My information said that the meeting started at two o’clock or so, but I didn’t have the chance to get there until a couple more hours after that. Besides, I wasn’t sure about it, so I wanted to arrive after they were well under way.

By the time four o’clock rolled around, I was quite lost in the county roads trying to find the place: It was already dark, and I was looking for an old barn, maybe half a mile from the nearest paved road so finding it was no easy task. I backtracked, tried the turnoff that I’d passed by a couple of miles back, saw another truck pulling into a dirt road, and headed down the same way. The road ended at a place that was obviously not what I was looking for, but we turned off just before that, wound around some sharp corners, and emerged into a field full of parked cars surrounding a barn, looking in the dark like a flock of baby chicks around their mother hen. Out of the barn came the sound I was expecting, the sound I was looking for. When I heard it, I realized how much I’d been longing for it.

I parked my truck and walked through the parked vehicles towards the barn; I noticed some older SUVs, some fancy new cars; the variety caught my attention. There were a handful of other folks arriving, and we said very little as we approached the barn: words weren’t actually necessary. This was also the sound that they were looking for; their faces showed the same sense of expectation that I was feeling.

We slid the door open, and the sound washed over us. It was palpable, nearly physical, though it wasn’t all that loud. Inside were maybe a hundred people. Twenty or thirty of them were playing instruments, men and women, black, white and others, young and old. The instruments were equally diverse: guitars, keyboards, drums from America, from Africa, from Ireland, from Asia, from places I'd never heard of. Even a didgeridoo from Australia, wired into the sound system. There were young kids playing drums and rhythm instruments. Most of the sound came from the instruments and from the several people singing into microphones. There was a basic sound system set up, but it was obvious that this was no show.

Nobody but the handful that entered with me even knew that we had arrived. Maybe twenty people had their hands in the air, others were kneeling, still more were dancing or waving flags. Some were visiting together near the tables in the back, tables piled high with food and drink. Kids played on the dirt floor. They took nothing away from the worship.

I worked my way to the back of the room. I was trying not to disturb the worshippers, but I needn’t have bothered: most of them were oblivious of my passage; those that were greeted me with the great bear hugs of old friends or the whole-hearted hugs of family; it didn’t seem to matter if they knew me before that day or not. The diversity of people struck me again: these were people from almost every imaginable background, age, race, socio-economic group, religious persuasion.

The music never took a breath. There were a couple of microphones set up where anybody could walk right up and sing along with the music; those mics were nearly always busy, with intricate harmonies and counterpoints accentuating songs that nobody had ever heard before. Before I realized it, four or five hours had passed.

There were a hundred people there, and people were coming and going throughout the night. But the audience had only One. His presence filled the room like birdsong in the spring, like a welcome home after a long journey. There were a hundred voices singing a hundred different songs, all blended into one glorious chorus, and our Audience roared back His approval.

This was worth getting lost in the backwoods county roads for. This was worth being part of.

An Underground Gathering

It's come to my attention that battle comes before victory. The outpouring of the Spirit in our area will come after a season of battle. What does the battle look like? What I'm beginning to see surprises me. I've been looking over my dream journal and noticed some changes in the things I dream about.

Jesus often spoke in parables - if you read about why he did that, it was because God wanted to do two things; He wanted to reveal the secrets of His kingdom, but He wanted them to be revealed only to those whose hearts would receive and believe them. The ones who wanted to know what God was saying had to unravel the mysteries in the parables and they came up with some radical things.

Those who didn't care about the kingdom of heaven, would hear his teaching (and be held accountable for it) but go on about their lives, as if it didn't matter.

Dreams are a lot like parables. To most people they're just a bunch of odd things we don't understand. It's hard for most people to accurately interpret dreams, because they don't understand the language of them. But to those who are interested in the secrets of heaven, dreams are like little treasure chests waiting to be opened.

Around Christmas, I began having dreams about warfare and weapons. I never had much of that before. Most of my dreams are about praying for people to be healed or things like that.

The dreams about weapons were training dreams. In one, I was learning about new weapons technology in archery and in another dream I with a team of people being trained for a military assignment. In another dream I traded in a bunch of junk for a high-tech handgun with a laser sight. I couldn't understand how the sight worked, how the gun loaded or fired, but when I pointed it across the street it fired off 2 rounds.

Looking further back in my dream journal to November, I saw the phrase "learning about..." coming up over and over.

In one dream I was 'learning about' playing guitar. In another dream I was 'learning about' singing. I was with a group of people taking voice lessons from a professional voice coach. And in a third dream I was taking dancing lessons with a group of people from a professional dance instructor.

Dreams are like a river. There is a flow and a direction to them and if you follow them, they take you to a destination. When I put all these dreams together, what God is telling me is:

1) I just entered a new season in my life.

2) The subject of my attention should be on weapons & warfare during this time.

3) I have little understanding of the warfare and weapons, so equipping and training are the first steps.

4) I know most dreams are symbolic or like parables, so the warfare isn't literally against people. We are called to be at peace with all men.

5) Jesus and the apostles had much to say about a kingdom of darkness and a kingdom of light. They insisted there is a spiritual battle going on, even though it's invisible to most people. Therefore I must conclude that I'm not being asked to do literal warfare against people, but spiritual warfare against the forces of the enemy. There are no other options.

4) The weapons I'm being trained to use are primarily dance, musical instruments, and singing. (I kinda like that)

If you look through the Old Testament you find the tribes of Israel doing things like singing and dancing in preparation for war. Sometimes that was all they actually did, and God gave them victory immediately afterward. He seems to be bringing back a play from a really old playbook.

Last thought - in light of other dreams and messages I've had, I also know God is going to bring a great spiritual awakening to Olympia. My guess is that will involve some serious warfare to destroy enemy strongholds and dethrone principalities first. That warfare might get loud with all the people singing, dancing and playing their weapons at full blast.

Weapons of a Different Kind