Sons of God's Generals: Unlocking the Power of Godly Inheritance (9 page)

I, like many other ministers’ kids, spent my life
doing
ministry and I wouldn’t trade it for the world. But when the
doing
part stopped, I was thrown off balance. I had to learn how to let my life
be
my ministry. Coming from the family that I do, I definitely struggled with wondering what my parents and others would think if I didn’t continue in their footsteps and commit my life to full-time ministry. Instead of judging me, my parents blessed my decision to be a wife, mother, and artist. I’ve spent the last few years establishing a new normal and I have learned something very valuable. Even though I don’t want to be an evangelist like my father or a teacher like my mother, I still have a very valid place to minister from—as a mother, a friend, a wife, an artist. I have chosen a different life for myself. I honor and respect people who have given their lives to full-time ministry. It is a high calling that only God can place on one’s life. My parents still serve the Lord full time and they love it. For the rest of us who have chosen careers and parenthood—wherever you are, whatever you are doing, it
is
ministry as long as your heart is submitted to God.

The definition of a Christian is to bear Christ. We are His body and wherever we go, whomever we talk to, we are Christ to them. We can all believe for the supernatural realm of heaven to manifest in our lives. We can pray for our friends, co-workers, and neighbors and see them blessed. We can pray for the sick and see them healed. We can give to the needy and homeless. We can go on short-term missions trips and bring God’s love and joy to the poor. I plan to take my children to the garbage dumps with my parents’ ministry as often as possible so that they too can have life-changing and character-molding experiences similar to what I had.

The mindset that you are either in ministry or in the world inhibits us from reaching our full potential to bear fruit for the Kingdom. Don’t put yourself in that silly box. The two don’t have to be separate! It is my desire to raise my children with that mindset as their normal—that we are
all
ministers of the gospel and can demonstrate the love of Christ to everyone we come into contact with. So now, my “normal” might be more relatable to others—less gallivanting around the globe and more sleepless nights, finger-painting, playing at the park, and eating Cheerios. Do I miss my parents and our adventures? I certainly do, but every day God teaches me that this is exactly where He wants me to be, and I am learning to embrace it all. My grass is green.

I remember the day that I met Jesus. I was sitting on my parents’ bed, and my dad was explaining to me who Jesus was, that He loved me. He explained to my little heart that I needed a savior who had paid for everything I would ever do wrong, and if I believed in Him I would live forever in heaven with Him. I was three years old, and to this day I can still feel the impact of that decision in my heart. I choose Jesus again!

Now that I’m 50 (and hopefully wiser), I have begun to appreciate that salvation experience that was birthed in the love of God—for me first, and then back to Him. It’s part of my bedrock. I was not scared into meeting Jesus, but rather “loved” into meeting Him. Through the years, with decisions made, both good and bad, I have been deeply aware of how Jesus feels about my choices. I’ve been aware of hurting Him or pleasing Him with my decisions, without condemnation, but aware of His preferences.

I can honestly say that there has never ever been a day in my life when I have regretted the decision I made at three to welcome Jesus into my heart and life.

When I was little, my dad would read me Bible stories—his way. What I mean is, he never read me a Bible story from a children’s book (you know, the ones with pictures), but rather always read me Bible stories right from the Bible. He has always had a way of reading the Bible and making it come alive. Those of us who know him and have heard him speak know he has a way of reading the Scriptures so naturally. He always wanted me to hear it “without interpretation” and as truthfully as possible. I now understand that it is a part of who he is—wanting to keep things honest and true, without embellishment and man’s interference. He has taught me by example to expect the real thing from God. My model and hunger to ask lots of questions began with these encounters. He would encourage me, “If you want to know more about something, ask.” Sometimes, after I had asked many questions in a row, he would say, “Wait till the end, and I will answer them all.”

Learning to ask questions of others, but especially with the Lord, is still such a valuable tool for me. In our story times, I would love to hear about Jesus—His kindness, His wise responses. He was so clever! As a little girl, I loved to picture what my ears were hearing. The book of Revelation became such living pictures for me all through life—the place we were going. Heaven. It was easy for me to visualize the streets made of real gold! It was easy for me to anchor my hope in this place of beautiful gemstones and peaceful rivers and gardens. These embedded memories would play a significant role in my life many years later.

My dad is still my favorite speaker and teacher. No matter how often I’ve heard him speak the same messages (some of them dozens of times), I love to hear him share them again. I still love the way he thinks, questions, and explains.

My dad was born on December 25, 1940, John Goodwin Arnott. His middle name, Goodwin, is to honor the name of the doctor who delivered him and probably saved his life at birth, as the umbilical cord was wrapped twice around his neck. I am told that when he was a little boy, he needed braces on his legs in order to walk, as his ankles were weak and needed support. I remember when I was little, although he took us ice skating, he did not skate with us because his ankles were weak.

He has always been adventurous, jumping on the bread wagon and the milk wagon that would pass on his street—at three years of age! He has always wanted to go! His mom would tie him to the tree in the front yard and neighbors passing by would hear his plea, “Please undone me.” It’s wonderful to see, with all of the world traveling he does now, that it has always been something he is wired for and happy to do.

I must admit that this “adventure bug” of his hasn’t always felt great to me. We moved every couple of years and didn’t like it as little girls. Although my dad is now recognized as an amazing visionary, I didn’t see it that way as I was growing up. As I mentioned, we moved often, and they were usually significant moves—from the big city to a farm! We moved from one country to another. (Only to Florida, but having moved from Canada, the other kids thought I had lived in an igloo!) We never moved just down the street. It was always a whole new environment.

I am the oldest of two girls. Vicki, my sister, is two years younger. One of the things my heavenly Father has restored and healed in my heart is some of the heartache and fear from these big changes—different homes, different schools, different friends, etc. As the oldest, of course, my mom and dad would ask me to take care of my little sister. On one hand, it was great to learn about responsibility and feel so trusted by my parents—all a good part of my training in caring for others, motherhood, church leadership, etc. However, at the same time, my heart was also hearing and believing some wrong messages about being “responsible for everyone and everything!”

I wanted to be a good girl. I wanted to please my parents. It mattered to me when my dad was upset with me. I’m thankful they taught me right from wrong. Usually we would wait in our room for Dad to come in and discipline us. Honestly, I think the wait was worse than the punishment, knowing I had disappointed Mom or Dad. I really wanted to be a good girl, but again, my heart began to believe untruths about love.

As mentioned before, I have been a Christian for most of my life. If ever I compared myself to others, who perhaps had more dramatic salvation testimonies, my dad would say to me, “Honey, you have the greatest testimony of all—the saving, keeping, grace of God for all of your life!” He exposed me to some wonderful giants of faith, such as Kathryn Kuhlman, and for that I feel really privileged. I’ve heard great Bible teachers, been in wonderful corporate worship services, been involved in deliverance ministry, small groups in our home, and even helping in the crèche when Benny Hinn’s ministry first began in Toronto. My hunger for more of God has always been nurtured and encouraged, primarily by my dad. When I was 11, I began to hear about the baptism of the Holy Spirit, and a desire to know Him and be filled with Him began to stir in my heart. For at least one year, I went up for every altar call given to receive this baptism. I remember feeling discouraged and disappointed that it never happened to me!

One night while living in Florida, my mom and dad took me to Jamie Buckingham’s church for the evening service. We often went there on Sunday nights after attending our local Baptist church on Sunday mornings. Our local church had wonderful programs for kids, but not too much freedom in the Holy Spirit. In those days, the doctrine taught there was that speaking in tongues was of the devil. Meanwhile, my heart was longing for this experience and to know Him more. During this evening service, visiting speakers Charles and Frances Hunter were there. Again, like most Charismatic meetings in the ’70s, there was an altar call to be baptized in the Holy Spirit. Because of my discouragement and disappointment on this already, I had decided that I would never go up again for one of these altar calls. God knew where I was, that I wanted Him, and He could find me!

To this day, I do not know how I got to the front. I found myself there, speaking in tongues! I loved my friends and youth group at our Baptist church. I really wanted to share with them my excitement about what God had just done for me, just shown me. I did not know how to explain it all to them. I didn’t know how to argue the theology with them. My dad gave me some advice that day, which has proven to be pure wisdom, and I believe carried him, too, through stewarding the amazing work of God he has led and is leading. He said to me, “Honey, you don’t have to explain everything to them; just tell them what happened to you.” It has been the “testing of the fruit” example that is so valid and relevant all over the world now.

My parents separated and then divorced when I was 15 and 16. It was obviously a very sad time. I came back to Toronto with my dad, and my sister stayed in Florida with my mom. Although it was such a sad time and our family was torn in two, it was also a treasured time between my dad and I. We had each other. We started again, together—new apartment, borrowed furniture, then eventually new furniture!

When he wanted to get married again, he included me. I felt so welcomed into that decision—even helping him pick out her engagement ring! I had known and loved Carol before we moved to Florida. She lived across the street with her two little boys, Rob and Mike, who I sometimes babysat. It was great knowing and loving her (and Rob and Mike) before we became family.

On January 20, 1994, a divine, supernatural visitation from Heaven—the Father’s love being poured out sovereignly to all—happened at my dad’s church in Toronto. The “Father’s Blessing” movement began a fresh revelation for me (and obviously millions of others). This has, of course, always been what Father God has been revealing about Himself, but not always getting through. His heart being revealed to the children, so that our hearts can respond back to Him—all in very personal ways and experiences that we have each had with Him.

I came to Toronto a few days after it all began (I was living in Texas at the time). My dad had called and told me what was happening. Because he had always pursued authentic experiences with God, I never doubted his words when he said to me, “This is the revival I’ve prayed for all my life!” Throughout the past 20 years particularly, God has been revealing to me just how much I am unconditionally loved. Many of these things were reminders of truths. Many were messages that my dad had tried to teach me throughout my life, but many were fresh pictures and revelations of who my (heavenly) Father really is. In any places my heart had picked up wrong messages, I have been forever changed. The Father’s wonderful grace message is continually being poured out into my heart.

The Father really loves me! No matter what! If I do everything wrong, from now until Jesus returns, He won’t love me any less! If I do everything right, He won’t love me more!

My dad used to often hug me and say, “I’m so proud of you; you’ve never caused me a moment’s grief.” Obviously, that’s not really true, but how wonderful for that to be the predominate thought he has toward me. Unfortunately, sometimes what I heard was,
What happens if I get it wrong? What if I do cause him grief?
The revelation of the Father’s unconditional love has been incredibly freeing for me.

I have met many children of pastors and leaders who have grown up in this horrible performance lie. Often when we have grown up believing this, there are unfortunate patterns and reputations that follow us. Sometimes we hide our sin, rebel against God with a vengeance, walk in great fear, but worst of all, we don’t step into our inheritance of freedom and destiny, prepared by our family gone before us. This lie can keep us from even greater exploits in God.

I’m sure most of the other authors and contributors to this book would say that their mothers or fathers were their spiritual parents as well as their natural parents. This is definitely true for me, and I consider it a huge privilege! My dad has exemplified so much to me, including having fun in life and ministry, not taking things too seriously, valuing God’s anointing above all else, and so much more. Although both of us are so proud of each other, that does not mean that these two simultaneous relationships have always been an easy journey for my dad and me.