Pray Them Home

 It's going to be difficult for me to write this. It's extremely hard to write about spiritual things. If you are not a Christian, then you might have trouble even believing a word I say. However, I will try. I told you that a couple of blogs back that I had something to tell you. I just needed time to process. I'm one of those. 

This is what happened to me, this is how I remember it. A few Wednesday nights ago, I was at our church. We have a small group that meets, has dinner together, and then studies the Bible in some fashion. Sometimes a book of the Bible, sometimes a study guide. My heart and mind truly have not been in tune with this, I went though. Mainly because my husband thought we should. I went for him. While there, we share what we call God Moments and also prayer requests. I haven't shared much of anything since Jack died. I was always so afraid of breaking down. But, on this particular Wednesday night, someone asked me how I was doing. I wasn't in a particularly good mood that evening. I just wanted to say, fine, I'm doing fine. I did not, though. 

My worst nightmare happened, and I broke. I started crying and said that I wasn't doing well at all. I told them a couple of things that God had shown me in my own prayer time. I was extremely honest and very vulnerable. I think they were all kind of shocked when I began speaking because I didn't hold back. I mentioned that I had thought it was my fault that Jack died, that I wanted him in heaven no matter what. So God took him home. It was very hard on me emotionally. By the time I got home, I was done. I did not pray that night; I told God I needed a night off. Yes, I do pray every night. That night I talked to God, but I didn't pray. I guess it never dawned on me that that was praying! 

The next day was horrible. I cried on and off all day. I was so angry. But then, something happened. I could feel my friends praying. I sensed God's arms around me. Holding me and telling me that I was going to be OK. Slowly, the vice loosened around my heart. And in one particular instant, I was me again. I was a daughter of the Most High God. And He loved me, and understood all that I had been going through. I continued to pray and thank God, telling Him over and over how thankful and grateful I was. I prayed much of the night. 

Something changed in me that night. Friends prayed, and I could feel those prayers. So God answered them, He heard them, and I was back. So weird, so very strange. And now I had a job, an assignment from God. That night, I heard it loud and clear. I knew instantly what God was telling me to do and began earnestly to pray. Do you want to know what God spoke to me that very night? He said, "Pray them home". How He knew that I knew just who He meant was a little freaky to me. But I knew. People that I loved began to flood my heart and mind, and I think I prayed for hours. I could see them like photographs flying through my brain. Again, so weird. 

That phrase "Pray them home" means so many things. Salvation, growth, healing, trust, love, obedience,  mercy, and on and on. Each person He brought to my mind fell into a category. Even me. So I prayed, and prayed and prayed. The next day, I felt like I was floating on a cloud, as if all was well with the world. But then, of course, I became fearful that maybe it hadn't really happened and that my sadness and hurt would come back. I tiptoed through the day. Hopeful, wishing, praying that God really did heal my broken heart. That's why it took me a few weeks to write about this. I had to make sure it really happened. Some might see this as a lack of trust in God. Maybe it was; however, he was OK with it. That much I know for sure.

To feel God's love for me has completely changed my attitude. I feel lighter, happier, and prayerful. I find myself praying all the time. When I think of someone or run into someone, I pray for them. I don't pretend to know what they're going through, but God knows. Just like He knew about me. He knows. 

I'm excited now. I am praying them home. All those who've wandered away from God, who are in a mess, hurting, and wanting God to show himself to them--I want to tell you something--He will. It's all about timing. It's so simple. He knows when we are ready. He knows our thoughts before we think them. And, when the moment is just right, well, a miracle happens, and we are back.

So know this, if you are a friend, relative, or acquaintance of mine--I am praying you home. And I won't stop until God lets me know that you're OK, too. 

Grandpa Robbie

 I first met him 25 years ago. We began attending a new church after moving to Ohio. We wanted one with a good youth and college-age ministry. One of the first Sundays there, we were asked to turn around and introduce ourselves. He turned around and said, Hi! I’m Robbie, and this is my wife Phyllis. They were very nice, and we then found out that they were the pastor’s parents, visiting from Dayton. A few months later, Robbie’s wife passed away. Sadly, we never saw her again. 

After that, my memories of Robbie were mostly of him driving up to Cleveland in his convertible. He looked so cute. I had always hoped that Robbie would one day meet a pretty lady and remarry. He never did; he was a one-woman man, never to love another. It made me sad; however, I had to accept it. After all, he wasn’t my dad! 

Not too long after meeting Robbie and getting to know him, his only granddaughter met my oldest son. It was love at first sight for them. And just like that, Robbie became part of my family. 

We waited patiently—all of us, the other parents, my daughter-in-law’s parents —for the moment when we would become grandparents. It took a long time, right about 6 or 7 years. Geez, it felt like a long time! However, that day finally arrived, and our little granddaughter was born. I became a grandma, and Grandpa Robbie became a great-grandpa. At that point, he was just Grandpa Robbie to everyone! He also, once again, was tied to our family; he was the great-grandpa of my granddaughter.

Over the years, I watched as our family became more and more integrated, our family to his, his family to ours. Another grandchild was born, so one more tie. Our family to his, his to ours. Generation to generation. We were now bonded to Grandpa Robbie through eternity.

As I pondered this, it dawned on me that because of this one man’s love for his God, we would be entwined throughout all time. Grandpa Robbie was a Christian, as were his sons, his grandchildren, and my son. I think God had a plan. It seems that way to me, anyway. 

I wonder now if that is God’s big plan. One person serves God, and a chain reaction affects all of eternity. That’s almost too much for me to comprehend, all because of one person’s choice to follow God. That is a very heavy thought. And again, I wonder, is my choice affecting my future generations? Have I changed the course of my children’s lives? And, what about their children’s, and so on? Just by serving God, is the future changed?

It seems to me that Grandpa Robbie had a lot of responsibility. I wonder if he knew? I wonder if he ever thought about the day we would all reflect on his life and the prayer he poured into all he encountered along life’s way. I wonder if he knew? I wonder if he thought that, because of his service to God, one day he would bind our family to his? 

And now I wonder—do I have the same responsibility? Do I spend time praying for others? Do I pour into others the way he did? I sure hope so. 

Grandpa Robbie, I say goodbye to you in this life. You have challenged me. And when I see you next, we will sit and reminisce about the way our family became your family and so on. Eternity awaits the rest of us, and in the meantime, you enjoy heaven, we will see you again soon. 

God Answered My Prayer

The day that God answered my prayer. But, first, a little background. I became a Christian (a follower of Jesus) at 6 years old. I’ve written about it before, so I won’t go into detail here. I have served God in every capacity of my life. I still do. As I grew up, aged, and became an adult, I realized something. I was called to pray. Not just a normal person who prays, but someone in the Christian world that we call a prayer warrior and an intercessor. It’s a person who sees something and can’t let it go. It’s a gift or a calling to prayer. All the time, every day. It’s a little hard to explain, but I’ll do my best. An example might be—someone walks into the room, and God says, “See them, pray for them.” And so I do. It’s as simple as that. I’ve been that way since my teenage years and actually thought it happened to every Christian. I found out later that it did not. There are other callings or gifts. I hope I’ve made it simple to understand. 

When I became pregnant with my first child, I did what I believe every Christian mom would do. I laid my hands on my big fat belly, and I prayed over my unborn baby. I prayed hard. I prayed for many things; I wanted her to grow up knowing God and having a relationship with him. It was my most important prayer, along with her being healthy, of course. I did the same prayer for all my pregnancies. And, when I prayed, I prayed the house down! I remember telling God that their relationship with Him was the most important thing to me. 

Now fast forward to grandchildren. I have 9. All received that same type of prayer from me. I prayed the house down. I’m using that expression to express the importance of my prayer. I wanted my grandchildren, all 9 of them, to serve God. Plain and simple, whatever else they did, well, that was up to them. I knew that I knew, they would be the smartest kids on earth, that they'd be the cutest and the best grandkids ever. After all, they were mine. I’m not biased or anything. 

And then one day, my world changed around me. Everything stopped and changed in the blink of an eye. My oldest grandchild was killed in a horrible car accident. I could not fathom God letting this happen. Why did God do this to me, and to my daughter? I could not understand, nor did I want to. I was so devastated and angry with God for not protecting him (did He not hear my prayer?) that I closed myself off from God and stewed in my anger. As the months went on, when I prayed, I prayed in anger. How God, why God, didn’t you hear me, God? This went on for 18 months.

And then one day, while I was crying and missing my grandson, God spoke. As I’ve shared before, I have never heard the audible voice of God. I hear him in my mind.  In the Bible, there is a verse that says, " My children will know my voice”. I know His voice. He spoke. And this is what He said. “I answered your prayers. I heard you and answered you.” And, he began to remind me of those days of laying my hands on my stomach and praying for my babies. He reminded me of rocking my grandchild and praying over them. He reminded me of what I asked for. I began to feel a little sick to my stomach as I asked him what specifically I had asked for that He would take the life of one of my grandchildren? He then reminded me of the many times I had prayed for their relationship with Him, and of all the times I had told God I did not want to go to heaven without them. I would pray—whatever it takes, God, do it, because I want them in heaven. As I sat there stunned, I realized in that moment it was my fault. I prayed for an early death for my very own grandchild. Now, try to wrap your brain around that one!

It took me days of praying, crying, and then coming to terms with the fact that he died that day, so that he would be in heaven when I got there. I would see my grandson again. No doubt in my mind. Now, what I then had to grapple with was the timing. This is what God showed me. My grandson was ready in the very moment of his death to meet God. He might not have had another God moment. This is so hard to explain. I began doing a lot of research in the Bible about God taking people home to be with him, because if He had waited, they would not have been in the right relationship with God. There are many times that God did this, it was to spare them. 

It took me a while to accept this revelation from God. It took me some time to be thankful, to know that my grandson will be there waiting for me and thanking me for praying him home to heaven. What a concept. Praying him home. That was the next thing that God talked to me about. However, I will share that in another blog. I’ve got to let you decide whether you believe this or not. You need to do your own research on the matter. Please do this. It’s important that you run everything that I am writing about through the Bible. As a Christian, this is important to me. God answers prayers. He answered mine, whether I liked the timing or not. His way is and has always been the best way. And I stand on that. On that day, God answered my prayer.