If you ask 100 people this question, you will probably get 100 different answers. This has led most people to believe that nothing is true. It has also led many people to believe that everything is true. Today there are not very many people that believe that there is only One Truth.
Of course, you may wonder how I could be so confident. Perhaps you are wondering if my truth is going to cancel out what you believe to be true. Whether anyone believes the truth, it will still be true. Truth is not dependent on belief. However, it is nice to verify the truth. I can help you with that.
So what is true? This blog will tell you, but this first post is just the tip of the iceberg.
When I was 12 years old, I wanted to know more about the Truth that my grandfather held so closely to him. He preached about Jesus and believed that there was only One God. Many things he taught contradicted what the majority of Christians taught. He also lived more like Jesus than the majority of any Christians I’ve met.
I set out one day to prove what he taught was wrong. It just didn’t seem possible to me that the majority of Christians could be in error, while my one grandfather was right. I studied the Bible and found that everything my grandfather taught was backed up by the Bible, and was very confused as to how many Christians didn’t see this. It made me want it more.
Now, you might be wanting to stop right here if you don’t believe the Bible is legit. Let me assure that the evidence I will present is not just a bunch of Bible verses.
I asked to be baptized in Jesus name, and fully expected to receive the gift of the Holy Spirit just like I had read in the Bible. However, it took me over two years. On October the 15, 2000, I got it. I received the gift of the Holy Spirit just like it happened to 120 people in the book of Acts chapter 2. It was real. I know it was real. If you were there, you would know it too. I don’t expect you to believe me yet if you are the skeptical type.
Because it took me so long to get this gift, I didn’t want to lose it. I was worried that it would take me two more years to get it back. I devised a plan to keep it. I prayed every day for about six months straight. When I prayed, I didn’t stop until I received the gift again. I was the first one to church in the prayer room praying. I was the first one to the altar after service praying. I made a corner of my bedroom an altar. I was immersed in this gift for several months.
Then one night I had a dream.
This was no ordinary dream. In fact, no dream I’ve ever had was ordinary. I’m 31 years old, and I can count on one hand how many dreams I’ve been able to remember when I woke up the next morning. I sleep so deeply that when I close my eyes, I open them a second later and it is morning. Despite the rarity of the dream, the dream itself was not ordinary. It was so real. It happened 16 years ago, and it still effects me today.
In the dream, I was sitting in a large auditorium next to a lady with long dark brown hair that I knew to be my wife. I couldn’t see the front of our faces, as I was watching myself from behind. There was a preacher on a platform who was preaching to a crowd of about a thousand people. He stopped preaching and began to prophesy about a man that God had called for a great mission. He then proceeded to list details about this man without naming him. I knew immediately that he was talking about me. He asked the man (me) to come forward while he continued to list more and more details about me. At first, the details were so vague that only I could know. Then they started getting more and more specific to the point that I knew I had to go up there.
I sat still.
Finally, people around me began to say that they thought he might be talking about me. At last, I could resist no longer. (I realized much later on that this signified my hesitation in accepting my calling.) I let go of the seat in front of me, and the red blood began to overtake the whiteness of my knuckles. I stepped out and walked to the front. The preacher called over many other preachers, and some of them I recognized. They all put their hands on me and began to pray anointing over my life.
I opened my eyes and saw my bedroom, then shut my eyes and returned to the dream. I went in and out of the dream for a second until I settled back into reality. The dream had felt as real as my room. When I came to, I was sitting straight up in by bed speaking in a language I didn’t know (I’ll explain this in a later post). Tears were streaming down my face, and I could feel a presence surrounding me. I know that presence was God. The Creator of the universe. How could I doubt that this was God?
I went on for about a year denying that the dream was from God. I even started denying that it had happened. I tried unsuccessfully to forget the dream. I did not tell anyone about it because I thought that would make it more real, and harder to forget. I just bottled it up inside my mind and kept it to myself. I thought that if I ignored it long enough, it would just go away.
Try as I may, I could not forget that dream. In fact, God refused to let me forget it. One Sunday morning in church when I was 16 years old, Pastor Stan Davidson was preaching about calling and purpose. He was saying that everyone had one. I remember distinctly trying to suppress the memory of that dream while he preached. Pastor Davidson was pacing back and forth across the platform while he spoke. In mid-sentence and mid-stride he stopped and stared at the ground for about 30 seconds in deep thought. Then he turned toward me and marched right up to me. He put out his hand as if to shake mine, and I instinctively did the same. When our hands met, he yanked me up off my seat and pointed his finger at my face. He then began to speak to me words that have been burned into my mind for 15 years.
God gave you a dream! You’ve been trying to forget it. You’ve been trying to hide it in the back of your mind. You’ve told yourself that it was only a dream and that it wasn’t from God. But it was from God, and the dream did happen. God has a great mission for you, and one day millions of people will be saved by it. So many people that when you get to Heaven, many will try to bow down to you, but you have to be man enough to say – It wasn’t me, it was Him – and point to the throne of Jesus.
This was undoubtedly a message for God. There is no way he could have known that:
- I had a dream from God. (He could have said vision or voice)
- I was trying to forget it, and at that exact moment, I was suppressing the memory.
- To use the words “Great Mission” which were also in my dream. (He could have used many other words if this were happenstance)
You may still be unconvinced but just wait.
At that point in my life I was under enormous pressure, and now I felt like a caged animal at the zoo. Everyone in the church heard that prophecy. Many people came up to me telling me that they knew God had something big for me. I felt like they were watching me 24/7 to see if I was going to call fire down from Heaven. This pressure increased as my grandfather got closer to passing away. I also had my high school graduation rapidly approaching which had become a deadline in my mind of when I was going to be required to do the “great mission.” There were a few problems with this in my mind.
- I did not think I was adequate to do any mission let alone a great one.
- I still wasn’t convinced that there was a real mission.
- I didn’t even know what this mission was.
Two weeks before I graduated, my grandfather died. Needless to say, I was devastated. My mind went into chaos mode. I had no idea what to do. With depression, fear, and tons of pressure on me… I did the only think I could think of.
For the next eight years, I got as far from God as I could. However, every day I was reminded of that dream, and I felt continuous tugging to come back to Him. I tried to be someone I wasn’t so that God would leave me alone. I did things, bad things, intentionally to get God to leave me alone. I wanted to disqualify myself for this “great mission” so that I could finally be at peace. Peace never came. The more I ran, the more God pulled. I could not escape it.
At 26 years old, I found myself 2000 miles away from my hometown in a place where no one from my past knew me, and no one in my present knew of my past. I had married a girl that didn’t have long dark brown hair like my dream, and I didn’t tell her anything about my dream or my past relationship with God. As far as she knew, I probably never even went to church.
One day she decided to go to a mega church and asked if I would join her. Of course, I said no. She went a couple more times, and each time asked me to go. Each time I said no. Finally, she asked me if I was ever going to go because she wanted to have kids soon, and she preferred that they were raised in the church. I then showed my cards a little, and said that I wasn’t going to church with her… and even if I did, I wouldn’t go to “that” church. She then pressed to figure out what I meant by “that” church. I put up some walls and avoided talking about it for as long as I could.
To make a long story short, my wife eventually convinced me to go to the church as long as we went to one that preached what my grandfather did. When I walked into The Point Church in Escondido, CA, I felt the presence of God for the first time in 8 years. No one there knew who I was, or what my background was, but an elderly man walked up to me after the service and said, “God has big plans for your life… But you already knew that.”
I flew under the radar for a couple of months. No one knew of my past, my calling, my dream, or my mission. As far as they knew, I was just a new convert off the street. I liked it that way.
A war began to take place in my mind. One side was saying that I had messed up too much, and the dream was over. The other side never stopped feeling the tug of the calling. The hardest part was doing it alone, but I felt like I couldn’t tell anyone. Who could understand this situation? People will think I’m crazy.
One Sunday I couldn’t take it any longer. I needed an answer. I went up to the front after service to pray. Because this war was a secret internal war of my mind, I prayed silently in my mind for an answer. I told God that I could not figure this out on my own. I needed to hear directly from Him. Does the dream still matter? Am I sill called for this “mission”? I then asked God to speak to me, and I was reminded instantly of the time when He spoke to all the people around Mount Sinai. They were so afraid of His voice because of the accompanying thunder and cloud of smoke and the trembling of the Earth. The people told Moses to tell God not to do that again. They said, “Tell God to talk to you, and then you talk to us.” So, I told God silently in my mind, “I’m not afraid of your voice… speak to me now!”
Right when I said (in my mind), “Speak to me now!”…. I mean right when I let the “w” of “now” process in my mind, a voice said:
I have not forgotten the dream that I gave you. I’ve given you a powerful gift, and you are going to use it soon.
I was a bit stirred up by this but had enough wit to realize that the voice was only in my left ear. I turned to my left and saw a man I had never met was the source of the voice. This is remarkable for a few reasons:
- He sat on the other side of the church, and I didn’t even know his name at that time.
- He grew up 2000 miles away from where I had that dream.
- He used the word “dream,” not vision, calling, etc.
- He spoke in the first person as if God spoke through him.
- No one there knew of my dream at this time. Not even my wife.
- The timing was unmistakably divine. No question.
So, What is true?
There is ONE God, and His name is Jesus… And he has spoken to me.
It is also true that I don’t quite know what my “great mission” is yet. However, I can no longer deny that it exists. Until I find out, I’m making it my mission to tell more people about the God that I know is true. Follow this blog if you want more evidence. I haven’t given you everything yet.
P.S. My non-brown-haired wife stopped dying her hair, and let it grow very long. Her natural color?
Jacob W. Jones