“God! I can’t go on like this!” My marriage was a constant wrestling match. We were missionary dorm parents. We had handfuls of dorm children and four boys of our own. I was downright miserable with constant conflict, seething judgmentally over the most recent clash. In this chair on the flat roof of a two-story cement dorm in West Africa, I was desperate for a Holy Ally. As I read through my Bible in Psalms, God highlighted verses to let me know He had a very good relationship with my husband. “Is this my problem then?! I’m trying so hard to please You, God!” Grief drove me to my face, flat on that gravelly ground. “What am I to do?”
“Sign up for listening prayer.”
It sounded like voodoo to me. There were these ladies offering” listening prayer” sessions at the next missionary women’s retreat… “Seriously?”
The Lord had spoken.
A couple weeks later, sitting in a room full of strangers (apart from one lady I knew) the session began. The laughter-filled woman from Canada, with short maple leaf colored hair, was so firmly welcoming. Her friends were playing worship music as we prepared to hear from the Lord. John 10:27 was read to us, “My sheep hear My voice, and I know them, and they follow Me;” and Jeremiah 33:3, “Call to Me, and I will answer you…” We would all spend ten minutes writing down Scriptures, songs, words, or pictures that came to mind for the particular person we were listening to God about. We did not need to know their stories. God knew them.
How many topics or themes are in the Bible? – fifty? a hundred? a thousand? I must have you know not one person spoke while listening and writing. As we took turns sharing aloud, the synergy of each set of messages was supernatural. Also astonishing was the way the unified response locked in with what each person needed. Holy Spirit was gifting us with words of knowledge, words of wisdom, words of life, one to another. We were so hungry for Jesus to speak, lead, guide, help, and heal. We sensed His presence.
When my turn came, I was still wallowing in the freakish misery of failing my family with frequent fits of frustration. I thought I wanted God to hit my head with a baseball bat. I needed punishment for the trouble I was causing. I imagined the scene in Castaway where Tom Hanks, as Chuck Noland, beaten up and bedraggled, languishes nearly naked on the deserted island with a rotten tooth. In a fearsome move, he forces it out with an ice skate blade. I needed that kind of relief! I didn’t care how awful it was going to hurt.
How incorrectly I had envisioned what would occur! “Waste time with Me,” Jesus instructed. “Be with Me each day in REST.” “You are beautiful, and I love you.” He affirmed. I sat in awe and sobbed. A waterfall of heavenly refreshment bathed my wounds. Wow!
I have a dream that all who suffer could call or text and find themselves surrounded by a prayer huddle of godly believers listening to the Holy Spirit of Jesus Christ sent from God the Father, for strengthening, encouragement, and comfort. 1 Corinthians 14:3 “But one who prophesies (tells forth Divine counsel) speaks to men for edification and exhortation and consolation.” (NAS95) In bearing one another’s burdens with the wisdom of God from His Word, we grow strong and confident in faith, able to trust Him and obey.