It’s the last day and it is always just enough time to be away. The final speaker was supposed to be Mike Patin, but because of some scheduling mis-hap it was Bob McCarty. In my mind there was no mistake, Bob was supposed to talk because he spoke to me.
It was like God was speaking directly through Bob to tell me that all I have done, experienced and worked for has come to fruition. I am a prophet of God and I come to speak truth in a prophetic way. I was killed by my “own” people but I am not dead. It is now time to be raised!
I need to put my story down. I need to continue to live a life worthy of Christ. To be a living witness of a strong, faithful woman, mother, wife, daughter and friend. I need to tell everyone the good news of what God has done and is doing in my life to bring hope to others.
Halfway through Bob’s talk, I began to sob! I had to leave and only the people at my table saw me go. I was grateful because they were all strangers to me and didn’t understand what had happened or what was happening. I was simply overcome by emotion.
I have rarely shed a tear through this whole thing. I’ve grieved friendships, trust/mentor relationships, a job, and a way of life all without a real “breakdown".” I’ve been strong because I knew God was in it. He’s been there all along! But when Bob started to talk about how prophets are either beloved or killed, I really understood it was all I’d hoped for, a REAL affirmation that God has been there and HE is proud of me.