God's Judgments

By David Hobbs



People looking to global warming theories to explain the recent severe storm back east and the forest fires out west are looking in the wrong place. Consider the timing of this "derecho" storm (as powerful as a hurricane): right after the convoluted Supreme Court decision approving Obamacare. And consider the path of the storm: from Chicago to Washington. Hmm. Now what is significant about those two cities? And the damage was centered around Washington.

It brings to mind a similar happening in my state of Calif. where the battle over same-sex marriage has waxed long and intense. In a milestone event, the state Supreme Court in May, 2008, invalidated the law allowing heterosexual marriage only as unlawful discrimination against homosexuals. It mandated government approval of same sex marriage to go into effect June 16th, at 5:01 pm. Four days later, on June 20th, “Dry thunderstorms and lightning, rarely seen on the California coastline in June, rolled [a]shore. The storm unleashed 25,000 to 26,000 dry lightning strikes across Northern and Central California, igniting more than 2,000 fires.…[By] July 12, 2008, the area burned reached 801,726 acres, making those wildfires in 2008 the greatest wildfire in California history by burned area.” (Wikipedia, “Summer 2008 California Wildfires”)

But these present fires. These present fires. Explain them! They’re centered around Colorado Springs, a mecca for Christians and Christian ministries. Explain that! Yes, the worst fire is the Waldo fire in Colorado Springs, the home of the largest concentration of Christian ministries in the world. But don’t forget that God judges His own people also for misrepresenting Him. In fact, scripture says that judgment must begin with the family of God (1 Peter 4:17+), “and if it begins with us, what will the outcome be for those who do not obey the gospel of God? And ‘If it is hard for the righteous to be saved, what will become of the ungodly and the sinner?’”

God has His own opinion of things (clearly expressed in the Bible) and judges accordingly. But His judgments are primarily warnings to turn us from our evil ways. Hurricane Katrina--on New Orleans and its Mardi Gras’ debauchery; 9-11—on the World Trade Center, the epicenter of the world economic system of greed and godlessness; 1994 Northridge earthquake (Los Angeles area)—under the largest concentration of pornography producers in the world.

Wake up people. God is speaking. But are we listening?

Keep reading for my own story of how I saw firsthand a judgment from God and what prompted it.

God's Judgments--My Story

"Tradeshow Intercession," from

Walking in the Spirit, by David Hobbs, 4L Press



The Christian Booksellers Association Tradeshow in Atlanta (July, 2007) was a massive event. Taking place in one building of the World Congress Center—which in itself is a huge facility—it filled floors of meeting rooms, auditoriums, restaurants, etc. But the epicenter was the main exhibit hall in the lowest basement, a cavernous room with 9 acres of exhibits containing over 400 exhibitors.


Monday, the first day, was a blur of activity. I found the booth of the Christian Small Publisher’s Association, my group, and met the others who had come to exhibit: a brave band of unknown souls up against the Zondervans and Thomas Nelsons of the Christian publishing world….

By Tuesday I was free to walk around and check out the exhibits. I was overwhelmed by the sheer amount and variety of what was available: books by the thousands--audio books, printed books, online books—companies that would print your books one at a time on demand; foreign printers from India, Mexico, and China; brokers who would find a printer for you; ghost writers; companies that sold curriculum for Sunday School and youth ministries; companies that would convert your printed book to an audio book, or your sermons to a printed book; companies that would translate your book into Spanish, or Russian, or East Timorian…. it went on and on, and that was only the book section! Then there was the gift section, an endless array of candles, jewelry, knick knacks, banners, paintings, choir robes, posters, chairs, pews, vestments, church calendars, coffee mugs, greeting cards, offering envelopes, communion servers….

“Wow,” I thought, “all this because of one Man.” The thought that this was all because of Jesus Christ made me wonder, “What would Jesus think if He were here wandering these aisles with me?” And then it dawned on me that He was wandering these aisles with me because He was in me. I immediately went inside my spirit and started checking to see if I could get a read from Him.

Hmm, it didn’t look good. “What if Jesus were walking these aisles in the flesh, as Jesus? How would these people respond?” I thought for a minute. “Well, if He wasn’t wearing business attire and didn’t have money to spend on their wares, these people wouldn’t give him the time of day! They wouldn’t care a whit about His teaching. These people aren’t here thirsting for Eternal Truth; they’re here to sell things! This is not about solving life’s problems, rescuing lost souls, redeeming the world from the curse, or establishing the Kingdom of Heaven on Earth; this is about business!”

The sad truth of this reality brought me down from the euphoria I had been feeling from the high of meeting people and getting my book out into the big world. But I soon got caught up in the whirlwind of activity again, looking for contacts, talking to people, networking, etc.

Later, back at my hotel room, I was like a kid who’s eaten too many sugary treats, running around at a birthday party past his bedtime. My body was exhausted but my mind was spinning a mile a minute. I tried to pray, but after a while I found myself working the Suduko puzzle from the newspaper. “What the. . . ?” I couldn’t remember making a conscious decision to do that. I tried to pray again, but it was no use. My mind was off in a million directions, there was great oppression on my spirit, and all my body wanted to do was sleep.

I gave up and lay down in bed, letting everything go, and started sinking toward that sweet bliss of dreamland. As I lay there waiting for sleep to overtake me, my mind flitted over the events of the day. I remembered that “What-if-Jesus-were-here?-moment” and in my mind’s eye saw the exhibit hall as if from a crow’s nest perched high above the multitudes thronging the aisles below.

That mental picture was a trigger! The power of God hit me. I snapped awake—the fatigue gone instantly—bolted up in bed, swung my legs over the edge to the floor and began interceding. I was seeing it from God’s perspective and my heart was breaking. All that He had done in sending Jesus to redeem lost mankind, all that it had cost Him, and all that it had cost heaven for the Son to be given up to torture, rejection, humiliation, and finally crucifixion; from sweating the great drops of blood to the loud cries of agony in the garden to that tortured cry on the cross, “My God my God, why hast thou forsaken me?” All that for us, and we respond by turning it into nothing more than a way to make money!

I was crying now, my body racked with great sobs. I kept saying, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” It seemed like the ultimate rejection and humiliation, greater than what they did to Him on the cross. They didn’t know any better then [“Father forgive them, they know not what they do”], but now we know exactly who Jesus was, why He came and what he accomplished. We know all about Him driving the money changers from the temple for turning His Father’s house into a place of merchandise. We know (or we should know) that our very lives, even our next heartbeat, our next breath, both now and for eternity, are utterly dependent on this Jesus and what He did for us. And yet the only thing we really care about is using His Name to make money off His followers! From all that’s gone before we haven’t learned a thing; we keep mindlessly repeating the sins of the fathers in our day.

I fell back on the bed, my body convulsed in agony. My words had turned to gasping cries. The tears streaming from my eyes and all that gunk from my nose were making a mess. I staggered into the bathroom for tissues, blew my nose, and flopped down once more on the bed while the convulsions gradually subsided and the mind-wracking thoughts and visions ceased.

Finally a great peace settled over me and I was lying in the arms of Jesus, resting from the torrent of emotion. I couldn’t change what they were doing to Him. But through prayer—through the intimacy of the Spirit—I could share the sorrow with Him, and that seemed to be enough.

The Rest of the Story

That was July 10, 2007. Eight months later, on March 14, 2008, the first tornado in recorded history to strike downtown Atlanta came barreling in with only 8 minute’s warning.

The tornado passed directly over the massive complex [of the World Congress Center where our tradeshow had been held], doing $100 million in damage to the center.


Roofs were ripped off, water cascaded down stairs and carpets were soaked by a sprinkler system tripped by the weather.


The almost 4 million-square-foot convention center was among downtown buildings most damaged by the … twister.


According to [the] Georgia Insurance Commissioner:… it was the costliest storm in state history.


(Information and quotes taken from Atlanta Journal and Constitution, articles on April 17 and 18, 2008.)

I learned two lessons from this: 1) God always has the last word. 2) We Christians have a wholly inadequate understanding of the fear of the Lord.

Sudden Breakthrough at the Capital

By David Hobbs

Poisonous mood

Last Thursday morning I drove down to the capital to pray, as I have most Thursdays for the past 5 years. But this time I was in a toxic mood. It was probably due mostly to the Holy Spirit pressuring me to fast again for almost the first time in a year. My soul felt like it had enough problems to deal with without adding a 2 day fast to the mix. I drove the hour to Sacramento in stony silence—no singing, no praises, just gloom.

Once there and joined with my prayer partners, the very first thing I heard was that the long anticipated court decision on Obamacare was in and it had been upheld! At that point my already fragile mood collapsed. Whatever life and hope left in me drained away and I sat at the table in angry silence. Black spiritual clouds were hanging over me, terrible thoughts were going through my mind and I was ready to toss it all in and walk away.

“David, how are you doing?” Cindy asked, noticing my bad mood.

“Not good,” was all I could say. I was looking in my Bible for a Psalm to read aloud like Psalm 79:

1 O God, the nations have invaded your inheritance;
they have defiled your holy temple,
they have reduced Jerusalem to rubble.
2 They have given the dead bodies of your servants
as food to the birds of the air,
the flesh of your saints to the beasts of the earth.
3 They have poured out blood like water
all around Jerusalem,
and there is no one to bury the dead.
4 We are objects of reproach to our neighbors,
of scorn and derision to those around us….

Now I can get down like everyone else, but I can’t remember ever getting down like this before. It was the “Mother of all Downers.”

Sudden Breakthrough

About halfway through our hour the door to the committee room opened and who should stick her head in but Shannon Grove, the on-fire Assemblywoman from Bakersfield. Shannon often popped in to pray with us and give us updates on what was happening in the Assembly so we would better know how to pray. But this time was different.

“Hey guys, guess what? There’s a contingent of pastors visiting the capital and they’ve heard about your faithfulness in praying here and want to meet you. Also they’ve got some guitars and we’re going to go out in the open-air atrium on the third floor and worship God. Do you want to come?”

When we got off the elevator at the third floor there was a large crowd of people, who began to come up and greet us and shake our hands. Then Shannon started ushering us down the hall. “Come, come quickly!” I didn’t understand what the rush was but let myself be herded with the others down one hall, then another, then through a door, down a passageway, through another door… “Hurry, hurry, they’re holding it open for us.”

Suddenly I looked up and realized we were on the floor of the Assembly! Now the floor of the Assembly is like the floor of the House of Representatives in Washington—a sacrosanct place where only members and staff are allowed. Visitors need special permission from the Speaker and the Sergeant-at-Arms. But Shannon had somehow worked out a way to get us all out there for a picture taking-session.

Then we trouped over to an office with access to the atrium: a large, fancy, air and light shaft in the middle of the capital building. Soon worship choruses were bouncing off the surrounding walls and wafting up into the three floors of offices that faced the atrium.

Wow! God showed up that day, in response to our prayers. He made an appearance at the capital to show that He’s alive and well in the state of Calif., but also for this lowly sinner whose spirit badly needed a lift!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d_24IdbJ0Tw