Unless you’ve lived it, it’s hard to explain. Unless you’ve
seen it firsthand, and paid close enough attention to catch shifting of the
eye, the licking of the lips, or some telltale sign the individual is wholly
unaware they are giving off, you’d be hard-pressed to doubt that they are truly
gifted in the mystic arts or some such.
I come from a land steeped in mysticism and folklore, where
caravans of gypsies still roam the lands, selling hand-tooled cookware, and
offering to read your future for a small, one-time fee, usually determined on
the spot depending on how rich the mark seems.
Whether it’s reading palms, tea leaves, coffee grounds, cards,
or chicken bones, what the so-called practitioners of the mystic arts actually
do for the most part, is read body language and emotion, drawing conclusions
based on seemingly innocuous questions they ask as they are getting ready to
make a connection with the other side. As I said, for the most part, it’s all a
farce, having more to do with perception and educated guesses than it does with
anything mystical.
I was seven years old when I had my first run-in with a gypsy
woman who was something more than just a con artist. She was part of a caravan
traveling through our village, something rare enough even in those days to make
me run to the fence circling our property to try and sneak a peek. I was
standing on a bench, so I could get a better view, watching the horse-drawn
carriages rolling by on the dusty road, when a woman with braided hair and
colorful, flowing skirts broke from the pack, walked up, and said she would
tell me my future for a cup of water.
For a seven-year-old it sounded like a fair trade, especially
since I wanted to know if my grandpa would be taking me fishing later that
week, so I agreed to the terms, and she asked for my hand. I extended my hand,
palm up, just as she’d shown me to do it, but when she touched my skin, she
recoiled as though she’d touched an open flame. Her eyebrows arched, she
muttered ‘you’re one of them,’ turned around, and walked away without speaking
another word, or asking for her cup of water.
I didn’t understand all that had happened at the time, but
looking back, with the benefit of hindsight and experience, I realize she was
one of the rarer fortune tellers in the world, who had actually tapped into the
esoteric, or what we more readily refer to as the occult. I also realize that
she was powerless to do anything because even at that age, He that was in me
was greater than he that is in the world.
As servants of God, as Ambassadors of Christ in this world,
it is not only counterproductive but outright sinful to pretend at possessing
revelatory power, when all that a vast majority are doing is nothing more than
reading tea leaves.
Just because someone pays attention and they see the trajectory
of something and where it might lead, does not mean they received prophetic
utterance or revelation. For them to spin it as such is sin no matter how you
cut it.
Yes, I believe true prophecy still exists. Yes, I believe
there is divine revelation, whether through dreams, visions, or prophetic utterance.
What I do not believe is that God has to compete with the evening news.
When
God gives revelation it is far enough in advance that what is being prophesied seems
so out of place and improbable that the vessel chosen to deliver the warning is
thought of as mad.
If you do not possess it, pray for discernment that you may
know the difference between those who pretend at possessing power, and those
who possess it. One clear and undeniable indicator is that those pretending at
having power will attempt to highlight, promote, and otherwise elevate
themselves. Those possessing true power will always point you to Christ.
With love in Christ,
Michael Boldea Jr.
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