The Vision by Rick Joyner
The Would-Be Mentor
EPISODE 42
Just when I thought I would collapse under the weight of this terrible discovery, a man I had known and esteemed as a great man of God came forward to steady me. As he greeted me warmly, his touch somehow revived me.
I had wanted to be discipled by this man, but we did not get along well. As had happened with a number of other men of God I tried to get close to, I was an irritation to this man, and he had finally asked me to leave. For years I had felt guilty about this, convinced that I had missed a great opportunity because of some flaw in my character. Even though I had put it out of my mind, I still carried the weigh of this failure. When I saw him it all surfaced, and a sick feeling came over me. Now he was so regal that I felt even more repulsive and embarrassed by my poor condition wanted to hide, but there was no way I could avoid him he here.
To my surprise, his warmth toward me was so genuine that he soon put me at ease. There did not seem to be barriers between us. In fact, the love I felt coming from almost completely took away my self consciousness.

"I have waited eagerly for this meeting," he said.
"You were waiting for me?" I asked. "Why?"
"You are just one of many that I am waiting for. I did not understand until my judgement that you were one that that was called to help—to even disciple-but I rejected you."
"Sir," I protested, "it would have been a great honor to have been discipled by you, and I am very thankful for the time I did have with you. But I was so arrogant that I deserved the rejection. I know that my rebellion and pride have prevented me from having a real spiritual father. This was not your fault, but mine."
"It is true that you were prideful, but that is not why I was offended with you," he said. "I was offended because of my insecurity, which made me want to control everyone around me. I was offended that you would not accept everything I said without questioning it. I then started to look for anything that was wrong with you so I could justify rejecting you. I began to feel that if I could not control you, I thought that one day you would embarrass me and my ministry. I esteemed my ministry more than I did the people for whom it was given to me to disciple, so I drove you and many others like you away."
"I must admit that at times I thought you had turned into a.." I stopped myself, embarrassed by what I was about to say.

"And you were right," he said with a genuineness unknown in the realms of earth. "I had been given the grace to be a spiritual father, but I was a very poor one. All children are rebellious. They are all self-centered, and think the world revolves around them. That is why they need parents to raise them. Almost every child will at times bring reproach on his family, but he is still a part of the family.
"I turned away many of God's own children— precious people He had entrusted to me so they could be brought to maturity. I failed with many of those who stayed with me.
Most of them suffered terrible and unnecessary wounds and failures that I could have helped them avoid. Many of them are now prisoners of the enemy.
"I built a large organization," he continued, "and had considerable influence in the church. But the greatest gifts the Lord entrusted to me were the people who were sent to me for discipling, many of whom I rejected. Had I not been so self-centered and concerned with my own reputation, I would be a king here. I was called to sit on one of the highest thrones. All that you have and will accomplish would have been in my heavenly account as well. Instead, much of what I gave my attention to was of very little eternal significance.'
"What you accomplished was astounding," I interjected.
"What looks good on earth looks very different here. What will make you a king on earth will often be a stumbling block to keep you from being a king here. What will make you a king here is lowly and unacclaimed on earth.
I failed some of the greatest tests and greatest opportunities that were given to me, one of which was you. Will you forgive me?"
"Of course," I said, embarrassed. "But I am in need of your forgiveness, too. I still think that it was my awkwardness and rebellion that made it difficult for you. In fact, I too have failed to let some people get close to me who wanted to-for the same reasons you did not want me around you."
"It is true that you were not perfect," he replied, "and I discerned some of your problems rightly. Yet that is never reason to reject someone. The Lord did not reject the world when He saw its failures. He did not reject me when He saw my sin. He laid down His life for me. It is always the greater who must lay down his life for the lesser. Even though I was more mature and had more authority than you, I became like one of the goats in the parable, rejecting the Lord by rejecting you and many others He sent to me."
As he talked, his words were striking me deeply. I, too, was guilty of everything he mentioned. Passing through my mind were the faces of many young men and women I had brushed off as not being important enough for my time. I desperately wanted to return and gather them together!

The grief that I began to feel was even worse than I had felt about wasting my time. I had wasted people! Now many of these were prisoners of the enemy, wounded and captured during the battle on the mountain. This whole battle was for the people, and yet people are often our least concern. We will fight for truths more than for the people for whom the truths are given. We will fight for ministries, while running roughshod over the people in them.
"And many people think of me as a spiritual leader! I am truly the least of the saints," I thought out loud.