Promise Seeds - Jordan, Carlton
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She rubbed his arm with her free hand. "Now that your work here is done, I'll walk you to the fence. I have a little work to do myself." They looked at each other and Kim said, "You are full of smiles this evening, aren't you?" "I'm to tell you that things are about to change for you where names are concerned. I see someone named Victor. You know the man I'm talking about?" "No." "You will." "I'm to tell you there's a fight coming, Phillip, and the fight will be in the house of the Lord." Phillip thought to himself, Isn't it always? "Yes, Phillip, there's always a battle in the house of the…mehr

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Produktbeschreibung
She rubbed his arm with her free hand. "Now that your work here is done, I'll walk you to the fence. I have a little work to do myself." They looked at each other and Kim said, "You are full of smiles this evening, aren't you?" "I'm to tell you that things are about to change for you where names are concerned. I see someone named Victor. You know the man I'm talking about?" "No." "You will." "I'm to tell you there's a fight coming, Phillip, and the fight will be in the house of the Lord." Phillip thought to himself, Isn't it always? "Yes, Phillip, there's always a battle in the house of the Lord but not quite like this one. You are generally asked to step into someone else's battle, but the Lord is telling me this time you'll be at the center. Do you understand what the Lord is telling you?"
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Autorenporträt
My grandfather wrapped our house in prayer; my mother, in literary phrases. I can still hear her saying, "Water, water everywhere but not a drop to drink." They tendered words and prayer as gifts. I love words. I became an English teacher and then a consultant with a heavy focus reading and rewriting, wrestling for the perfect phrase and living in global revision. In 2009 I got divorced. I lost everything and joined the ranks of the working homeless. I slept in my car when not traveling for work. I wrote school review reports in coffeeshops. Stripped of all things in the natural, the Lord reminded me through one of his servants that I hadn't lost him. I was stripped of distraction and could now see him clearly that his blessing was never in things amassed; his blessing was in knowing him, and I would write about it, exploring facets of him and his Word. I would write about God's promises and his children waiting on him in a firm belief that his Word cannot be broken and that he cannot lie. He wakes me up in the middle of the night at times, and I have to write. He'll point out when flesh rises in the writing-when the writing is too full of itself, and he's not in it and what needs to be deleted. I've learned to write under his guidance, to write in the spirit.