TITLE: The Anointing
By Princess Carroll Ayo Durodola
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Saturday I woke up at 10 a.m. fully rested and feeling strangely free not knowing why.
After fixing breakfast I found myself looking up the town of Sandy Cove, on the internet, writing down their phone number and calling to book a room. Unbelievably, deep in the summer season they had a two-room bedroom suite available. It was $135 for one night. My whole being wanted to resist spending this much money for one night? Instead I said, “Oh why not. I’ll take it.” So I made a reservation for that night.
A few hours later on the other end of the State of Maryland I arrived at Sandy Cove, checked in, unloaded the car and decided to explore. Journal and red pen in hand I headed off to the water front. Walking along the water front on the gravel stone road the water was beautiful, alive and vibrant beneath the waves which were strong and kept lapping loudly up on the shore. The sky was blue and the puffy white clouds lined up perfectly across the horizon like ships with round sails, parading by.
After awhile I entered the huge community hall and sat at one of the café tables. I relaxed looking out of the huge bay window enjoying the cool air inside, as a praise dancer warmed up near me. Angelically dressed in a flowing silky white robe with long sleeves, she went through her paces and then was joined by another. They danced beautifully together. When they finished their warm-up and as they gathered their sandals, I was compelled to ask,
“Is there a Service going on nearby that anyone can come to?”
“Yes” they said together, “Follow us to the church among those trees.”
They pointed to a place outside the back door of the hall and beckoned me to follow them.
I entered the small country chapel and found a seat towards the back and began to write furiously about this surreal moment that seemed to have been planned from the beginning of my day.
The saints began to gather as the chapel filled up. Caucasian, African American, and Asian - all filled the country house of worship. I was blessed by the congregational hymns, the dancers and the solos and then the preacher was brought to the pulpit.
She was perhaps five feet tall and slim, dressed in a cute business suit. Her hair was cut very short and she began to preach about the temptations of Jesus, calling her lesson “Anointing Under Fire”.
She talked about how Jesus was anointed but had to be proved by testing and that we also, though anointed, will have to be tested. Our tests may be even more intense because we are anointed. It’s as if God has to break us open so that He can pour Himself into us when we are anointed by Him. For this reason she said, many people are afraid of being anointed even though they know this is the only way to be successful in the service of the Lord. They are afraid because they know testing will come.
She said that just because you passed a trial once doesn’t mean you will pass it the next time. In the story of Jesus’ temptations it ends with the statement that Satan went away until a more opportune time. Satan kept coming back to tempt Jesus. She said, that Satan wants to shake your dependency on God, so he suggested to Jesus that He might not be the son of God by saying “if you are the son of God…” I was being shaken – was I really called to write?”
The preacher then went on to say that there are no shortcuts with God. You will have to work, she said and sometimes very hard. God usually works through process. God blesses the work. His process must be waited on. If what we want or call success comes too early it could become a curse. Wait on the Lord and He will renew your strength.
The preacher then taught how the next thing Satan wants to do is make us say negative words out of our mouths. He is waiting for our words. Without them he can do nothing.
Then she went for the core of what was my issue. If I didn’t have this issue I may have gone further in my writing and storytelling. She told the story of being called to the ministry just after she had got a very high paying job, and having to tell her mother that she would have to quit her job to do what God was calling her to do. Her mother had a fit, shouting at her that she would never agree to such nonsense. Her mother was also a follower of Jesus, but she couldn’t see how this made any sense. The preacher knew she would have to go against her mother and obey God.
I look so intently at what my dad thinks of me that I can hardly do God’s work that He has ordained through me. I know God is calling me to do a lot of things but I know if I tell my dad he will say it doesn’t make sense and that the devil could be talking to me. We will be at odds because I know it is God – and I’m afraid of being at odds with my dad.
The preacher woman said, lastly, Satan is trying to shake up your destiny in God. Sometimes we want God to prove Himself before we do what He says. We want Him to prove it with a contract, fame and acclaim, basic provisions. Instead of looking for that, she said look at how He has proved Himself so far – this morning, food today, a car, clothes you wear. What more does God have to do?
What has God required of me, I wrote in my journal? To write. To write everyday. To write a lot during the day. To send query letters. To write proposals and do what needs to be done to be published so that He can speak to many through my writings. All I have to do is obey. Obey and beware of the attack on my anointing.
Then the preacher said she was going to be a bit unorthodox and ask if there was anyone there who wanted to be anointed. Did anyone need a fresh anointing to do the work God had asked of them? If there was she asked that they would join her at the altar. I sat back and relaxed. Surely not me, I thought. I was already anointed. All I had to do was act on it…but before I knew it I was gathering up red pen and journal and heading to the altar at the front of the church. There I was singing along with the others, “Anointing of God Fall Afresh on Me” over and over as I worshipped this God for bringing me two hours away from my home for a fresh anointing to write.
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