Prophecy – what to avoid

jigsaw

If you are going to step out in the gift of prophecy (and the Bible urges you to do so), there is much to encourage you—especially regarding things to do, like praying, believing, and discerning.

But what about things to avoid? Well, yes, there are a few areas that feel like “walking on eggshells” or are simply best avoided. The prophetic gift, as visitors to this site likely know, is intended and mandated to encourage, strengthen, and reveal the heart of God to His people. It is a brilliant, essential gift for the Church, with the power to build up quickly and graciously. However, it is never meant to be deterministic, to “micromanage” someone’s life, or to dictate (predict or guess!) the path of their future.

Occasionally, God may allow glimpses into personal aspects of someone’s life, but such moments come with significant responsibility. When we speak into someone’s future, especially in sensitive areas like marriage, children, life and death, or calling, we need mature discernment and wisdom to know when to speak and when to hold back.

Take marriage, for example. Declaring who someone’s “God-ordained spouse” is might seem like a bold act of encouragement, yet more often than not, such words lead to confusion rather than clarity. For those who are both gifted and mature in the prophetic, a transparent, humble word of encouragement—offered without any hidden agenda or the old “thus says the Lord” style—can sometimes bring peace. Even so, it is wise to avoid specifics. If God is truly leading someone into a particular relationship, He does not need us to play matchmaker. He has His own ways of making His plans known.

The area of children is another tender space. Predicting someone’s future children or the number of children they will have might sound joyful, but for couples facing infertility or loss, such words can feel emotionally burdensome rather than uplifting. Sometimes, the most faithful response is a gentle prayer, acknowledging their longing and inviting God’s comfort without venturing into specifics. For the mature prophet (a term I emphasise for its necessity), a word of encouragement may be shared, but often the wisest choice by far is to pray for God’s timing and peace rather than attempt to predict the future.

Matters of life and death—such as illness or lifespan—require extreme care. Personally, I would leave these matters alone. Scripture tells us that the number of our days is in God’s hands (Psalm 139:16). While it is a privilege to pray for healing, hope, and peace, it is not our role to predict outcomes. In such moments, we should always point people towards Christ, their ultimate comfort and hope. Our words should encourage trust in God’s sovereign love, not plant seeds of anxiety or fear.

Prophesying about someone’s future influence or calling—those “you’ll write a book” or “you’ll be a leader” prophecies—also requires caution. True calling usually aligns with God-given desires that are already present. If someone is meant to write, they likely already feel a nudge in that direction. Prophetic words that affirm an existing calling can be encouraging, but they should be delivered humbly—and probably more as encouragement than as ‘a word’. After all, how many authors say they never dreamed of writing until a prophecy came along? Most are already on the journey, and a word from God simply nudges them further along a path they already sense.

Another area to handle with care is “after-the-fact” words. Saying, “God showed me that” after an event has occurred can sometimes be helpful in close friendships, but even then, we should guard against presumption. Not every impression we sense is a word from the Lord. True humility reminds us that our understanding is limited; often, it is better to hold our words in prayer, allowing God to reveal His purposes in His time rather than rushing to share every impression—many of which can be somewhat subjective.

Ultimately, prophetic ministry is about drawing people closer to Jesus, not setting them on a fixed course. Every word we share should help others sense God’s love, freedom, and grounding presence. For the one who prophesies, it’s not just about “stepping out in faith,” but about growing in friendship with Christ, learning to hear Him clearly, and walking in step with His Spirit. The prophetic journey shapes the prophet as much as it does the hearer, drawing both nearer to the One whose heart we seek to reveal.

Our goal should be to gently direct others to Jesus, the true author of every story. He calls each of us forward with kindness, patience, and wisdom that never fails. For our part, in this phenomenal adventure of the prophetic, let our words be humble, gracious, and rooted in love—that’s the prophetic gift at its best.

Walking on water – no footprints

Walking on water - no footprints

The story of Peter walking on water never fails to mesmerise—like a storm-churned sea that settles under the gaze of Jesus, there’s something endlessly captivating about it.

It’s not just about Peter, though he tends to grab our attention because, well, we see ourselves in his boldness and his blunders. But look closer; this story is loaded with other figures, questions, and wonder.

There’s Jesus, of course—the only true Hero on the water, who, with just a word, makes the impossible a reality. He doesn’t just stroll across the storm-tossed waves; He calls others to do the same. And then, as if that weren’t enough, He empowers them to follow His lead. Imagine it: the Lord of all creation calmly stepping over the boundaries of nature, then inviting a mere man—Peter—to join Him in defying every known law of physics. No life jacket, no safety net, just a call to step out.

And then, over in the boat, we have the rest of the disciples. Eyes wide, mouths hanging open, no doubt too shocked to speak. They don’t know how to walk on water. They aren’t even sure if they want to. Did they wonder what it felt like? Was the water firm or strangely buoyant? Did Peter feel a surge of divine courage when Jesus said, “Come”? We don’t know, because they didn’t ask.

When Peter steps out, he walks with just enough faith to carry him a few precious steps before he sinks. And yet, even those steps are history-making. He’s walking toward God Himself, yet he leaves no footprints behind him on the waves—nothing but a story that would be told and retold for generations. The narrative doesn’t measure his strides, calculate his speed, or describe his posture. The action moves quickly, gathering us up in its momentum. Peter steps out, starts strong, stumbles, and then—just as suddenly—Jesus catches him, and it’s over.

And perhaps that’s where you find yourself, somewhere in the echoes of this story. You’re either still in the boat, eyes glued to the one bold enough to step out, or you’re Peter, daring to test the waters of faith—only to feel the winds of doubt.

The truth here is compelling: one person in that boat saw the impossible and asked to join in. He didn’t wait for an explanation or take a safety poll. He simply made a move. Others watched, holding back, maybe too cautious to even whisper their questions.

Peter leaves no trace on the water, but he leaves a story. And stories are sometimes better than footprints; they linger longer, travel farther, and stir something in those who hear them. What story will you leave? The saying goes that the opportunity of a lifetime must be seized in the lifetime of the opportunity. You may not always see the full map, but when Jesus says “Come,” step out boldly. Walk where He calls, without waiting for perfect conditions, without needing every question answered. Let your story speak of His astonishing grace, that He called you to walk a road—or even waves—you couldn’t manage on your own.

In the end, Jesus is still the only One who truly walks on water, but He loves inviting others to come out and join Him in the impossible.

It’s an invitation to a marvellous journey, one only He could author, because He alone is the awesome God who doesn’t just lead us to safety but calls us into adventure. And somehow, it’s in taking those trembling steps toward Him that we find our lives brimming with a story worth telling.