I can’t believe he’s dead…

My phone rang this morning, I recognized the number as my husbands. “Hi Hun”, I said. “Hey Babe, he responded. “Someone just stopped by my office to tell me that Jim died this weekend”. “Oh no!” I cried.

My husband had been teaching him a Bible study on his lunch hour at work for a few weeks. We prayed that God would save him. One day he told my husband, “I’m coming to church with you, and I’ll be back the Sunday after that”. We were so excited!!! We had dreams of all the great miracles God would perform in his life. We prayed towards that end. He showed up at our Church early, even before we did. When we saw him we were all smiles.

As we worshipped in this particular service, I glanced in his direction and was excited to see his hands raised in an effort to worship his creator. My praise intensified, I desired to help create an atmosphere in which God could fill him with the Holy Ghost.

I prayed, my husband laid hands on Jim and prayed. Bro. Nicholson (a wonderful visiting missionary) preached a powerful message. But Jim did not receive the Holy Ghost that night, he did not ask to be baptized. He walked away saying it was an interesting service, “but this is not for me”. My heart broke when my husband told me. How could he not feel the love of God reaching out to him. ┬áDeep in my heart I felt it had something to do with the fact that we looked different from each other. After service that night we went out to grab a bite to eat and talked and laughed with Jim.

He really loved my husband, since then he’s been by our home a couple times to drop something off or to express his desire for our sons to play together. But he never surrendered his life to the Lord Jesus.

“He was almost persuaded”, my husband said deeply saddened this morning. “He was almost persuaded”. Jim, we truly loved you and I wish we could have done more to encourage you. I learned a life changing lesson from this very sad situation; Race doesn’t matter to God, and it will never matter to me again either.

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prayer“If my people, which are called by my name, shall humble themselves, and pray, and seek my face, and turn from their wicked ways; then will I hear from heaven, and will forgive their sin, and will heal their land.”

My prayer for the last few weeks has been “God let the spirit of prayer fall on me”. I’m not even sure if there is such a thing as “the spirit of prayer”, but that has been the cry of my heart.

I have been thinking of the great men and women of God who gave themselves to hours of prayer in years past, like: Nona Freeman, Rev. Billy and Shirley Cole, Bobbie Wendell and so much more. Something within me yearns to grab hold of the baton of intercessory and travailing prayer and run like crazy with it.

At one time, I’m ashamed to say, prayer was a chore for me. A job I HAD to do. But God is so merciful, He saw that I was distracted and though I was undeserving, began changing my perspective on prayer. I found myself in company of men and women with a desire to go further in prayer. I heard messages about prayer. In my bible reading time I was encouraged by the prayers made by men and women of God, I saw their results and purposed in my heart that I wanted nothing less for my life.

I look around and I see the GREAT falling away from righteousness in our schools, communities and government. The most compelling however, the thing that brought me to my knees and strengthened my resolve to humble myself, take up my cross and pray, was the popularity of compromise I unfortunately saw spreading among saints of like precious faith. This broke my heart and became the “clarion call” I needed to cry out to God for deliverance. “And except those days should be shortened, there should no flesh be saved: but for the elect’s sake those days shall be shortened.”. (Matt. 24:22)

I’ve heard enough messages on picking up the mantel, holding on to the ancient landmarks, and carrying on the burden of intercessory and travailing prayer. It has finally sunk in. I encourage you my dear reader; accept the challenge, stand in the gap, and P.U.S.H. (Pray until something happens). It’s now or never, we cannot wait for any other sign.

I have now learned that prayer is not a chore, but a privilege and a blessing to boldly approach His throne.┬áMy dear readers, I encourage you to make a change in the atmosphere by toppling the prince of the air, the strong man of your city. It is said that satan trembles when he sees the weakest saint on their knees. With God’s help, we will do it.

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