Sons of God's Generals: Unlocking the Power of Godly Inheritance by Joshua Frost

and Anointed One.” Because it was what “good kids” did, I sang along:
    Jesus. Jesus. Holy and anointed one.
    Your name is like honey on my lips.
    Your spirit like water to my soul.
    Suddenly a warmth filled my chest. This sensation remained for several minutes. If there’s one thing I recall about not
really
knowing God, it’s the anxiety. My mind was often captivated by fearful thoughts. But for that pinch of eternity I felt peace.
    That little dab would have to do me for a while. The life of a family in Christian service was full of uncertainty, ministry partners coming and going, and then, of course, the fallouts. One such fallout, the details of which I’ll spare you, led to my family packing up and moving to another state. My parents loved me deeply, but in the midst of this chaos my very real spiritual battles flew under the radar.
    Independence
    As I became a teen, it became painfully clear to my parents and to me that my interests were not lining up with the prophetic word God had given before I was born. Now,
overall
the word had eerie accuracy—I did passionately love both history and the arts—but I was decidedly not choosing history as my desired career, as Dad said that I would. Furthermore, coming from a central Missourian family with Holiness Movement roots, I rather doubt my parents imagined that “the arts” God had mentioned could mean
movies!
    I talked about becoming a professional film critic or a scriptwriter. My dad’s surprise, and sometimes discomfort, was palpable—things were not going according to plan! Conflicts erupted over my interests. But the real story wasn’t about my vocation but about my desperate need to feel like I had more power over my own future than a prophecy of my dad’s.
    This struggle with Dad magnified the tension in my soul about God. Who was God? Did God, like the man of power I encountered at age seven, have a desire to control me? And if I was
fated
to eventually choose history over the arts, then why even bother with a career in filmmaking?
    Forgiveness
    By the time I hit sixteen, something happened that I can only attribute to the sovereign hand of God. I began to
crave
forgiveness, and I began yearning to extend forgiveness to my parents. If only I could. But that would require change. And after all the “moves of the Spirit” and the moves of the home address, I did not like change.
    In the year 2000, I finally found the key I had been searching for. That fall my whole family flew to Washington, D.C. for “The Call,” a massive twelve-hour prayer event. A total of 400,000 believers assembled to intercede for the nation that day, but I, of course, hung back at the hotel as long as I could. Finally, I decided to make an appearance. When I arrived at the grounds where these thousands were praying, I saw something that would change my life forever.
    One of the leaders on stage began to speak about how the Lord had convicted him of allowing offense to grow between him and his children. One of his daughters, the child with whom he had experienced the greatest tension, came on stage. Sincerely and humbly, this father and pastor got down on his knees, produced a wash basin and towel, and washed his daughter’s feet. Tears poured down both their faces as he apologized for years of hurt and frustration.
    Suddenly wash basins appeared for anyone who wanted one. My dad grabbed a towel and started washing my feet. With tears he then told me what I had needed to hear all those years. He was sorry he had put pressure on me to fulfill the prophecies God had shown him about my life. He said he would never bring them up again. He said he loved me and that he would no longer try to steer me away from the film industry. I tried to stay strong and show no emotion, but inside I felt that deep warmth and peace I had experienced all those years ago when I sang “Holy and Anointed One.”
    That was what I needed. I was now free to move forward in my calling. But more