field. I looked up and saw all my closest friends and I went over and gathered them and told them what God had told me and I cried tears of sadness. It was the hardest thing I had ever done till that time.

Obedience and sacrifice was what He had required for the next step of my journey. The mission field.

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