Showing Up
I am involved with a couple of prayer groups that are
dedicated to praying for Oregon. I recently began filling in as moderator for
one that is a call-in/zoom meeting. We begin about half an hour before prayer
time to chat and catch up, and this week I thought nobody was going to join me.
At the last minute two dialed in (Whew! Thanks guys!) and we had our prayer
time.
During that lonely half-hour I was thinking about the
role of intercessors, of what it takes to “stand in the gap.”
I have a friend, Joanna, whom I meet for breakfast every
Tuesday. After breakfast she rides with me to our church where she joins the
Tuesday morning prayer meeting and I (who used to be the bookkeeper) help count
the offerings. Joanna, at 92, is only a few years younger than my late mother. Her
personality reminds me a little of my grandmother, but she feels like a peer. Not
too long ago I helped her publish her memoir, “My First 90 Years.”
This past week we learned, just as we were leaving the
café, that the prayer meeting had been cancelled, but Joanna opted to go with
me to the church anyway. When asked if she wanted the sanctuary lights on while
she prayed, she declined, and me and my co-counter retired to the church
office. My definition of an intercessor is Joanna alone in the dark sanctuary
with her prayer list.
About twenty years ago my son, Jeff, had a ministry
while he was still in high school. With a small group of like-minded teenage
boys, he began holding services in the local parks, using the group’s musical
talents to attract crowds. For about two years, using our home as a base, they
led an astonishing number of teens to the Lord and were supported by the local
ministerial association. At one point, having attended some huge Christian
concerts, they decided to hold a Christian music concert in a local field owned
by one of the churches. We poured ourselves into organizing that concert, contacting
local Christian bands, holding a can drive to raise funds, hiring a
professional sound man. The stage was two flatbed trailers they borrowed from
somewhere. When the big day came, we quickly realized there was one error: the
opening time was set too early and for a few hours my son played his guitar to
an empty field - except for two elementary-age (and very enthusiastic) little boys.
I won’t mention
how it felt to watch him alone on the stage with his guitar while anxious band
members milled around waiting for a crowd to show up. At one point Jeff took a
break and motioned me over.
“What am I going to do, Mom?”
All I could think to tell him was a story a preacher
told of holding evangelistic meetings where, for the first two weeks, only one
old woman showed up. He preached every service to her anyway, and eventually people
were drawn to the meetings.
I went back to
my post at the concession stand and prayed. As the afternoon wore on, folks
began to trickle in. And then a miracle occurred: a church bus from a nearby
town pulled up, and then another.... By ten that night, as the showcase band was
doing their grand finale, the police showed up to warn us there were noise
complaints and we needed to wrap things up. That, of course, certified the
concert as a success.
My friend praying alone in a dark, empty sanctuary; my
son playing worship music to an empty field; the evangelist preaching to a
congregation of one – these are my heroes, and I believe God honors those who
simply obey, who do His will and trust Him with the results. As prayer
warriors, sometimes the bravest thing we do is just show up.
Anyone interested in joining the 24/7 Strategic
Prayer for Oregon, message me and we will add your name to the email list.
We meet Friday at 12:00 via Zoom.
Warriors for Christ
is also an Oregon prayer ministry, a Facebook group. Join here:
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