The Following Account was Written in Celebration of the Ten Year Anniversary of Meeting   Ruth Ward Heflin on April 8, 1997 & My Ordination on August 31, 1997    In loving memory of Rev Ruth Ward Heflin Who passed into the Glory on September 15, 2000     My life was dramatically and profoundly changed by a remarkable chain of events that led to Divine Encounters and Appointments.   Life has never been the same!   To the Glory of His Grace!!   SELAH MINISTRIES Carla Reed, Minister 21200 E Country Vista Dr   Apt L-104 Liberty Lake, WA 99019 Phone: 509-599-0433 Cell: 605-376-0033   Email: selahministries@hotmail.com www.carlareed.com     SO, HOW DID YOU GET STARTED?   How did you get started?   This is a question I am frequently asked when people find out what I do.  Having traveled for over 10 years by faith, I have now crossed the nation repeatedly. I’ve felt the mandate of the Lord to travel to all 50 states. To date, I have personally driven into all lower 48 states on ministry and prayer trips, with the exception of three when I flew into Boston in 2005 and a friend drove her car.  Many people shake their heads in amazement at my travels.  Some have sized me up and wondered how it could have happened to one such as I.  Surely the Lord has called us to become signs and wonders and testify of His Glory and Grace.   To explain, I must go back to one of the most remarkable events in my life. In the year 1997, I met an amazing lady named Ruth Ward Heflin.  Little did I suspect my destiny would be tied to hers and that a straightforward word of prophecy would launch me into a 10 year journey of extensive travel and ministry across America.   For many years I had been restless, hoping there was more to my life than what I was experiencing and feeling the gentle tug of the Holy Spirit concerning full time ministry.  I would quickly run into a wall of doubt and unbelief, namely my own. I didn’t like the idea of women preachers, or the stigma of divorce while being in ministry.  It seemed I would be a walking target for skeptics and critics.   Having suffered through a divorce in 1991, and being a single mom, I had decided to go back to college and graduated in 1995.  I finished with a Bachelor of Fine Arts degree from Dakota Wesleyan University in Mitchell, South Dakota.  It is my home state, and I was born in Yankton, the Mother City of the Dakotas.  Yankton is in the southeast corner bordering Nebraska and the Missouri River serves as the border that separates the two states.  Yankton is also on the Lewis and Clark Trail.   This would become very significant later on in my travels when I began my water journey across the northwest.   After finishing my degree in December 1995, I faced the difficult decisions of what to do next. It had been my heart’s desire to finish what I had started just out of high school many years earlier, and I loved being in the college atmosphere.  I considered applying to a state university to study for a master’s degree in Fine Arts.  However, in my heart of hearts, I wanted to be a minister. Nearly 10 years before the Lord had suddenly dropped the call to ministry in my heart.  I had buried the dream along with what I felt were  disqualifying factors: first, a divorce, secondly, being a woman, and thirdly, my timidity and fear of public speaking.  Somehow, my heart didn’t reason with my head and the call of the Lord on my life was too precious to ignore.      So it was, after the hectic four semesters of study and exams that I found myself, in January 1996, with time to pray and consider my options.  It was at that time I felt the Lord whisper to my spirit, “Why don’t you give Me a semester of your time?”  I had been living in Mitchell,  in a subsidized housing apartment that gave me the freedom to go back to school.  My daughter, Anne, had graduated in 1994 from Mitchell Christian School and my youngest son, Joshua, was enrolled in third grade.  I was teaching some piano lessons to supplement my income in addition to the child support I was receiving.  It was a perfect time to read and pray.  I began to pull books off the shelf that had been given to me to read.  One of them was a book by Rick Joyner concerning the harvest that stirred my heart and opened my mind to prophetic ministry.  I found myself yearning to be able to speak a word in season in the same way I had appreciated the words spoken to me on a few occasions.   Later that summer, I decided to drive myself and Joshua to Toronto Airport Fellowship in Toronto, Canada.  Until that point, I had never considered driving so far, but I was compelled of the Lord to go.  My daughter was working a summer job in Michigan at a Christian Youth Camp, and I reasoned we could also stop to see her on our way.  As I was nervously considering the trip, I received several warnings from well-meaning Christians about going to ‘that place’.  It seemed they did strange things and the whole movement was being questioned and challenged as people discerned if it was of God or not.  Despite some fears and concerns, the Lord graciously supplied me with the courage to go anyway, and I had the confidence to check it out for myself.   Once I arrived in Toronto, I was met with unforgettable scenes of manifestations and felt the overpowering sense of the Lord’s presence. Instead of wanting to run, I wanted to put up a tent and camp out right in the middle of the sanctuary.  I was mystified by what I saw happening, and even more so, by my strange attraction to it.  I found myself crying and weeping, amazed that I had somehow despite my timidity and fears, driven to such a place.  Joshua, age 10, was totally at home in that strange atmosphere and entered in with the abandonment of a child.  For the first time in my life, I found my feet dancing a step and doing a skip, or two. I had not been raised in such a church. In fact, in my teen and college years, I had attended a Nazarene church and college. To them, dancing was taboo and certain sin.  So I looked in amazement at the abandonment of dancers worshipping and longed for such a freedom myself.  It looked like fun, and I began to ask the Lord to teach me how to dance.  Joshua had no trouble dancing, and I knew if my family and certain  friends saw us, we would surely be branded as heretics.  Yet, I danced those beginning halting steps with the confident hope that no one knew me there.        PREPARING FOR CHANGE   When I arrived home later in the summer, I was faced with the decision of enrolling Joshua back in the Christian school or home-schooling.  I had been praying about it, and Joshua was more than ready to be home-schooled.  It seemed I heard the Lord ask me one day, “If you thought I was taking you out to travel, what would you do to prepare?”  I knew one thing was that we would need the freedom to go and not be concerned about missing school days. With that, I just did not enroll him that fall, and we began our home studies.  It was soon to prove itself wise, as I had an opportunity to drive to Elk City, Oklahoma that October, 1996 and take my mother with me.   At the time, my youngest sister, Brenda, was in full time children’s ministry and she was helping with a crusade led by a lady evangelist named Velma Childers.  Velma was from Kentucky and had been in ministry many years; because Brenda knew her, they would sometimes work together in meetings.    Another factor at the time was that my daughter, Anne, had finished two years of school at Bartlesville Wesleyan College and was doing a ministry internship with my sister, Brenda. She would be leaving with Brenda and Velma soon after the Elk City  meetings to go to Hawaii for six months to work with inner city churches and holding children’s crusades. I had wanted to see them before they left, and my mother had offered to pay for the expenses if I would drive, as she wanted to go also.   Little did I suspect that something would happen in those meetings in Elk City that would determine a major life shift the next spring.   While I was at the meetings, I heard Velma, a divorced woman, preach and minister. The strong wooing and voice of the Holy Spirit would cause me to think and say, “I want to do that... I can do that.”  One night in particular would change my life.       ISRAEL   One night, Velma got up and spoke about her upcoming trip to Israel in December. She shared about the tour itself and that as part of the trip,  they would be leaving from New York City with plans to visit David Wilkerson’s church at Times Square.  Then she asked those who would like to go to Israel to stand to their feet.  I can’t tell you what happened to me, but suddenly, my feet became springs as I jumped up and  found myself standing.  Anne, my daughter was sitting next to me at the time. She said, “Mom, I just knew you were going to stand up,” but there were looks of surprise on her face and mine.  By the time I’d sat down, I had an overwhelming burning and yearning to go to Israel. In the past, I had occasionally thought about it as in, “Well, that would be nice… someday.”  However, after that meeting, it felt urgent.  I had only six weeks to prepare, plus I needed $2000 within a week for the deposit.  Impossible?   While still in Oklahoma, I remember visiting with Velma.   She looked at me earnestly and said, “Somehow, I feel you’re supposed to go to Israel with me.”  I had also shared with Velma the strange stirrings and desire in me to travel.  It seemed I’d gotten travel fever, and I longed to see what was beyond my limited world in Mitchell, South Dakota.   To be able to go to Israel, I would need $2000 and someone to care for Joshua, 10 years old, while I was gone. The trip was originating in Honolulu, Hawaii, and the mainlanders would be leaving out of Jacksonville, FL. I would be the only mid-western tourist, and I would know only one person, Velma.  I was already being coaxed and stretched out of my comfort zone.    I’ve noticed in my walk with the Lord through the years that many times He gets us in a peculiarly tight situation.  We long to go forward, but our minds caution us, Stay put… Don’t venture out.  Thus, our fear and insecurities keep us locked into what we think is safe.  Rick Joyner once called it the 'tyranny of the familiar'.  Yet, there comes a moment when our fears of staying put and staying the same become greater than our fears of the unknown.  I have often had to ask myself this question, “How will I feel if I don’t go?”  Then the fearing of missing God’s highest and best becomes greater than my fear of failure.  I would rather fail ‘trying’ than rot ‘dying’ of boredom and indecision.       WITH CHANGE COMES CONLICT   Once I made my decision to go to Israel, I immediately applied for my passport. I had never had one since I had never been out of the country.  On the return trip back to Mitchell,  I was deeply impacted by the meetings in Elk City and the possible trip to Israel. I was excited and delighted with the possible adventure.  My mother was the only one not very excited about it. She had many grave concerns about the safety of traveling to Israel. She wondered where I would be leaving Joshua, and she knew she would not be able to keep him at her home.  She questioned my motives and the wisdom of going to Israel, and she was worried about what would happen to Joshua if something happened to me.  She just didn’t want me to go, period.  It was one of the few times, I’ve had to experience a strained relationship with my mother, whom I love very deeply. She had always been supportive of me, but the trip to Israel she could not support, and she let me know it.   I began to question if it was the Lord’s will after all as I walked through several difficult weeks of emotional strain and decision.  I had been so sure when I jumped to my feet while in the meetings in Elk City, and suddenly all my confidence was evaporating and disintegrating.   I have found it to be true that when you are about to embark on a major shift or change in your life, the greatest resistance will often come from family. And in the case of my mother, well-meaning and concerned family will challenge you.   One reason this is so is that we must eventually separate from family even as Abraham was required to do.  I am not talking about shunning or deserting your family, but knowing that the call of God does separate out those chosen for a special call and assignment.  First of all, it is necessary that we become so confident in the call of God we can resist the enemy’s attempts to thwart or detour our call.  Secondly, we must realize it is our personal call not the call of the others who question and resist us.  Indeed, their questions can serve to clarify and strengthen the resolve of our call and make us determined to follow the Lord’s leading, despite the challenges.  That determination will be invaluable as the years go by, and the call and purposes of our lives lead us into greater areas of conflict and influence.   Thus I had two major hurdles; I needed $2000 ASAP (as soon as possible) and I needed a safe place for Joshua to stay while I went on a tour to Israel.   Thus began the miraculous stories of the Lord’s provision and confirmation that I was indeed to go to Israel in December, 1996.  What I would not know until much later was that while in Jerusalem, I would come in contact with a book called “Glory” written by Ruth Ward Heflin. And, that book would be the catalyst to change my life, launch me into full time ministry, and direct my destiny. Ah, the amazing workings of the Holy Spirit.       THE WONDER OF HIS WAYS   To my surprise,  two days after coming home from Elk City,  a check came in the mail for $2200.  It was exactly what I needed to secure my place in the tour and the extra to use as an application fee for my passport.  Now, let me share with you the amazing way the Lord provided the money for my trip. If you desire to go to Israel, I will agree with you that He will make a way for you, too.   Early in the summer of 1996, Joshua and I were driving to the town of Madison, SD to see my sister, Brenda.  As I mentioned earlier, she had been involved with itinerant children’s ministry and was speaking at a church in Madison.  For over five years Brenda was part of a major children’s ministry in Brooklyn, New York under the leadership of Bill Wilson.  On our way north of Mitchell on Hwy 37, we encountered one of the worst hail storms I’d even seen in my life.  Storms in South Dakota can come up rather quickly and surprise you with loud claps of thunder, lightening, rain, and hail.  We pulled off the road as it wasn’t even possible to drive safely with large hail stones bouncing off the windshield.  The noise of their crashing onto the car was deafening and frightening.  Eventually the storm passed, and we headed east toward Madison on Hwy 34.  What I had not considered was that I would be driving into the same storm again, and it had not fully emptied out its cargo, so we received even more damage before we eventually drove out of the storm area and the clouds dissipated.  The car I owned at the time was a 1986 gray Buick Park Avenue.  I had bought it in 1992, and it already had some nicks, dings, and scratches.  The paint on the trunk of the car had been peeling because of a bad paint job, and the heat of summer had caused some scaling and made it very unsightly.  It seemed to me that despite the fierceness of the storm, the car did not have enough damage to report… it was an old car after all.    Later that summer, when talking to a friend, I noticed the pock marks of the hail damage on the front hood were more noticeable and that the paint was peeling around them too. My friend had gone to have her older car appraised for damages and had been quite surprised at the amount of the damage.  With that information and  since I'd paid for comprehension insurance for many years, I called an insurance adjuster to come and look at the car, sometime in August or early September.  They noted the damage on the front hood of the car, some dents in the window moldings and other dings and dents.  They did not allow for fixing the trunk which was the most unsightly due to the peeling paint, but they would replace the front hood.   I did not know for sure what the total amount of the check for damages would be until it arrived at my door in late October for $2200.  I had two choices.  Either put a new hood on an old car and leave the trunk ugly or take the money, go to Israel and eventually sell the car as is.  Guess which I chose??   In retrospect, I would ponder later that I had no way of knowing that my unfortunate date with a hail storm in June would pay for my ticket to Israel in December.  Mysterious are HIS workings in our lives.  So often we wonder, “What does this have to do with that?”  We don't see that the Lord is setting us up for a miracle and often using misfortune and inconvenience as the stepping stones to get us there.   My other hurdle to make the trip to Israel was that I needed someone I trusted to keep Joshua for 10 days.  One day as I was praying, an amazing answer came to me.  I had friends in Mitchell who had a son that was Joshua’s age, and they were classmates at school.  They had frequently invited Josh on outings as their son was the only child at home as well.  They were making plans at that time to move from Mitchell back to their hometown area in Fitzgerald, GA.  I called them with a proposal. What if I would help them get ready to move, follow them to Georgia, and have them keep Joshua for me while I was in Israel? Then I would drive back to Mitchell in January.  They had planned to move by early December as Charles had a job to begin, and I needed to fly out of Jacksonville, FL on December 10. I asked them to pray about it and get back to me in a few days, but it took only a few minutes. Soon, they called me back to say they’d be happy to keep Joshua while I was gone.  With that we hurried to pack and load their U-Haul truck to drive to Georgia, and I followed them in my car.  Upon arriving in GA with only a day or so to spare, they took me to Jacksonville, FL to meet Velma and four other ladies to fly to New York. There we met the tour group of 90 Hawaiians flying out of Honolulu. So there were 96 of us in 1996.  It was a trip I’ll never forget. I was totally out of my element, yet loved the strange sense of excitement in my spirit.      ISRAEL -1996   The details and finances of the trip had come together miraculously with one exception. My mother had called me very upset with my plans to go to Israel,  my decision to drive to Georgia, and to leave Joshua with the Williamson family. It was  not that she had anything against them personally, but she had fears for my safety.  What looked to her like needless travel and expense was certain to bring criticism from other family members.  It brought great sadness to me to be forced to leave without my mother’s blessing.  I had to shake off the fear of something bad happening, and the possible “I told you so” results.   In retrospect that trip to Israel was pivotal to where I am today. It positioned me to meet the right people, be in the right place, at the right time.  Despite several weeks of strained relationship with my mother and the dark shadows it cast over my trip, eventually, we talked and walked through it.  Part of what had to happen was my own breaking away from the fear of her disapproval and the withholding of her support.  What had to happen for her was that she had to face the fear of having a less than typical daughter who would need to say, “I must obey God and not men.”  Eventually the Lord would move me out of my home state to distance me from family affairs and opinions.  It is often only in that place of freedom that we can develop and mature fully into the stature of Christ.    Even Jesus was limited in his hometown from doing miracles. Not that there was any fault within Him, but they refused to see beyond the natural realm of family ties. I understand more and more why the Lord must take us out to minister to others as they can receive from someone outside their family or community.  And He must bring the others to come to our own families and hometowns.  It is human nature to discount someone you are naturally related to and downplay their message and calling when you have known them most of your life.   My first trip to Israel in 1996 was an amazing once in a lifetime journey. When you travel with 96 people, it’s a lesson in patience. It takes extra time for everything from getting motel rooms, to boarding busses and airplanes, checking in, and retrieving luggage.  Several things I loved about the Hawaiians. They loved to eat, they loved to laugh, and they loved to sing.  The group had great favor in Israel with the government due to some prior tour connections.  We were given a tour of what was called Solomon’s Stables under the eastern gate, and we were also allowed to actually sit in the section at the Knesset reserved for dignitaries. At that time, most tourists were only allowed to see the Parliament behind glass and gaze into the open auditorium. We were actually seated above the open chamber floor in the seats for ambassadors.  It was there I was first made aware of the great honor and calling to be HIS ambassador and the first scent and sensing of governmental favor and anointing was upon me.   I also knew I wanted to return to Israel and spend extended time, not just a 10 day tour. I wanted to stay in the land for several weeks and take Joshua with me.  That would be realized in later years when we made three extensive trips to Israel in 1998, 1999, and 2000. I was strangely drawn to the land and did not fully comprehend why until the journeys unfolded before us.     During one of the last nights of the 10 day tour in 1996, Velma had invited a lady named Irene Bredlow, whom she knew from earlier years, to come and speak to our tour group.  Irene was living in Jerusalem and was one of the founding ladies with Ruth Heflin who established Mt Zion Fellowship in Jerusalem. She came to our hotel and spoke to us in a large conference room.  I was absolutely amazed and delighted at her message and delivery, although I can’t tell you today what it was.  I was just enraptured with yet another lady minister with a gift of speaking and prophetic unction. Later, Velma invited Irene to come to her hotel room, and then invited me and several others for further dialog with Irene. That night Irene prayed and prophesied over all of us.  I can’t remember that either except that I wanted to be someone like Velma and Irene. In days past, I had often cried out to the Lord, “Isn’t there someone who knows more than I do? Isn’t there someone who can teach me?” The Lord showed me two ladies that could.   Before leaving Velma’s room that night, Irene gifted her with a beautiful Hanukah menorah and also, a book called “Glory” by Ruth Ward Heflin.  I was immediately drawn to that book.  I noted the author and how to order one when I got back to the states.  The last minute connection was, by far, the most important of them all.  That one book would eventually lead me to meet Ruth Ward Heflin and direct my course to the family ministry located at the campground in Ashland, VA.   After our return trip from Israel, we spent our last night of the tour  in New York City. Having already spent 10 busy days traveling and not sleeping very well, many of us were on the verge of illness. We had spent our last full day in Israel shopping and packing before arriving at the airport to leave about 1:00 am.  Then we endured a 12 hour flight in very uncomfortable seats trying to sleep. When we landed in NYC,  we had to turn the clock back seven hours and prepare to go through customs just as they opened that morning.  After we retrieved our luggage,  we got on our bus and toured the Statue of Liberty and China Town.  By then, we had only a few hours to get checked into a hotel for one night, shower, and be ready for the bus trip to Times Square Church. It was the one thing I was still determined I wanted to do. I remembered it being part of the tour package that Velma had told us about when I sprang to my feet so suddenly in Oklahoma.   That night, a very weary remnant boarded the bus to Times Square.  Oddly enough the man speaking that night was not David Wilkerson, but a man who was on his way to oversee a ministry at Mt Carmel in Israel, a place we had just toured.  As desperately as I tried that evening, I could hardly keep my eyes open.  I was so exhausted from all the touring and travel of ten plus days.  I noticed my whole row was falling asleep as well and to the average onlooker we must have been a sight.  They could not have known how exhausted we were.  By the end of the meeting, I had fought sleep for one purpose, and that was to touch the altar in that place.  I can’t tell you anything that was said, and I barely remember being there, but I know I was.  And I know I had pushed through the crowd just to touch the altar where many a sin sick soul had found Jesus.  While standing in that holy place, a hand touched my shoulder and someone told me that it was time to leave.  That night’s sleep was again very short as we had  to leave for the airport early around 4:00 am.  It was later that day when I arrived back in Jacksonville, FL to be met by my friend, Sandra, and our boys, James and Josh.  I was scarcely coherent and very sick. My ears did not unplug for hours, and I was ill with respiratory problems for several days.  The tour really was not planned very well in adding an extra day in New York City at the end of a such a long trip.  Nearly all the weary Hawaiians still had hours and hours of flight time and most of them were very sick when they finally arrived  home.    Despite the sickness, I was happy.  I had experienced something I would never see or experience again in the same manner, and the weather was warm and sunny in Georgia in January.  I made plans to drive to Florida to spend a few more days with Velma and the two elderly sisters who hosted her. There Joshua and I spent the Christmas of 1996. I pondered the changes in my life that seemed to be pulling me out of everything I once knew, and into an irresistible realm of walking and living in the Spirit where every day becomes an adventure.   While in Israel,  Velma had been given the book, “Glory” written by Ruth Heflin.  Staying with her, I was able once again to peruse its pages and this time, write down the name of the ministry where I could order one of my own:  Calvary Pentecostal Campground, 11352 Heflin Lane,  Ashland, VA 23008.  As I looked at the last page in the book advertising their 10 weeks of 1997 summer camp meetings, a strange thought came to me, “I’d like to go there. I’d like to go to a place like that for a couple of weeks.”  I was being drawn into the prophetic, and I didn’t even know it.       DRIVING  HOME   The trip to Georgia, Israel, Florida, and back to South Dakota took about 6 weeks.  It was a glorious time to travel and enjoy the warm weather before heading back into winter.  On the way we stopped in Texas to see an old friend and while there, my mother called to warn me of a predicted blizzard on its way to SD.  For some reason I suddenly felt pressured to get home. I suppose it was because of the strained relationship with my mother, and  I was trying to mend the fences by heeding her advice.  I think it was the first time we had even talked since I’d left for Georgia and traveled to Israel. I had grieved much over the gulf between us as I disliked being in conflict with her or others.   My hasty decision to leave and head home to beat the storm was not a wise one.  Instead it positioned us to get into the storm as it was advancing into Nebraska and we were driving north on Hwy 81 towards Yankton.   By the time we reached Norfolk, the wind was getting ferocious,  the snowfall thick, and coming down heavily.  The drive became a nightmare of deepening snow, blowing winds, passing trucks, and poor visibility.  I tucked in behind a large semi truck. All I could do was pray and hope we could at least get to Yankton and stay with some friends. I had hoped to get to Menno, SD where my mother lived, but I didn’t want to risk closed roads. I’m so glad we didn’t try to drive it as later reports showed the road had been blocked and closed. We eventually pulled up tense and frightened to our friends’ home in Yankton unannounced.  They looked rather surprised to see us as I explained what had happened. Oddly enough, they had been preparing to leave for a vacation in Florida the very next day, and we had just come from there.  So we weathered out an extremely severe blizzard that left many stranded in vicious winds and heavy snow.  Had we tried to drive even 35 miles farther to Menno, we would have been stuck on the roads in bitter cold and snow.   Our friends warmly welcomed us into their home, and we spent about three days with them before the skies and roads were clear enough to drive back to Mitchell.   I stopped briefly in Menno to see my mother. When we arrived in Yankton,  I had called to let her know we were safe.  She was surprised we had made it that far.  The relationship was still very strained, and it would be several weeks and another confrontation before we would feel comfortable with each other.  I knew I had done what the Lord had called me to.  I still don’t like it when it must conflict with family preferences, but I have learned to press through it and into the full calling of His purposes.   On the way back to Mitchell the very last day of the six week trip, in subzero temperatures, we were about 12 miles from our home, when I heard and felt the thump, thump, thump of a flat tire.   My heart sank and the panic of what to do suddenly rose up in me.  To the Glory of His Grace, I happened to be within a short distance of a farm home.  I pulled into the yard and knocked on the door, asking to use the telephone.  At that time cell phones were not as common, and I didn’t have one.  The owners allowed me to call AAA, and we waited there until a truck was dispatched to fix the tire.  It had to be removed and taken to a local tire shop. The spare was buried under a sea of luggage in the trunk of the car, and it was easier to take the flat to town.   When he returned and changed the tire, we started up the car and finally, after a six week adventure, we arrived safely back in that little apartment we called home in Mitchell, SD.  What an ending!  What a beginning!!       THE ‘GLORY’ BOOK   Sometime in February as things were settling back into a routine, I happened to pick up the journal I'd recorded while in Israel. There on the pages was the phone number and the address of the camp in Virginia where I could order the Glory book.  I decided to go ahead and call.  I just so happened to get a receptionist named Marilyn.  She had a lovely Boston accent, and I shared with her how I had seen a Glory book in Israel and wanted to order my own.  She took my order and then commented that she had a friend, named Barbara, at the camp who sometimes came to the midwest to minister.  Marilyn said Barbara and her husband had pastored “out there, somewhere” and had just moved back to the camp. Out of courtesy, I took down Barbara’s name and phone number and then slipped it into a pile of papers. It seemed very unlikely to me that someone from Virginia would be traveling to Mitchell.  Soon after, the "Glory" book arrived, and I began to read it.  About two weeks later, I got a phone call from Barbara at the camp.  She was indeed preparing to take a ministry trip to the midwest and offered to come to Mitchell if I was interested. Most certainly,  I was. I longed to meet people who had prophetic gifting, and I was strangely drawn to this place known as “The Camp”.   I was able to arrange for Barbara to speak at  Sunday morning meeting in a local church.  I also arranged another meeting with a group near Freeman, SD as they seemed to be very interested in the new move of God.  Following the morning message, Barbara began to prophesy to me.  What I mainly remember is that she said the Lord was calling me to be a conduit of His glory, and I would connect many people. It  has certainly proven to be true. One evening, we drove about 55 miles to Freeman on icy roads. I was tempted to turn back, but we wanted to be able to minister to the small group of  people gathered there. We safely prevailed over the icy roads, and Barbara spoke and prophesied over most of them.  Once again I  observed a woman in ministry, and the call the Lord  had put in my heart  ten years earlier was being stirred deeply within me.   Before Barbara left the area, she told me that Ruth Heflin had just come back from nearly 40 years of travel overseas to 150 nations and was their new camp director.  Her brother, Wallace Heflin Jr, had died suddenly and very unexpectedly in December leaving the camp in mourning and needing strong new leadership.  Ruth had felt the Lord telling her it was time for revival in America and that she needed to come back to her home in Ashland, VA.  She had been 'born in the glory' when her parents had established the campground ministry many years earlier.  Ruth had felt led of the Lord to begin to hold meetings in the United States. She was scheduled to speak at a large conference in Fargo, North Dakota in April.  Barbara was headed to that area of North Dakota as she and her husband, Kerry, had indeed pastored “out there, somewhere” in Butte, ND south of Minot.  She promised to send a brochure of the conference, and I’m  very grateful she kept her word.  Both Marilyn and Barbara were major links in a chain of events that would send me on an amazing adventure.    Looking back I realize how important it is just to keep your word and do what you say you’ll do. Had Barbara not been faithful to send the conference brochure, I may not have been able to register or attend.  Later, through the years, Barbara became a good friend. Over the past ten years, we have ministered together many times and spent hours in travel and conversation.  We shared our life stories and marveled at the wonderful way the Lord brought us together for His purposes.       When the brochure arrived in the mail after Barbara’s first visit, I registered and made plans to drive to Fargo from my home in Mitchell.  The week before the conference, my daughter, Anne, had arrived back from her internship in Hawaii with my sister, Brenda.  I invited her to go with me to Fargo and explained that I wanted to go.  Somehow, I just had to meet this lady named Ruth Heflin, although I couldn’t understand why.        THE JAMES RIVER   Now let me back up and bring in another story.  During the spring of 1997, severe flooding was occurring in the Dakotas due to the winter's heavy snow pack and the melting.  The Red River of North Dakota is one of few that flows north and it had been nearing flood stage for weeks. It flows through Fargo and Grand Forks north into Canada.  In South Dakota, the James River was causing great concern.  It is normally a slow moving, winding river that meanders about 700 miles from the headwaters north of Jamestown, ND to the mouth of the James River which empties out into the Missouri River near Yankton, SD.  As a crow flies, the distance is about 360 miles, but the nature of the James River is to meander thru the places of least resistance and take its leisurely time.    During the March and April thaws, the James River was doing the unthinkable and raging waters were flowing downstream.  One area of great concern was near Huron, SD.  A small Mennonite school established many years earlier sat along the banks of the usually lazy river and provided a campus  for the educational facilities and a home for the school principal.   James Valley Christian School was facing the immediate danger of being flooded, and the National Guard, selected state prisoners on release, and area wide volunteers were working feverishly to save the historic and beloved school. Their heroic efforts to sandbag were the subject of national news reports and daily headlines as they struggled to avert any flooding.   It was of particular interest to me as the school’s principal and his family were personal friends of mine.   Kevin and Virginia Hofer had been on the staff of Freeman Academy in Freeman, SD when I had worked there several years earlier.  Kevin taught history and coached girls’ basketball, and Virginia taught Spanish. We had become friends and prayer partners and eventually, all of us ended up leaving the Freeman area at the same time.  Kevin had accepted a position as a coach for Mitchell Christian School and my daughter, Anne, had become an excellent athlete under his tutorage. I was very grateful for Kevin and Virginia who stepped into my daughter’s life shortly after her father had left.  He was her basketball coach, and she played very well in her high school years, earning her several awards. When Kevin  decided to move to Mitchell, we also considered a move.  Anne had decided to leave Freeman her senior year to play basketball for the fledging varsity high school team that Kevin was establishing in Mitchell.  Later, Kevin and Virginia left Mitchell so he could  become the school principal at James Valley Christian School near Huron. That was why I was so interested and concerned that the school not be flooded out or my close friends suffer damage to their home and belongings.    The conference in Fargo with Ruth Heflin speaking was to begin on April 8, 1997.  The day before on April 7, the unthinkable happened. On that memorable Sunday afternoon, countless volunteer hours of work had resulted in successfully sandbagging against the raging James River, but then the waters crested. It appeared all the efforts had been successful, except for one major unplanned thing. The wind began to blow and blow hard.  As it did, it caused the waters to lap against the sandbags and to the horror of those watching, the walls came tumbling down.  The river began to rage against the school and the entire property was flooded and lost, as was the home and belongings of my friends, the Hofers.  As a precaution, they had moved most of their possessions to the second floor of the house, but even that had flooded, and all was lost. The school never did rebuild on that property, and through donations, they eventually built a beautiful new school complex within the city limits of Huron.  Sometimes the Lord uses the unthinkable to bring us out of hiding and into public view.   I had trouble sleeping the night before I was to leave for the conference. I did not know about James Valley Christian School being flooded until I picked up my early morning newspaper.  I was greatly saddened at the tremendous loss and full of questions to the Lord, ‘WHY?’  It seemed hours and hours of labor were for naught and feeling the personal loss of my friends added to my grief.  As I meditated, I suddenly felt many words coming to me in a prophetic flow, which was all rather new for me.   I quickly found a pencil and notebook as the Lord downloaded a powerful prophetic word that clearly showed HE had allowed the school to be flooded and had a mighty purpose in it.   As I wrote down the words, I knew He was speaking of something greater to come in a flood of His Holy Spirit that would not be sandbagged and stopped by men.  Just because men could sandbag against a river did not stop the Wind of the Holy Spirit from blowing across the land and undoing the efforts of man. Later I was able to share that word with Kevin and some local pastors who had been confused and distraught over the loss. The James River word brought hope and encouragement to those who heard it.       AN URGENT PROMPTING   I hurried to get ready that morning with a compelling urgency that I needed to leave by 10:00 am.  As I prepared to  drive to Fargo,  the joy and expectation for the meetings helped  soothe the ache in my heart over the morning news of the flood.  By 10:00 am, my daughter, Anne, Joshua, and I were out the door and on our way to drive 330 miles to Fargo.  It never occurred to me there could be problems on the Fargo end.  I just knew I was to go and that I needed to leave by 10:00 am.  What I didn’t know was that at the very same time, 10:00 am in Fargo, the conference was being called off because of the imminent flooding of the Red River.  They would try to call me at 10:15 am to tell me NOT to come. But it was too late, as I was already on my way.  Later, I would realize I was not meant to get that phone call for God had a plan.  I’m humbled to realize that had I not listened to the urging of the Holy Spirit, 15 minutes could have aborted my destiny.  How very important it is that we listen and obey the Holy Spirit without thinking we have to know all the reasons why.  Many times I have heard the Lord say, “Just go and do, and I’ll show you in the going and doing.”   With intentions of arriving at the hotel around 4:00 p.m., we allowed for  a comfortable drive and made several stops along the way.  After finding the hotel, I went to register and found out the entire conference had been cancelled.  I was shocked.  It was one of those moments when you’re sure you have heard from God, and the evidence is saying otherwise.  The hotel gave me the phone number of the church. They apologized and explained the seriousness of the flooding.  The night before, the governor of the state of North Dakota had announced that all events must be cancelled and people evacuated from the city.  Ruth Heflin had spoken at a church a few days prior in Mandan, ND and she was already in Fargo for the conference when the notice came.  She said later that it was the first time in her life a conference had ever been cancelled.  The church office then explained that at the last minute,  Ruth had been asked to come to a small Assembly of God church in Milaca, MN.  They gave me the pastor’s name to contact and get the time and directions.  The Fargo church repeatedly apologized for having to cancel. They said, “You were one of the first people we tried to call when the decision was made, as we knew you were coming from a distance.”  That phone call had come within 15 minutes after I’d been compelled to leave.  It just didn’t make sense…. Yet.       A DIVINE APPOINTMENT   When I called the pastor of the church in Milaca, MN, he offered to find us a hotel room and gave me the directions to the church, another 200 miles away.  My daughter thought we should turn around and go home, but I had just had to go on.  We had to leave Fargo, anyway, and I sure didn’t want to go home; so what was 200 more miles?    When I got off the phone with the pastor from Milaca, my daughter was talking to another very bewildered couple with their family.  They had just driven in even further from Pierre, SD. They were part of their church’s worship team and had read Ruth’s book on glory and worship.  Anne explained that this couple were (pardon the pun) in the same boat.  However, they had not found out that Ruth was being flown to Minneapolis and would be taken to Milaca for meetings there.  They were prepared to just turn around and go home. So, it was my joy to tell them what I had just learned.  They quickly called their church in Pierre to get the needed approval to go on to Milaca, and then they followed us to the church.  Later on we became close friends, remembering how we met in the lobby of the hotel in Fargo, bewildered by the sudden turn of events.  As I meditated about it later,  I marveled at the Lord’s hand to bring them about 400 miles from Pierre, and myself, about 330 miles from Mitchell and yet, with all of the children and stops between us, we somehow arrived in the same hotel lobby in a five minute time frame that would change both our lives.  Later, I would think about it in wonderment that the Lord gets us to the right place at the right time to meet the right people. Fifteen minutes could have aborted or delayed my destiny, and five minutes would have changed theirs as well.  But, God is so faithful to direct our steps even when they seem futile and faltering.   After becoming friends, Joshua and I traveled often to their home when I ministered in Pierre, SD.  Eventually, that led to my being in Pierre in 2003. While in the home of other special friends, Merlin and DeAnn Hilmoe, we burned a CD from several songs I'd saved to my keyboard disk drive. The songs would come to me as I’d play spontaneously by the Spirit, and  I would replay them as background music during the ministry times in my meetings.  One night before a home meeting, I set up my keyboard and  put a track on to test the sound.  Merlin commented on how much he liked it, and within an hour,  we 'spur of the moment' recorded and burned a CD on his new system right there in the front room. That simple recording became 10, then 25, 50, 100.  Then I ordered 250, 500, 750, and more. Later, I was able to get them digitally recorded and today, the Mysteries of the Deep CD has been distributed to at least 25 countries.  Amazingly, it came forth unedited and unpretentious out of a small home meeting in Pierre, SD.  Don’t you love the simplicity of doing it God’s way?   After the hurry and scurry of arriving in Milaca, MN the night of April 8, 1997, I found out that the church had suddenly and surprisingly found themselves hosting an international speaker and author.  They had been reading the Glory book as part of their efforts to come into deeper realms of prophetic worship and His presence.  The music minister and associate pastor, John, upon reading the book, had entered Pastor Bruce’s office one day several weeks earlier and suddenly announced, “Ruth Heflin is going to come here someday”.  The thought was initially ridiculous as they knew she lived in Jerusalem and traveled internationally.  However, the morning of April 8, 1997 brought an unexpected change of plans and opportunity beyond their wildest dreams. Sometimes we really do get what we say and pray.   Debbie T, one of the church members, had planned to go to Fargo, but received  the phone call telling her the conference was cancelled. Suddenly she felt compelled to call the hotel and ask Ruth Heflin if she would consider coming to their little church in Minnesota.  At that point, Ruth had received no other direction or phone calls, and she felt the Lord say she was to go to Milaca.  She would have to leave Fargo that day anyway, because of the flooding.  Debbie made arrangements for her to fly into Minneapolis and met her at the airport with a sign as they had never seen each other before.  By the time the day’s hectic activities were over, she was standing in a pulpit in a small Assembly of God church in Milaca, MN.  It was later in the evening, after the worship session that she rose to speak.  When she did, she spoke about the flood of revival coming to the region and quoted nearly all the words that had been given to me that very same morning before I’d left Mitchell to drive to Fargo and then to Milaca.  By the time I found the hotel, changed my clothes, and drove to the church, she had just gotten up to speak; and I had driven over 500 miles to hear her.  I would not fully realize until later that my destiny was tied to hers, and I was being compelled of the Holy Spirit to meet her.  By the end of three incredible days, she would speak a powerful prophetic word to me about my call to fulltime ministry that would so establish my calling and identity. I would never doubt it again.   It was surely an amazing thing to find myself in a hotel room in Milaca, MN, 500 miles away from home, with not a clue I’d end up there that night.  To my delight, I found that my room was adjacent to Ruth's and shared with Connie Wilson, her secretary.  Along with many others, I was able  to spend valuable quality and concentrated time hearing her heart as she told the wonderful stories of what the Lord had done. Just being around her caused all the prophetic juices to flow, and I had several visions and words that came to me in those few days.   Sometimes, the Lord really is speaking to us, and we do not perceive it until the reality is before us.  The Milaca church had such a limited time to get the word out to the surrounding area of the sudden change of plans in Fargo and that they were hosting an amazing international guest.  To those of us who came, it was a kairos opportune time to listen to words that challenged and changed us.  We sat at lunch one day in wonderment.  “How did this happen?”  They surely were days of wonder and Ruth Heflin later spoke about it and wrote of that incredible and unique experience in her book, “Revival Glory”.       THE VOICE WITHIN THE VOICE   The last night of the meetings was the night Ruth began to pray over the people.  Many lined up for prayer and were quickly slain in the Spirit as she made her way up and down the aisles of the church.  Catchers helped lay the people down as they fell under the power of the Holy Spirit when she laid her hands upon them.  After she prayed for the congregation, she sat down on a chair on the platform and began to prophesy personal words to the hungry people.  I sat near the front of the church watching and waiting.  I was longing to hear from God,  and truly amazed and dazed by what I was seeing and hearing. Before long, I noticed her finger motioning in my direction and beckoning me to come.  I stepped forward to sit before her as she prayed for me.  Some of the words had to do with major changes that were coming and the ease in which they would come.  She said that the Lord was making a way that would be easy.  Then her voice changed and thundered forth as the Lord spoke through her,  “Yea, for surely I have called thee to preach, and you will preach”.  The rest of the words were to pale in the significance of those words. I never forgot them and even today, in the midst of great changes, transitions, wanderings and wonderings, my spirit quakes at the authority and finality of the 'Voice within the voice'.    My doubts and concerns about what I considered might be a call from the Lord to ministry were vanquished that night by the authority and power of an utterance that came from someone who could not have known of the 10 years of hidden desire.  With the words,  “Surely, I have called you to preach, and you will preach!” I could not longer hide behind the timidity of just doing a little “speaking”. Somehow women speakers were okay, but women preachers were taboo.  I left for home the next day with that powerful prophetic word ringing in my spirit and returned to Mitchell, SD.  I would never be the same.  I know from experience the power of the spoken prophetic word to endorse and bring life and clarity to our wondering hearts and minds.     MAJOR CHANGES   I had already been reading the book called “Glory” and had longingly looked at the back of the book, wondering how and if I could drive to Ashland, Virginia to spend two weeks that next summer.  Within a few days of arriving back home,  the Lord spoke to my heart one morning, “I want you to put your things in storage and go to Virginia for the entire summer.”  I could scarcely believe it. Was that really the Lord?  I really did want to go and the thought of going for an entire summer, 10 weeks of nightly meetings sounded heavenly to me.  With that thought in my heart,  I began to pray into the possibilities. I didn't mention it to anyone for nearly a month.  It would require my giving up my home, a subsidized, but economic and comfortable small 3 bedroom apartment and I would need to find a storage unit and sell some of my belongings.  It would be a radical change for me.  Another greatly anointed woman of God calls it,  “Leaving all you know for all you don’t know”.   I have often found in the dealings of the Lord that when He is speaking major changes for us, He persistently tugs at our hearts and bypasses our brains.  The longing becomes so great we are willing to risk the unknown.  For me, what appeared to be a safe and predictable place had become a gilded cage, but it was still a cage.  At last, I decided to let some family members know of my plans.  One of those I needed to talk to would be my mother.  One night, my sister, Brenda, was to speak to a group meeting in Freeman, SD and my youngest brother, Gary, was also going to be there.  My mom was coming, and we were planning to go to her house before I left to drive back to Mitchell that evening.  All day my heart had been in my throat as this seemed to be the night to ‘do it’; that is, let the cat out of the bag and let my intentions and desires be made known.   My mother and I had finally come to some resolution about my previous trip to Israel, and we were just getting comfortable with each other again.  Because Mom had watched my sister minister that night and since she is Spirit-filled as well, I hoped to present the idea as something to ask them to pray with me about. With hesitation, but unusually calm assurance, I presented my thoughts about going to Virginia for the summer and putting my things in storage. To my amazement, it went very well. The Lord had certainly prepared the way.  All of them, my mother, my sister, Brenda, and my brother, Gary, felt it was the Lord. Suddenly, I had the firm conviction and consolation, I was truly to go.  Later my mother offered to let me store some of my belongings at her house in an attic room, and also that she would keep my old piano for me.  It seemed to be falling into place.  I didn’t have much money, but I knew that the Lord had miraculously provided for my trip to Israel, and He would surely have to provide for a way to get to Virginia.  As I was praying and letting my plans be made known to some others in the Mitchell area, my mother called to tell me she wanted to give me a generous check to facilitate my moving out of Mitchell and going to Virginia.  The weeks and months of strained relationship were swallowed up in the joy of her loving and generous support. She had made peace with letting me go, and I had peace in the going.       GOODBYE OLD, HELLO NEW!   After saying all the goodbyes and finally acknowledging and owning the call of God on my life that was sending me to Ashland, Virginia for the summer, Joshua and I loaded up that hail struck, dinged up ‘92 Buick Park Avenue and headed to the east coast.  I will never forget the joy and anticipation of adventure tinged with the fear of what I’d find.  I had an idea that the camp was associated with old time Pentecostals, but not even that prepared me for the ‘other-worldly’ experiences of being on the campground. I had felt the Lord say to me I was to be there for opening night and closing night.  That would have been around June 21 until August 31. I did not know at the time that the camp policy was to not allow outsiders to come in for the whole summer, so when I arrived, I simply announced my desire to stay.  Initially, they did not tell me otherwise, and Joshua and I were given a room, down camp in a dormitory style building called Pisgah.  We stayed the entire summer without issue, and I worked part of the time in the camp bookstore, a great place to work and air-conditioned as well.   In Pisgah, we had a small room with twin beds and a small bathroom.  The halls were noisy and the walls thin, but there, by the Grace of God, we spent the entire summer of 1997. The building did not have air-conditioning and as summer went by, we had only a fan to cool us at night.  There were days of unbearable sultry, humid Virginia heat when we escaped to a store or the mall between meetings.  That summer the camp ran three meetings a day: 10:00 a.m., 2:00 p.m. and 8:00 p.m.  Three meals were served daily free of charge as was the desire of the founding family, Wallace, Sr and Edith Heflin, parents of Ruth Heflin. Offerings were received at every meeting to cover the expenses of the campground.  Today, the camp still follows this practice.  All can come without charge and offerings are taken each meeting, sometimes with long drawn out appeals and flair. What followed that summer was 10 ½ weeks of Glory meetings. Music I had never heard before, prophetic words in abundance, and visions declared openly during the meetings.  Each week a different speaker would come and day time meetings were also uniquely different with a variety of speakers and ministry.  I was very much aware I was not really one of them.  I have always had short hair, and because it is fine and somewhat thin, I could not grow it out very long.  The women on staff at the camp at that time were required to put their hair up in buns and to keep it long.  All the ladies attending the camp were required to wear dresses or skirts.  I did not find it hard to wear dresses, but I knew I’d probably never grow enough hair to put it up.  Because the camp was started with old time Pentecostal beliefs and holiness traditions, I respectfully honored their code of dress and conduct, but often wondered at great inconsistencies in the attitudes of some of the women.  With so many women there it made for some competitiveness, and I was appalled at times by their attitudes and conversations.   I learned quickly holiness is not a matter of dress and hair, but a matter of the heart.  Ruth Heflin, herself, had never known anything but the old ways, however, she seemed tolerant and considerate of those who did not choose to conform.  When she came to the camp, people from all over America, who had read her book, "Glory", wanted to come and visit. This brought in a whole new flow of people who were not willing to conform readily to old traditional ideas of holiness.  Another practice I learned was to call the women, Sister so and so, and the men, Brother so and so, and I of course, became Sis Carla. It was a title of family endearment and honor. To this day, when I go to the camp, I still use that title as one would say Mr or Mrs, Rev, or Dr, etc. So in further writing this account, I will use it as it’s just who they are to me. And by the way, I am still Sis Carla when I’m there.   One of the greatest things about the camp that summer was the inflow of international guests and pastors from around the world. It was estimated that over 35 nations were represented over the summer and often as many as 20 or more could be in a service together. They wore their native costumes and the large open air tabernacle was lined with the flags of the nations.  The richness of expression in worship when the nations gather together in such a beautiful tapestry of color and sound is something I’ll never forget. Joshua, then 11 years old, met many Godly men from around the world, and often they would prophecy to him of the call of God on his life.   Without going into more details and I surely could, I will fast forward to the end of the camp.  By faith, I had stepped out into the unfamiliar world of Calvary Pentecostal Campground in Ashland, Virginia. The prophetic words that Sis Ruth had spoken to me that night of April 10, 1997 still rang in my ears,  “Surely, I have called you to preach, and you will preach.”  During the summer, a desire grew in my heart to be licensed and ordained by Sis Ruth by the end of the camp meetings.  I did not know at the time they had an established protocol for licensing and ordination, but I knew I was there by Divine appointment, and she had spoken it.  One night after a meeting, I slid in beside her on her bench on the platform. I timidly asked her if there was a possibility of my ordination, and if so, it would surely be my heart's desire. She said she would give the matter consideration, and I knew I could do nothing but wait.  By faith I had come, and this would come by His Favor.  I had already been given great favor at the camp since they had let me stay there the whole summer, and I had developed friendships with many of the staff members.  I had volunteered early in the summer to help with the music.  I had a gift for playing the piano spontaneously and would often play at the end of the meetings during the ministry times when speakers would pray, prophesy, and lay their hands upon the people.  The ladies who had led worship, or played the piano and organ, would then be given a break to be with their families or to rest.  Many of them were leading worship two and three times daily for the scheduled services.     Personally, I thought this was the best job of all.  I was so blessed to be able to linger in the Presence of the Glory of the Lord and help facilitate the atmosphere conducive to prayer and ministry.  To this day, many comment on my ability to lead people into the Presence of the Lord and facilitate a lingering Presence.  Surely it must have been born and enhanced by those meetings when I would sit at the piano to play for hours while I watched people being prayed for.   During the evening worship, I would  play piano and try to hear myself over the extremely loud speakers blaring at my side. Sometimes, I’d have to put my ear down to the piano keys to hear what I was playing. I’d often have the horrible thought that I could play an entire song in the wrong key and never know it as the speakers were so loud.  The ladies who played the keyboard and organ located across the platform had devised a way to signal key changes, but even so, it was a challenge to flow with them.  Sometimes, Joshua would stand by my side with his violin. They would give him a special microphone, and he would play along.  He had started lessons at five years old and at 11, was already an accomplished violinist playing Bach and Vivaldi.  He learned to play by a method called Suzuki that is known for ear training and so, he followed well.  Occasionally we did some special songs together.  To this day, many at the camp remember him as the young man who played his violin and ask about him when I visit the campground.   The impartations and friendships made at the camp that summer surely affected not only my life, but his.  Many times Godly Christian pastors and missionaries laid hands upon him and spoke words of destiny and purpose.  One unusual lady, named Sis Lofton, prophesied and insisted that Joshua would preach his first sermon by the time he was 12 years old.  She happened to run the local Christian radio station that operated near the camp and invited him to preach his first sermon over the air.  At first, I was amused and then very nervous for him.  He was asked to come to the station to do a live 30 minute sermon, in addition to playing his violin over the air.  I was pretty amazed the whole thing was happening anyway.    My daughter, Anne, who was Josh’s proud big sister, happened to be visiting the camp the week of the broadcast.  We were by far more nervous then he was and carried our tape deck to record and catch the moment.  At the ‘You’re on the air’ cue, Joshua first played his violin.  Then he had written out a few notes and his scriptural reference to his favorite Bible character, David. He then spoke with amazing confidence for the remainder of his time as Anne and I watched with bated breath.  We were so happy at how well it went and thrilled to get the recording, except that, the pause button had been pushed down, and we didn’t get any of it.  I guess some things are only recorded in heaven.  I forget the potential of the audience in radio land, but did have a few camp people tell me they had heard him. I had not fully realized the impact the summer would have on him as well.  He still has many wonderful memories of that summer and some life long friendships.   In retrospect, we were given a golden opportunity to partake of a 10 ½  week supernatural experience that would never again be repeated and would dramatically change our lives and knit us to a network of international friends.  I continue to learn that the Lord pulls us into the new as He sees deeply into our hearts, the true desires and callings He put there, and only He can facilitate and nurture. That summer we also received several prophetic words that we would be going to Israel together.  It was the very thing I had yearned for upon returning from Israel in December 1996.  The desire to go to Israel was especially deep in the heart of Joshua. I had not realized it, but he had a call and destiny there as well. How essential it is to hear the Lord’s voice to go and do as we do not fully comprehend the eternal and far reaching effects on our children.       RESTORING AN INHERITANCE   One of the things that Sis Ruth taught us was that to believe God to go to the nations, you should begin to pray and prophesy to the nation. She suggested people get a flag of the country where they wanted to go and pray with it and also maps of the states or countries.  So it was that when Joshua heard about it, he asked for an Israeli flag.  We bought one at the camp bookstore, and he began to wrap himself in it at night and sleep with it like you would a blanket. He really wanted to go to Israel and his childlike faith so touched my heart.    Sometime in July, Sis Ruth was asked to speak at an Endtime Handmaidens and Servants conference in Washington, DC sponsored by Sis Gwen Shaw.  I had never been to DC at that point and was asked if I’d like to go with a few people who wanted to drive up and be supportive of Sis Ruth while she was there. It was a massive hall with well over 1500 or more people there. Before Sis Ruth spoke, a testimony was given by a lady whose granddaughter had been healed after she had blown the shofar in the family home and the little girl's bedroom.  As the lady finished her testimony, she admonished the crowd,  “Blow those shofars!”  For those who don’t know, the shofar is the Hebrew word for the ram or antelope horn used to summon an assembly or sound an alarm.       With that exhortation, some in the crowd began to spontaneously blow their shofars. As others joined in, along with the shouts of the people, they created a roaring sound of worship and praise that filled the hotel conference hall.  It was a sound I will never forget.  When I got back to the campground and by the compelling of the Lord, I headed to the bookstore to purchase a shofar for Joshua. Surely a young man named Joshua should have a horn.  Around that time we met and befriended a young man about 30 years old  named Joshua Cohen who was a Messianic Jew from Ottawa, Canada. He had already taken a special interest in my eager son and taught him how to blow the shofar accurately.  It was a method that he continued to use and everywhere we went,  he could blew a shofar with a strong and powerfully loud sound.   People often commented on the anointing on Joshua to blow the shofar and blow it well. His first instructions came from that Jewish young man who taught him accurately.   That summer held many surprises.  I had always been drawn to anything or anyone Jewish.  I had never known or suspected it might be in my bloodline as all I’d ever heard was that we were German.  One day after going to the Endtime Handmaiden Conference in DC, I had a very unusual and profound encounter.  When I went into the lunchroom, I would sometimes look for people sitting alone and offer to join them.  Already the Lord was putting in me the ability and desire to meet people and make small talk.  Earlier in my life, I had found it very difficult to talk to strangers and during that summer, I was continually required to do so, as I didn’t know anyone at the camp. Later in my travels, I would find myself constantly among strangers. Once we were  introduced, we could become instant friends. Friendships born of the Spirit come so easily. Others take time and come with discipline and patience. Eventually, I became very comfortable in a room full of strangers and enjoyed getting to know people, one at a time.   One day I noticed a lady sitting by herself and just took my dinner tray over and sat across from her.  I don’t remember too much about her at present, but that she traveled in ministry and as a missionary, and had come up from Florida.  In fact, later I took her picture as I wondered if she was an angel. We sat and talked for a few minutes as we ate our lunch.  All of a sudden, she began to cry and weep, great tears streaming down her face and her fork in mid air.   “Did I say something wrong?” I wondered in bewilderment.   I watched her as her weeping eventually subsided and she turned her tear-stained face to me and said emphatically to me, “You have a Jewish bloodline.”    “What did you say?”  She repeated it again, “You have a Jewish bloodline.”  I could scarcely believe my ears. Had I understood her correctly?  I asked her how she could know something like that.  She went on to explain that in the past when she has been talking with someone who has a Jewish bloodline, she was overcome by the Spirit of travail for them, and the Lord had her reveal and confirm their heritage.  Well, you could have blown me away. I had never even considered it.  However, a very strange thing had happened the prior week.   Joshua had spent some time with Joshua Cohen, the Messianic Jewish man, and came into our room at Pisgah. He plopped on the edge of his bed, looked at me intently, and suddenly announced,  “I wish I was Jewish.”  I had thought it was wonderful that he would think and desire such, but I don’t remember that I even knew how to respond.  It was only within a few days, that the lady at the table was weeping in travail as she dramatically announced to me,  “You have a Jewish bloodline”.  At that point, all I remember thinking was how wonderful it would be to tell my son it was true, his wish had come true.  I knew it had to be an authentic word of the Lord as I had never considered the possibility or even been a “wanna be”.   And how often do you sit unsuspecting across the table in a lunchroom and  receive an announcement like that?   Later the bloodline was confirmed easily by looking at family names and the history.   Several families in the southeast corner of SD have obvious Jewish names, including my mother’s family.  I had never stopped to think there might be a reason for that.  Certainly Germans wouldn’t call themselves by Hertz, Stern, and Mettler. Even first names like Ephraim, Gideon, Rueben, Andrew, Jacob were in our family. I learned that my ancestors had converted to Christianity in Germany, gone to Russia under their German nationality, and left the Ukraine area in the 1870’s after refusing to join the Russian army.  Several families came on a ship together to enter the new promised land of America.  There they journeyed to the southeast corner of South Dakota to homestead the land. On a later Israel trip, I learned that another family line had stayed in Germany and in 1999, I visited the Holocaust Memorial archives.  There I  found names like our own listed as Holocaust victims. It was eerie to see a name just like my great grandfather’s name, Jakob Mettler on a death certificate. How grateful I am for my ancestors who converted to Christianity and later left Germany and Russia to pioneer in America and establish an inheritance for their descendents.   Without going into the full details of how it came to be, I will tell you that Joshua and I did indeed go to Israel together his first time in 1998. We stayed 40 days in the land and Joshua loved it.  The Lord gave me a clear directive in the fall of 1997, to have him at the Temple mount for his 12th birthday.  While it looked impossible, the  events that led us to Israel are truly amazing, and the Lord made a way for us.   While in Jerusalem on his birthday, he asked for two things:  a kippah and a prayer shawl, which were both bought for him in the old city of Jerusalem.  As Joshua was praying at the western wall on his birthday, I had a startling thought.  What if he could also have a bar mitzvah? It seemed impossible at the moment, but strangely intriguing and mysteriously spoken into my heart.  Within the next 10 days, I would sovereignly meet a Messianic rabbi from England who would be leading worship at a conference in Jerusalem. Sis Ruth Heflin was speaking at the same conference, and I would impulsively ask him if he would do a bar mitzvah ceremony of blessing upon my eager young son.  So it was that the Hand of the Lord mysterious and miraculously caused us to meet Rabbi Phil who came back to Mt Zion Fellowship where we were staying.  There he pronounced a blessing upon a very happy 12 year old young man ready to embrace manhood.  It was a gift of heaven that stunned and astounded all of us, and many pictures were taken of this beautiful ceremony.  Those who heard him reciting his prayers in Hebrew when the Rabbi had him repeat them felt it was as natural to him as English. While in Israel, he began to pick up the language quickly, always calling me ema, or mother in Hebrew.   Surely, I would not have imagined that my summer at the camp would result in the revealing of a hidden heritage, thus offering my son a place in the land of his inheritance and destiny.  While in Israel in 1998 with Joshua, I could hardly believe that we were there.  Brought by miraculous provision and direction to a land that Joshua still loves and yearns for even today.  I knew that young Jewish boys around the world longed to have a bar mitzvah in Jerusalem.  Why were we so highly favored?  Who would have thought that the Lord would have brought a mother and son to Israel from rural South Dakota for such a time as this?  The wonderment of it caused me to shiver with joy and gave me great confidence that surely HIS hand was upon us.  We would eventually make three extensive journeys to Israel together in 1998, 1999, and 2000.  Later I would come to understand more fully why I had been compelled to name him, Joshua Aaron, and have him circumcised on the eighth day. The signs and clues were already there for us.  At age 10, he had even played his violin in the role of the fiddler in “Fiddler on the Roof” the summer of 1996 at a local community theater in Mitchell.       A SUMMER OF CAMPMEETINGS ENDS   As the summer came to an end, I felt greatly unsettled.  I wondered if my dream and desire to be licensed and ordained as a minister would come to pass. By then, I'd heard about the protocol of previous ordinations, and it didn’t look as if I’d qualify.  However, Sis Ruth had brought many changes to the camp that summer. Many of them were painful as they displaced the deep-rooted traditions of camp procedure.  In the midst of many in-house power struggles and transitions, I had by the Grace of God managed to befriend some of the bewildered and beleaguered staff.   One lady whose name brought dread to staff and camp attendees alike was the formidable Sis Wiedemann. She was sort of “mother superior” to the staff with a strong personality that nobody dared challenge. She had been part of the strict legalistic teachings of long hair and dresses and didn’t tolerate anything that she didn’t consider holiness.  For some amazing reason, however, she seemed to like me.  I had offered to give her an occasional ride to do some camp business, and she complimented me on the way I was raising my son.  She didn’t even comment on my short hair, but I really couldn’t have done anything about that anyway.  Hair was a big deal to Sis Wiedemann.  I also knew she had great influence over Sis Ruth and that some internal power struggles were going on in the midst of the changes when Sis Ruth became the camp director after her brother’s death. I didn’t find out until later in the summer that Ruth’s brother, Bro Heflin and Sis Wiedemann had fallen in love and wanted to get married in their younger years.  However, because Bro Heflin had once been divorced before coming back to the Lord, they were forbidden to marry by Edith Heflin, his mother.  It was against their doctrine for someone to  remarry if either party had been divorced.   When I learned about that, the Lord gave me a great compassion for Sis Wiedemann.  It must have been very difficult to watch the man you loved and who loved you become the object of other women’s affections and overtures.  She had been the 'first lady' of the camp, so to speak, and was deeply grieved over his sudden death. Then she surely felt displaced by Sis Ruth having come back from Israel to be the new camp director.  The lady, who had been a victim of legalism, became one who persecuted and ruled with the same iron rod spirit of legalism. When we see the inner woundings of the heart, we are so much more prone to compassion and understanding.   Despite all the powerful prophetic words at camp that could put your hair on end and visions that I marveled about, I learned that the staff, mostly women, were human beings longing for love and acceptance.  At the camp, rank came primarily through much work and ministry.  The more that you prayed, stayed, fasted, and worked was the measure of spirituality, favor, and authority.  At that point, I could feel I wasn’t going to qualify for the ministerial status I’d yearned for and yet, by faith, I’d come with a hope in my heart.  The rest was up the God.   One night toward the end of camp, I had a powerful yet traumatic dream about being given something very precious. It seemed it was a jewel or a gem being handed to me, and I had reached out my hand to receive it.  But to my horror, ‘the precious thing’ was dropped before it came into my hand.  I woke in the night in a panic searching on the floor of my room for what had been dropped and anxious and upset that I had not received it or hung on to it.  Later the Lord would show me it was a dream concerning being handed ‘the precious thing’ called ordination and that it had come short of being put in my hand.  As I mused on the dream, I kept saying, “Why couldn’t I hang on to it?”  Then I realized the problem was that the giver had not secured ‘the precious thing’ to my hand. Normally, when you are being given something valuable, you make sure the person has it fully in their hand before you release your grip.  I relinquished my desire of ordination after the dream and knew it was out of my hands, literally.       “YOU GOT A MIRACLE TODAY”   The very last day of summer camp meeting was August 31, 1997.  It was a Sunday morning and I was preparing to go to the now very familiar open air tabernacle for the morning service. Campmeeting would be ending that night and so would my 10 ½ weeks of staying in the mysterious atmosphere that changed my life and opened me to the prophetic.  As I was preparing, someone came to my room door to let me know that Sis Ruth Heflin was asking for me. I did not know what that meant.  I headed up camp to find that Sis Ruth had decided to include me in the lineup of men and women being ordained and licensed at the concluding morning service.  I was thrilled beyond words. The weeks of suffocating heat, the tension of a staff in transition, the hours and hours of meetings, and the insecurities I’d faced, were culminating in a dream to establish my calling in ministry.  After the sermon, those of us called forth lined up at the front to receive prayer for blessing, impartation and ordination.  Other staff members would be led of the Holy Spirit to come and lay their hands on the ones the Lord showed to them for a special blessing and prophetic words were spoken over each one.    As my time approached, I was surprised to find Sis Weidemann making her way to pray for me personally and speak prophetically.  Then Sis Ruth Heflin and Sis Jane Lowder also laid their hands on me during the ordination.  A friend took a picture for me as I was bent over in the consecrating prayer. Sis Jane Lowder’s hands are on Joshua’s head as he stood beside me.  It was a public endorsement and acclamation that the call was valid, and I was being sent forth as a minister of the gospel.  Some have doubted the validity and necessity of public ordination, but personally, I felt it was a necessary declaration and public demonstration of confidence in the call of God. There is something beautiful and profound about the laying on of hands in ordination.   After the service, I made my way to Sis Ruth to thank her for ‘the precious thing’ that had been put in my hand after all.  I will never forget her comment, “You got a miracle today”.  With that I knew the public endorsement and blessing of Sis Viola Wiedemann had made the ordination possible with the triple blessing of three amazing women, Sis Ruth Ward Heflin, Sis Viola Weidemann, and Sis Jane Lowder, who has been the camp director since Ruth’s death in 2000.  For the past 10 years, I have returned to the camp at least once a year to maintain my association with them and to honor the memory of the extraordinary lady who spoke so powerfully into my life. More recently, in February, 2008, I once again made my way to the campground and marveled at all the changes that have happened there, and the changes and challenges that have happened to me.  I  had no way of knowing the Lord would eventually send me on a national circuit and that I would drive across the country multiple times to declare revival ‘from sea to shining sea’.   For it was during the summer of 1997, that in the huge open air tabernacle, I gazed every night at a huge gossamer wall sized banner with a map of the United States. It was full of twinkling lights dotting the country and the top of the banner read,  “From Sea to Shining Sea”.  It’s a line from the well loved song “America”.    “America, America, God shed His grace on thee, and crown thy good with brotherhood from sea to shining sea.”   It was a song that Ruth Heflin loved, and we sang it often as she prophesied of the mighty revival that would be coming to America.  After she left her beloved home in Israel, she limited all overseas travel and devoted her efforts to prepare for revival in this country. She said that upon hearing of her brother’s death and that she was needed at home in Ashland, the Lord told her, “It’s time for revival in America”. Many of us were greatly saddened by her sudden death in Sept 2000.  Yet she lives on in the books, lives, and testimonies of those she imparted herself to.  I will never forget my last time to see her alive.  I had driven to the east coast in January 2000 to begin a three month ministry tour up the east coast. I had just been to Israel in 1999 for six weeks, and it had been an incredibly amazing, yet difficult trip.  I was seeking the Lord on what was next. I had once again put my things in storage the summer of 1999, thinking I’d spend some extended time in Israel, yet feeling to cut it short to six weeks.  I was in a great shift of change once again.  I came to fast and pray for the next season of travel or ministry as I didn’t quite know what else to do.  It happened that I spent the entire three weeks of winter camp on the grounds, attending nearly all the meetings.  Other factors had also come in to unsettle me and cause me to question my effectiveness.     “I’M TAKING YOU WEST ...”   The previous December I had been in Minnesota and Wisconsin when I received three separate prophetic words that I was to look to the west. The third word came the most emphatically to a friend in Wisconsin. She said it was almost audible and she was to tell me,  “I’m taking you west, my daughter.”  I was mystified by the words, thinking west might be Wyoming or Montana. My thoughts of going all the way to the west coast of California didn’t form until I was at the campground  several weeks later.  When I would get my atlas out to look at our nation, I was intrigued by the thought of going across the country, but also bewildered.  I didn’t know anyone on the west coast.  How could that happen?    Thus the water journey was birthed out of the month of February, 2000, fasting and praying at the campground.  On the very last night, I ventured forth to ask Sis Ruth to lay her hands on me for a blessing before I left the next day.  I can still visualize her sitting on her chair on the platform.  When she laid her large hand on my head, I fell to the floor.  One of my last memories was looking up at her from the floor.  I had no idea that would be the very last time I would see her alive.  It would be months and years before I fully realized that somehow a mantle and mandate to pray over America was passed to me that night, for it was the very next day that the water story began.  Of all the people I know associated with the camp, I do not know of another like myself with the magnitude of travel across America and a mandate to pray into all 50 states.  It was surely the workings of the Lord to bring in one so inexperienced, yet eagerly willing to travel, and spread the tidings of revival.    It was while on my first trip to the west coast the summer of 2000 that word came to me that Sis Ruth had been diagnosed with cancer.  While in Minnesota on my return trip home after 12 weeks of  ’going west’,  I received the word of her passing. I deeply regretted that I had not been able to share with her the stories of gathering the waters of America for I know she would have loved it.  I had been give a three year window of opportunity to be mentored and ordained by a woman who many regard as one of the most influential Christian women of the last century.  Only in the last years have I fully come to recognize and appreciate the far reaching ramifications of what seemed to be just 10 weeks of summer camp. Today, those same connections bring me heart to heart with many of like spirit across the country and into Israel.  We have no way of seeing fully the purposes of God until they unfold before us. It is then, like Jacob of old, we say,  “Surely YOU were in this place, and I did not know it”.       THE WATER STORY BEGINS   The story and journey of the waters began innocently the day after camp ended when Joshua and I traveled with friends, Eric and Terri,  to visit historic Williamsburg, VA.  As we were driving, we just so happened to cross the James River in Virginia. I was suddenly reminded of the prophetic word regarding the James River in South Dakota.  I asked if we could stop and get some water out of the river to take back with me to pour into the James River of South Dakota.  On our way to Eric and Terrie's home in Hampton, VA, we also stopped at the beach on the Atlantic Ocean, where I felt to get another bottle of water.  At that time they seemed like souvenirs.  About two weeks later while in Delaware I went with my new friend, Janice, to Lewes and decided to get a small jar of Atlantic Ocean water.  Nearly a month later, while in Morehead City, North Carolina, I felt urged to get the third bottle of Atlantic Ocean water.  With that in hand, the strangest thought came to me that I would drive across the country and pour the waters of the Atlantic Ocean into the Pacific Ocean.  The thought was so bizarre that I would not speak of it for several weeks until the plans of the Lord began to unfold. I did indeed drive across America in 2000, and I poured the waters of the Atlantic into the Pacific Ocean. The journey of the waters thus began and now involves over 200 waters across the country and includes the waters given to me from other nations and Israel.   Probably one of the most amazing stories however, began in 2003, when Kerry and Barbara Lanzdorf and their family moved to Jamestown, North Dakota to pastor a new church there.  Later, we realized that the head waters of the James River start north of Jamestown and flow into a large reservoir north of the city.  There they are held and released downstream to flow nearly 700 meandering miles to empty into the Missouri River near Yankton, SD.  After much spiritual warfare and adversity following their move to Jamestown, ND, we began to see the plan of God to establish them at the headwaters of the very river I had prophesied about on April 8, 1997.    So it was that on April 8, 2004, I stood amazed by the providence of God with Kerry and Barbara, formerly of Ashland, VA,  their daughter, Danielle ,  Sis Jane Lowder, Director of Calvary Pentecostal Campground, and Sis Debbie Slayton, her  administrative assistant. We gathered together to pray on the hillside overlooking the James River. ALL of them were from Virginia but me, and I had brought back the waters of the James River in Virginia to pour into the South Dakota James River in 2000.  Sis Jane and Sis Debbie were holding revival meetings in Jamestown, ND that week. We were all amazed at the timing of the Lord to position us exactly seven years later to the day on April 8, 2004, at the site of the natural flood in 1997.  There we began to prophesy the release of spiritual flood waters that would bring refreshing across the midwest.    At the same time in April 2004, I began to speak about the James River prophecy in several South Dakota communities. One of the major churches in Yankton is pastored by Butch and Barbara Hladky.  We’ve had many wonderful times together and today they have a beautiful healing and prayer center called Abundant Life.  As much of this was coming to light, the Lord reminded me that I was born in Yankton, Mother City of the Dakotas.  The mouth of the James River empties into the Missouri River in the same area.  Then He showed me, “That is why I’ve called you to be My Mouth and declare revival across the Dakotas.”  Later, I would introduce the “headwaters” pastors, Kerry and Barbara , to the “mouth” pastors, Butch and Barb Hladky.  They became good friends traveling to one another’s churches on several occasions.   In other matters of interest, we learned that at one time the capitol of the Dakota Territories was in Yankton and in the night, the papers were stolen and taken to Jamestown, ND.  We also came to realize that both cities were nearly exactly the same size, both housed the state mental institutions, and both had federal or state prisons.  We also later learned to our astonishment that Jamestown, North Dakota was named after Jamestown, Virginia and the James River named thus as well.   Surely it is an amazing story of years of networking and marveling at the wonders of how the Lord connects and positions His people. Eventually we understand why we do what we do.  Faith that obeys and stays the course until the revelation of His ways are made known to us.   One additional story I will briefly tell you is that last summer in 2006, I drove to California and  was able to meet with Kevin and Virginia Hofer, who moved from South Dakota to Santa Rosa,  after the James River flooded their home and school in 1997. Kevin is the superintendent and they both teach at a large Christian school.  Through the years, I had lost touch with them and I felt compelled to look them up that summer.  I wanted to share with Kevin and Virginia the amazing James River stories, and they were truly surprised at what they were hearing. After the school flooded, I shared the prophetic word with him in 1997, but it had long been forgotten about in the obscurity of years.  I had only seen them only one time in 2000 after the flood.   As I shared about the James River,  Kevin got a twinkle in his eye. He told me that on the night before the flood, April 6, 1997, he had walked the school grounds to pray. Of course, he never dreamed the sandbagged dikes would crumble and the whole school and their home would be flooded and lost.  As he walked, he noticed springs of water shooting up from the ground due to the high water table pressure.  Suddenly, he felt to get some water from the cresting James River. He had put some in a jar and still had it in his possession.  He quietly retreated to a backroom bringing out a small jar containing the James River flood waters, labeled 1997.  It had never been opened, but he had kept it 'for some reason'.  As I shared about my waters, he reverently opened the small jar of original flood waters, and we poured and mingled them with the waters I had brought with me that together contained nearly 200 sources.   We were all profoundly amazed at the journeys and the mysterious workings of the Lord.   Surely the Voice of the Lord is upon the waters and is thundering forth His purposes. Very recently, I felt the Lord say that as surely as the waters have been gathered, the revelation of why they have been gathered will come from many sources as well. For truly it is a prophetic picture of the streams of purpose and people flowing together into a Mighty River of Revival and Refreshing.     “The voice of the Lord is upon the water; the God of glory thunders; the Lord is upon many great waters”.  Psalms 29:3   “There is a river, whose streams shall make glad the city of God.”  Psalms 46:1     And last, but certainly not least:   “He gathers the waters of the sea as in a bottle; He puts the deeps in storage places.” Psalms 33:7     SELAH MINISTRIES Carla Reed, Minister 21200 E Country Vista Dr Apt L-104 Liberty Lake, WA 99019 Phone: 509-599-0433 Cell: 605-376-0033 Email: selahministries@hotmail.com If you would like to order this in print form, send $5.00 Remember I can take Visa and MasterCard and PayPal. Just go to www.PayPal.com and use the email: SelahMinistries@hotmail.com (You do not have to join PayPal just to make a purchase payment.) If you'd rather send a check, please mail it to: Carla Reed 21200 E Country Vista Dr #L-104 Liberty Lake, WA 99019