From Corpse to Bride

Spirits of my good friend's imagination.

Part 1: Imagine 

I was finishing a Yoga session, listening to a podcast from Bethel church in Redding. The podcast, which I can no longer recall specifically, mentioned prophetic visions and dreams. At that point, I quit listening so I can’t relay the teaching to you. It had something to do with Kris Vallaton having a vision, and what I took from it (without listening to a word of it) was that Kris gets visions, I don’t. Frankly, I thought that an unfair load of rotten apples. 

Have you ever been through Wenatchee, WA (the self-proclaimed apple capital of the world) after the apple harvests have finished and the leftover fruit is left to fall to the ground and decompose? I have. Kids who grow up there call the town The Snatch, in response to the vulgar aroma. 

Yes, other people receiving visions who aren’t me: the essence of vulgarity. 

I lay there in corpse pose, letting my blood settle back into its routine, and started a conversation with Dad. “I want to have visions,” I told him. Then, boldly indignant, I explained that it wasn’t very fair to give some people visions while skipping me. “That’s like saying, some of my sheep hear my voice. Some do not. Random luck of the draw. Better luck next time, kiddo.” 

The moment I paused to draw breath, Dad responded firm and clear, though not unkind.  

I didn’t clear my mind, close my eyes, or try to listen in any way. I wasn’t done speaking, actually, and wasn’t expecting to be interrupted. Nevertheless, He spoke. The words I heard were so counter to my present train of thought, two things I couldn’t do occurred simultaneously.

First, I couldn’t help but hear Him. 

Second, I couldn’t give myself any credit for coming up with the idea. Thus suggesting, for me at least, that what I’d heard was Dad. 

“You do have visions,” he said. 

“What? Visions my booty,” I would have replied had I any time. But Dad doesn’t need words to speak, and doesn’t have to inhale to give you a moment to interrupt. 

Immediately, several stories I’ve written came to mind. Then one in particular settled into the forefront of my imagination. Dad returned me to my seat in front of my computer screen in my dining room, where I wrote the story. I sat there typing as my imagination played the story like a film behind my eyes. I paused occasionally, allowing my imagination to play, then writing what I saw as quickly and accurately as I could. 

The process felt like I was translating a story from one language to another. From spirit language, which uses no words, to English. At once a limiting and liberating exercise. 

What Dad was showing me is that the thing, the head space, I’ve been told is my imagination, is also the space Dad uses to give me visions. It’s the same space engaged when I read a book, play a board game, listen to music, study a painting, watch a ballet. 

Though these things are rooted in the physical world, they transport me to non-physical realms. That’s why I read, or play games, or any of these activities. On their own, they’re neat but essentially boring. Alongside my imagination, I can engaged with them for hours and not disengage until forcibly separated.

We exercise our imagination by experiencing the creative results of another’s imagination. From there, depending on our life experiences and skills, we can begin to exercise our imaginations apart from any other’s, and create. 

Being a writer, this creative process of receiving visions and translating them occurs most naturally as I write stories. However, I believe this experience can be had in many ways. When my friend Dave carves a pipe, for example, he first imagines it what it will look like. When my husband writes a song on the guitar, he first imagines what it will sound like. When my friend Claire knits a garment, she first imagines wearing it. When my friend Josiah creates a cocktail, he first imagines drinking it. When I heal, I first imagine wholeness. 

Midnight release of, as you may have
guessed, the final Harry Potter.

What I’m saying is when we tap into our creative imagination, we are receiving visions from God. When I read a book, I’m engaging the same imagination as when I write a book. The difference is that one experience creates, the other is created. In one experience, an author provides narrative that shapes my imagination’s path. In the other experience, my imagination provides images that shape the path of my narrative. That ten people can read the same book, and if asked to make a film of that book, would produce ten radically different results, suggests to me that imagination is highly personal, subjective, and vital whether its being used in author or reader capacity. 

I’ve noticed a fear in adults throughout my life, particularly adults who attend churches, that particular stories or games are influenced by evil. I believe this to an extent: when I translate an author’s narrative into my imagination, perhaps there’s some wiggle room for demonic influence. 

Harry Potter was a huge deal for the church attending people in my life as a child. Its a book about witchcraft, clearly anti-Christ, clearly an abomination and should be kept from the hands of our impressionable, vulnerable children. Luckily, none of them were my parents, and I was encouraged to read them. 

Before we can create in meaningful ways, we must learn to imagine. One thing I noticed as a kid reading Harry Potter, was that at first, the story was simply words on a page. I’d read a page, get bored, walk away. Read two pages, get bored, walk away. Eventually, I pushed through a few more pages, and my imagination kicked in. Suddenly, I was enraptured by a world completely unlike any I’d experienced. I couldn’t stop reading. I can tell you from watching the movies, my imagination was completely different and vastly more satisfying than the filmmakers’.

Every time I picked up the book, it took less and less time for my imagination to engage, and I was able to read for ever extending periods. I’m not suggesting that Harry Potter was a vital read, and that I owe my capacity to receive visions from God to reading that series. However, as we practice engaging our imaginations, we gain stamina. We can engage more quickly and for longer periods of time.

Imagination is so vital, I’ll argue that it should be nurtured and encouraged without fail. Whether its books like Harry Potter, or games like Magic the Gathering, no fear of demonic influence should prevent the use of a person’s imagination.

In my own creative work, I’ve found that the more I read and allow other’s to shape an imagination experience, the more stamina I have when it comes to having imagination experiences completely free of influence except from God. 

I’m not sure if you caught what I just insinuated, so let me clarify: every act of creativity starts with an imagination experience influenced directly from God. 

Whether a proclaimed “Christian” or not, God gives people visions. Whether there’s wiggle room for demonic influence is besides the point. If it was created, it was inspired by God. Yes, we are capable of imagining terrible things. Even those begin inspired from God. I’ve never heard it argued that C.S. Lewis wasn’t Christian, yet he had to imagine some gruesome and disturbing war images for The Chronicles of Narnia. He actually imagined being a demon for The Screw tape Letters. 

In the song below, "Clint Eastwood" by The Gorillaz featuring Del Tha Funkee Homosapien (knowing before you do that there are a couple F*bombs ahead), you can hear a splendid example of prophecy spoken outside of a church-approved prophet. Mostly, it's a good song. I think it also compliments the concept I'm trying to explain in this post. Until Part 2, enjoy and be blessed. 

(Oh, yeah. The point of this post, as ever, is to stir conversation and stoke questions. Have at it!)

“Allow me to make this childlike in nature: Rhythm, you have it or you don’t, that’s a fallacy. I’m in them - every sproutin’ tree, every child of peace, every cloud and sea.” 

Through the Open Window

A Dream and a Healing

Recently, I’ve been imagining owning my own coffee shop. I’ve imagined this for years, but lately its been more matter of fact, not if but when. One of the ideas I’ve been getting really excited about is using the shop’s space after hours for creative, community centered events.

"The dream’s images came to mind again.
This time, I couldn’t ignore them..." 

For example, I’d love to shove the tables aside and teach yoga classes. They’d be a perfect environment to get people healed, and I’d call them “Yoga with Jesus.”

While imagining this, Dad reminded me of a conversation I had with a friend, Hannah. “I feel like I’m getting a word from God about yoga instructor certification, but I don’t think it’s for me. Maybe it’s for you,” she said. I smiled at the memory, brushing it aside as unlikely and implausible for a wide array of reasons.  

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In the dark hours of Tuesday morning, I had a dream. I remember a few specific images from the dream, nothing more. First, a pair of hands resting on someone’s back. The person wore a heather grey shirt, the dream’s perspective gave me no further detail. 

A moment later, I was given a broader view. I saw a wooden table that looked carved straight from a tree, from which an umbrella loomed. I was also engaged in a heated conversation with my employers that had me feeling heavy and oppressed. (I’ve never had such an interaction, I don’t expect to. I’ll interpret this part in a moment.)

When I woke up, the weight of that conversation stuck around. I felt flustered, unheard. For the most part the dream slipped my mind - had I not been wrestling with this negativity I’d have forgotten it entirely. “What the heck was that about?” I asked Dad. 

He reminded me, “You asked for adventure, correct?”

That was true, I agreed. I smiled, and the negativity I’d carried in from the dream realm dissolved. Eyes still bleary, I rolled over and pulled my computer onto the bed. There was a blog post I’d been putting off for a couple days ("Between the Coaster...") and I was feeling oddly eager to write it. Whenever that happens, I like to take advantage right away. 

I opened my computer, clicked the internet icon, and waited for Blogger to load. An error page popped up, informing me I didn’t have an internet connection. Being that I connect via the router in my apartment complex’s office, which is across the parking lot, this happens frequently. Sometimes closing and opening my computer gives me a fresh connection. 

I closed my computer and opened it back up. Multiple times. At the top of my screen, an exclamation mark blinked over my connection strength indicator. Since I’d never seen an exclamation used in such a way, I took it to indicate I wasn’t going to have any luck connecting to internet from home today. I packed up my things, jammed my helmet over my hair, and rode my moped through the rain to the coffee bungalow I work at. 

Though seating is outdoor, there’s a hefty table that looks as though it was carved from a tree with a wide umbrella that keeps at least a small portion of the table dry. A woman, one of my regulars, was already sitting in one of the dry seats, apparently waiting for a friend. I sat kitty-corner from her, pulled out my computer, and opened up Blogger with ease. 

Unfortunately, I recalled that much of my material for said post was derived from Facebook. I logged in, and was thoroughly distracted from the task at hand. On top of that, my table partner’s friend had arrived and they were chatting up a storm. Huddled around the driest parts of the table as we were, I couldn’t help but overhear most of their conversation. It’s incredibly hard to write anything when you’re listening to other people’s conversations, let me tell you.

I overheard some important details, though. Mainly, that my regular’s name was Alice (I’m terrible about exchanging names), and she’d recently injured her back. Though she didn’t have the means to got to a doctor or chiropractor, she has several friends who are healers and massage therapists she could visit. 

The images from my dream flashed through my mind, but I was busy and mostly ignored them. Except to note that Alice wore a heather gray shirt, just like the one the dream had shown me.  

Between the Coaster and the Open Window

In the same vein as “Hearing Business,” theres a steady stream of topics Dad has impressed upon me this week. After hearing them all hit on in a podcast I listened to from Bethel, I felt an urgency to share. 

To be real, I don't feel like writing this. I also had an exiting experience today that I’m eager to share. This stream of prophetic words, however, needs to come first. It's a little tough to write, because I'm receiving from so many sources. And because I'm writing out of obedience, not zest and zeal (lol). 

"You were created for adventure - it's coming."

To simplify the variety of words and sources of confirmation, it seems like a good idea to first send you to "Today is the Day." This is a message given by Eric Johnson of Bethel. Below, I'll list off topics and various links to go to if you feel led, related to prophetic words Eric is speaking. To expedite the process, I'll also give you specific times to skip to in the podcast, or to listen for if you want to hear the whole thing. 

"New Roller Coaster Ride" (28:05 in podcast)

• On August 20th, I wrote "Roller Coaster Dream" about a dream God gave me. This post, along with the next, I am considering the "Part 2" I suggested would be upcoming. 
• A friend who goes by Lutherleser commented on the post that he'd also had a roller coaster dream. We talked about it more in depth over Facebook. The term "Storm the Gates" stuck out to me. 

"Stepping into greater revelation of Jesus." (12:15) and "Into the Unknown" (22:00) 

• A friend many of you probably know, Praying Medic, is writing a series of stories, Borgen - A Demon's Tale, to help equip and teach on the spirit realm. In Part 6, "The Blue Eyed Man," the main character meets Jesus. In the comments below, Praying Medic says "By the way, I have absolutely NO idea where the blue eyed man is going or what will happen next in the story."

             I thought that was pretty excellent. "Headed into the unknown. Whoop! I must say, I have never been so captivated 

             by another person's illustration of Jesus. I feel so refreshingly drawn to him, like I woke up excited as Christmas to 

             be closer to him today. Thanks, I haven't been so excited about anything in a while."

          (Borgen - A Demon's Tale parts 1 through 7 can be found here.)

• "Engaging Mount Zion,"  a message from The Company of Burning Hearts given July 15th, is relevant here. I won't pinpoint specific times to jump to, but if you have time give it a listen. It's compliments "Today is the Day" nicely. 

"Find out where the wind is blowing..." (19:20 through 21:45)

• Beneath the link to "Hearing Business" I shared on Facebook, I had a brief conversation:                                Praying Medic: "So Kaylani - I'm definitely hearing a lot more about finances that I ever have before and it's coming form a lot of different places, just as you found to be true. As offensive as it is to a lot of people in the IC, I think Dad wants to establish an alternative way of funding the stuff we do. Breaking away from the traditional models and creating a kingdom method this is radically different than what's been done in the past.

             Kaylani Lee Steele: "Uh yeeeaahhh! In conjuntion I'm hearing "storm the gates" and "end of the age" from lots of
             direction, along with Amos 3:7. I think you're right, and we are going ot have a lot of say in what the new methods
             look like. 

            Luther Leser: "Storm the gates with weapons of joy or like I suggested? I've heard that yours and mine needn't be 

            opposed..."

            Kaylani Lee Steele: "Have you watched the movie Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind?... I think Nausicaa's tactics

            are an amazing illustration of our ideas working in harmony."

• Praying Medic wrote a blog post called "Raising The Dead," to which I refer in my comment to him.

• Luther Leser watched Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind, and shared the following notes with me:

It goes this way: when confronted with (X) --> she reacts with (z)

outrage --> light and whistling

fear --> endurance and love

killing --> saving and leading back

too much power/enemies --> being quiet/withdrawal

being shot at --> no fear of dying

imminent death --> threatening it with a weapon

And it's said about her that she can read the wind (insert Holy Spirit) like a book. 

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The main reason I shared the above list was an effort to further demonstrate my listening process. I tend to pin point a few key phrase or words, and Dad elaborates on them through other people. I'm going to make an effort to sum all this up, because it was vital in preparing me for the day I've had and am so excited to share. 

I receive my identity from Jesus. The more intimately I know him, the more intimately I know myself. The more intimately I know Jesus and myself, the more trust I have to step into the unknown; to step up, belt in, and let the ride role.

As the Church, we are beginning to recognize that the hunger we've carried for so long isn't a hunger for healing, revolution, miracles, or glory. It's a hunger for Jesus. The healing, revolution, miracles, glory, and more are by-products of our relationship with our King. They're awesome, but they can't satiate our hunger like he can. 

We're headed into the unknown. If you're feeling bored or stagnant, know that there's a wild ride ahead. You were created for adventure - it's coming. Take this time to allow yourself to find the Wind and hear her whispers. The weapons we wielded in line won't do us any good once we step onto the ride. We are a generation of prophets, hearing Holy Spirit and speaking her words into action. We are a generation of healers, releasing new identity and new destiny with each gust of new wind. We are a generation of adventurers, engaging alternate realities and unafraid of the unknown. We are a generation walking in the fulness of our identities, in intimate relationship with Jesus, unlike any before us.


(*Note: sorry about the formatting issues. They're driving me nuts.)