Journal Entry Part 1

In a previous post I said I would talk about this journal entry because I think it happens to be one of the coolest in terms of answered prayers. This is gonna be a two part post though because I think there are some other things at play that affected this and I don’t want it to be a super long post so I’m gonna break it in two and break it down.

I mentioned in a previous post about writing in  my journal and asking God about going to the 7M Gen Camp. That was only one part of my journal entry. I’m going to write the rest of it down and then explain what happened next. So here it is….

 Tuesday June 21st, 2016

Hey God, There is this Lance Walloon retreat from July 30th to August 6th. It’s $1500 bucks to go, and I would really like to attend. Mom sent me the e-mail about it and it sounds amazing to me. Please help me sort it out, I’d love to go and spend a week there and recharge and focus on you. That’s the place I’d like to be for 7 days. I am also waiting to hear back from Mary about the NY gig. It’s possible I could be working in NY very soon. I’m not sure if I could live in the van while in the city, but I’m open to trying. I don’t know how the next few weeks are going to unfold. Sam and I have talked, but not talked about breaking up yet, and that needs to happen. Dear God, please open up and knock down some crazy financial doors and opportunities in the coming days. I hope to see you in July at the conference. Amen, Jordan. P.s. Can’t sleep just thinking about it. 


This was on a Tuesday while working in Pennsylvania. I wasn’t having the best time at work, and I had kept pushing off the chance to talk to Sam and have the break up chat. I just couldn’t do it. Deep down something was eating at me and I needed to get it out. Now that’s all I wrote in my journal that week, but it was definitely weighing on my heart and mind.

Here’s where it gets awesome. Remember that church where I had gone and received that awesome prophetic word? Well I hadn’t been back there since, between work and being out of town, I just hadn’t made an effort to really go. But something was nagging at me and I needed/wanted to go back. It was a small church, and kinda odd, but I liked it. They definitely were a passionate group of believers, and I liked being there. Besides, last time I went I had a great prophetic word spoken over me, it was worth revisiting.

Well I decided to go back on the coming Sunday, and I’m glad I did. Same thing as last time, small group of adults, not a lot of kids there, and I was the youngest adult in the room by a few years. No big deal, these guys were cool and friendly and they remembered me and were glad to see me. For whatever reason they had decided to do something different for their main church sermon that day. Instead of the pastor speaking to everyone, all the adults made a half circle at the front of the room and we all drew a name out of a jar. Whoever’s name you pulled, you would offer them communion bread and juice, and pray for them. I’ve never seen communion done this way before, but it was pretty cool. It was very intimate, and only something you could do with a small group, but it was very moving. Sometimes it seems it’s the simple things that leave the most room for God to show up. And based on past experience with this church, I was kinda hoping God would show up.

So everyone drew a name, I was the last to go so I just watched and listened. The guy next to me had drawn my name, and when he came to pray with me, he said something so simple it was almost non consequential. But basically he said something along the lines of “Jesus loves you and you are precious to him just as you are”. Now dealing with everything in my mind, this was somehow something I needed to hear. I was feeling very broken, unwanted, sinful, and flat-out unworthy to be in the room. I remember thinking to myself that I don’t deserve to even walk into the church with all the sin I was carrying around on my heart. Obviously a lie from the enemy, but it was a good one and I almost believed it. But whenever that guy next to me said those words, it slowly lifted something off my heart. After he finished, it was my turn to pray and offer communion to someone. I drew the pastor’s name. Not awkward at all. He seemed pretty cool, and I was actually looking forward to praying with him. I had been thinking about what I would say for a few minutes, but ultimately it just poured out and I felt that God had given me a word for him so I shared that. Based off of his reaction I would say it probably was the right word that God had given me. But that’s not even the cool part. After all was said and done and things were wrapping up, all the adults took a minute to pray from someone who wasn’t in the room who was dealing with some serious health issues. Once they were finished with that someone had asked if there was anyone else who needed prayer…….. I reluctantly yet quickly raised my hand.

The next couple of minutes that unfolded were very new for me. I’ve never really met these people before other than the last time I was at their church. But something compelled me to speak up when they asked if anyone else needed prayer. And for the next 5 minutes I proceeded to pour my heart out and cry over how much of a wreck my life was and all the pain I was dealing with. Basically through tears I was able to blurt out that I had never received a word like I did the last time I was in this church. I was very sure that God had shown up both times in this room. The weeks that followed that prophetic word were absolutely terrible and hard, and for the most part my solution was to drink, smoke, and continue with a relationship I knew I wasn’t supposed to be in. Amidst all of this, work was sucking really bad and I felt completely rejected and dejected and abandoned on every level. I had no one to talk to, and I had a lot to get off my chest. Phew, breathe, tears, breath, sob, relax. Somehow they understood what I was saying, and recognized that I was pouring out my heart and confessing some major sin battles that were occurring in my life. There was no condemnation in their eyes, only hurt and understanding. I was reassured that they had all been in similar situations and knew where I was coming from and they all surrounded me and began to pray forgiveness, and hope, and just straight anointing over me. Honestly I’ve never done that before in front of strangers, and the only reason I raised my hand was because something inside of me knew that I needed to take the opportunity and step out and put it all on the line. It was terrifying, my heart was racing faster than the time I turned in my two week notice at the news station, I couldn’t catch my breath, every part of my body was saying don’t do it, and yet at the same time, I had to put it out there.

After they had finished praying over me, someone anointed me with some oil, and the pastor’s wife handed me a wooden rod that had just been broken in half. The broken rod was to symbolize the sin that was in my life, and the power of Christ being able to break those strongholds in half. It was to serve as a reminder of confessing my sins with all of them as witnesses.

If you’ve checked out by this point, I understand. Sometimes Christianity isn’t for everyone and if you aren’t totally familiar with the culture, some of this probably sounds crazy. I get it, it’s cool, meet me at the next blog post. But if you made it this far and kind of know what I’m talking about, then I would say that if you have never experienced this moment of just laying it all out on the line in front of others, you totally should. It is probably one of the most terrifying and yet freeing moments I have ever experienced. There was such a weight lifted off of my soul that day,  I truly felt like I could breathe again.

Anyway, I went home that day with a better sense of who I was, and who I wanted to be. One more step towards God. I’ll tell you what happened next, because as usual, it gets better. However, this blog is now 1500 words so it’s time to start another one.

Stand by for some more awesome.











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