Years ago, I was challenged to seek the Lord, and, then, to write a mission statement for my life…
It came together rather easily as I prayerfully funneled my strengths, spiritual gifts, passions, and
Scripture all the way down to one sentence: to teach, or disciple, women whether through the written or spoken word.
Over the years, it’s been a perfect tool for wholeheartedly giving my best yes to some assignments, and an “I really am honored you asked, but I will have to decline the offer” to others.
I love giving an enthusiastic yes, especially when it comes to talking about Jesus (and the truth of Scripture). I can’t tell you how it thrills my heart to share life lessons, and how the Lord has intervened in HUGE ways FOR ME!
Two years ago, I was approached about speaking at a women’s retreat.
In every way, the request fit my mission statement; and, as a bonus, women’s retreats are one of my favorite things to get to do. As a teacher, I enjoy the study, the research, the putting-of-pieces together to create a series of talks…and, I can’t begin to tell you how many dear friends I’ve made through this kind of venue over the years. Because I am not a vibrant speaker, I definitely shine when I get to build relationship with women over a series of sessions.
Anyway, the answer to this request was an easy YES!
…until the night before I was to leave for this retreat.
That night, two years post-request, I didn’t want to go, which was a first for me ………………….EVER!
I called Bay (who was speaking elsewhere), and told him, I simply didn’t want to go.
I pulled out my journal, wrote out a prayer to the Lord, and told Him I didn’t want to go.
It was easy to explain.
I didn’t feel ready.
The sessions hadn’t come together as easily as normal.
It wasn’t that I didn’t have material – I had a huge folder full of research, notes, stories, illustrations, writings, quotes, and on it went.
It wasn’t that I didn’t feel “prayed up.”
It wasn’t that I dreaded the travel, or that the size might be a bit smaller than anticipated, or that it was going to be uncomfortable in any way…none of that factored into where I was sitting in the moment.
My heart simply didn’t feel fully equipped – prepared; and, I argued, “The women who are coming deserve so much more.”
It seemed that every time I sat to gather my thoughts, to put the pieces into place, to talk with the Lord about the sessions, I got no further than an outline. That outline became a wall, I just couldn’t hurdle over, even though many times, I had prayed (and, preached to myself) David’s words from Psalm 18:29b:
Instead of scaling anything, I seemed to keep slamming into the same wall (I even joked with Jesus about wanting just a small portion of Wonder Woman’s jumping & climbing abilities). My heart wasn’t a pretty picture that night.
Oh, I knew I’d go.
Even if it was a matter of obedience (I sure didn’t want to be like Jonah, and while I didn’t think I’d end up in the belly of a big fish, there are bears in this neck of the woods); but, I went to bed that retreat-eve longing for God’s deliverance, for the purpose of His glory. My prayers had the smell of desperation.
The next morning, I had coffee with a long-time friend, passing through town.
As we talked, it seemed the Lord was giving me clearer thoughts, a sense of expectancy, even some breakthroughs on some direction for each session, and (wonder of all wonders) a sense of excitement for the weekend. God was at work on me, almost last minute, to let go, to give of myself, and to trust Him. As I drove to the retreat, I knew without a shadow of a doubt, I had done my part, and the Lord would be faithful to do His.
The purpose of telling you this story, at the risk of my own vulnerability, is two-fold.
1) I want to testify to the power of prayer.
2) I desire to remind both of us of God’s faithfulness, in spite of ourselves.
No one at this retreat knew of my dilemma. I had enlisted a few in-and-out-of-town-prayer warriors (the beauty of our texting-technology)… BUT, there, at the retreat, a gal, who I would consider an “elder” (not in the sense of age, but of wisdom), under the leading of the Spirit, felt the urgency to pray over me prior to speaking. Every single woman surrounded me, and prayed for the Lord to speak, to shine His face, to bring the Words of Truth that were needed for that weekend. I experienced first-hand these words from the pen of James:
…and God brought healing to my fearful heart, and a powerful sense of His Spirit’s Presence, which is exactly what I needed far more than an organization of material…
I also realized that a huge part of my problem went much deeper. There is within me such a need to be in control…to have all my speaking-ducks-in-a-row. So, to head to a retreat without my ducks lined up was frightening. I confessed my control issues to the Lord, knowing there is a balance somewhere between doing-my-part and leaving everything in God’s more than capable hands:
Do I believe in prayer?
YES!
Do I believe in God’s faithfulness, when we place our trust in Him?
YES!
I am a testimony to this fact:
