John G. Lake: The Roots Go To The Bones

When I was 18, in the dead of winter, somewhere in Upstate New York I had found myself in a small country church with my brothers, Mom and a few friends. We had gone as the worship team for a special meeting as a Prophet was coming to town… and by “we” I mean all those previously mentioned outside myself. Mind you, the family musical skills did not transfer down to me. Alas, there we were, lost in worship. The man of God began to minister and what he preached, I could never tell you. In fact, I was probably paying more attention to the cute guitar player than the words of the minister. Let’s keep it real.

Then the minister began prophesying over people in the crowd, calling them out one by one. He came to me, and I stepped forward. My oversized wool sweater keeping me warm on this icy night. As he began to pray, I felt an electricity come over me. Eyes tightly closed but ears wide open, straining to hear each word he said. He began to prophesy about healing the sick, emptying hospitals and seeing mighty miracles. He said, “You will see things like John G. Lake and Kathryn Kuhlman… you need to get every book on Healing Ministers and read them all.”

Fast Forward 14 years and I am ministering in Seattle, WA along side my incredible preacher-man hubs at Seattle Revival Center’s Declaration 2016 Conference. Up to this time, in our ministry together we had seen many miracles, signs and wonders and God truly showed himself to us in a powerful way. The meetings went from being a four-day conference to nightly gatherings that never seemed to end. We agreed to stay 3 more days, then a week, then another week… you get the point.

Declaration Conference had turned into a full blown Awakening… not just a revival. Revivals are for things that are dead. We were not dead. Those at the meetings were not dead. They were fully alive and being awakened to the supernatural reality of Christ’s healing and transforming power in this very time and season that we live in today! It was gloriously humbling to encounter night after night the sweet presence of the Holy Spirit and partner with transformation.

As the weeks went on, I flew home to my kids and Charlie pressed on. Traveling from Seattle to Pittsburgh, PA igniting another Awakening and re-opening the Healing Miracle Well of Kathryn Kuhlman… stirring up the waters. Those meetings continue on to this very moment I am writing my blog. After a whirlwind weekend in Pittsburg, he flew back to Seattle, a month had passed since he slept in his own bed. The kids and I boarded a plane and met him in Seattle that very night, reunited… and it felt so good!

This is where the plot thickens… We had heard the stories of John G. Lake our whole young adult life and dreamed of visiting Spokane, Washington. Ministry travels had never lead us so close than that very moment. Being the good husband Charlie was, he didn’t dare go adventuring without me… especially not to John G. Lake territory! If you read my previous article you know we have been to Smith Wigglesworth grave, a Pioneer of Faith and Power. The list goes on my dear friends; William Branham, John Alexander Dowie, Daniel Nash, John Wesley, Maria Woodworth- Etter, and Charles Finney. Some homes, churches, graves of those Fathers and Mothers in the Faith that have gone before us.

We heard the story of the late Prophet Bob Jones and his encounters when visiting John G. Lake’s memorial. It goes something like this…

 I remember I was once told to go to Spokane, Washington and lay my hand on a Pine Tree. I didn’t understand it, but I was ministering in Seattle and they took me to Spokane and I was asking the guy, ‘Do you know anything particular about a Pine Tree?’ and he says, ‘Yeah, there’s one growing out of a grave… John G. Lakes grave.’ And I said, ‘It’s really strange, but I was told I’m supposed to lay my hands on that Pine Tree.’ I went up there and laid my hands on that Pine Tree and fire come up on my shoulders and at different times even today, fire comes up on my shoulders and my hands. I said, ‘Lord, I don’t understand that kind of stuff and I need to understand this’… He said, ‘The Roots Go Down Into The Bones.’

So with this in mind, we loaded our children into the car and drove the 4.5-hour journey from Seattle to Spokane. It was a beautifully clear day and we stopped at the Wild Horse Monument and were nearly blown over by force of the mighty gusts of wind. The kids loved it!

When we finally arrived at the cemetery, we thought it’d be easy to spot the grave with the Pine Tree coming out of it… surely, a simple task. With nearly 30 minutes until public visiting hours ended it felt as if we entered a forest of Pine Trees. I mean to tell you, there were so many trees I burst out laughing… thinking… sure, let’s go lay hands on the Pine Tree! There are so many and how are we ever going to find it? A few minutes later with the help of a receptionist, we had map in hand and away we went.

We pulled the car to a stop and everyone jumped out, scrambling to find the grave marker that said John G. Lake. We arrived at the site only to discover the Pine Tree had been cut down. The very Pine Tree that is in all the stories… the one with the roots that go to the bone. Gasp! Oh, but the plans I had in my mind to lay hands on the tree and receive the fire like Bob had… all up in smoke. Without thinking and a layer fresh sawdust sprinkled across the stump, I skipped forward and said, “Charlie, I’m going to sit on the tree!” Before he could get out, “You’re What?!”. I had already plopped down and posed for my photo op! Then as I began to stand up and straighten my skirt, I felt it. A warm, gooey, sticky substance had transferred itself from the base of that decapitated Pine Tree and adhered to the backside of my dress!

Pine Sap.

The blood that ran through the veins of the tree that grew from the grave of the Man of Faith and Healing. Now smeared across my backside, reminding me of Psalm 1 and the importance of where we find ourselves seated…

 

“How well God must like you—

you don’t hang out at Sin Saloon,

you don’t slink along Dead-End Road,

you don’t go to Smart-Mouth College.

 

Instead you thrill to God’s Word,

you chew on Scripture day and night.

You’re a tree replanted in Eden,

bearing fresh fruit every month,

Never dropping a leaf,

always in blossom.

 

You’re not at all like the wicked,

who are mere windblown dust—

Without defense in court,

unfit company for innocent people.

 

God charts the road you take.

The road they take is Skid Row.”

Psalm 1 The Message Translation

It was a day I will remember forever. A day filled with the God-kind of Adventure… A day when personal prophecy meets a personal life-path forged. A day when history collides with destiny and you know full well that you’ve walked those famous Frost words,

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

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