Giving in to God

January 22, 2014

This has been an interesting week, so far. Sunday morning, before the sermon at Crossroads of Arlington began, as we were worshipping, I went and lit a candle, began to pray and was led to just tell God that I wanted to lay everything down and let him have it. It was such a strong leading, that when the sermon began, and Joe went along, coming to the invitation to approach the altar and lay our burdens down, or give up something (using rocks as symbols) I was shocked. Man, he was reading my mind.

I was actually frozen at that point. I knew right then that God had indeed heard me. I knew He was right there with me. He was working on me. I could never imagine what He would do next, though.

Forward to Tuesday night's prayer and worship. I was again led to the cross to sit and speak with God. I was sitting, praying, again that He would unburden me from the things I carry with me when I noticed a hole in the cross. I glanced across and saw another, then down and another. I was seeing the holes where the nails had anchored Christ to the cross. Fixated on those holes, I suddenly realized, seemingly for the first time, exactly what Christ really suffered for me. I felt guilty, indicted, dirty, you name it. I realized my selfishness; how I let my petty, little problems rise up to a level that I had made seem greater than the pain and suffering He went through. 

It was then that it struck me. I was not just letting my anger, disappointments, bitterness and fears fester inside of me, I had created a shell; an outer wall; a fake persona. I prayed, hard, then softly, then honestly. I prayed that God would break the casing surrounding me and release the person He had created. 

It seemed, in that moment, as the worship team sang softly, and the murmured prayers of those behind me lifted up, that God touched that shell and shattered it, releasing me. So many things felt like they just slipped off of me right there.

That should be enough, but God was not finished yet. I went back to my seat, sat and sang and prayed, and basked in what I thought had been an awesome experience. Except that He was not done. My head bowed, eyes closed, I was in my own world, when a hand touched my shoulder; it was Gene-O, and he was praying over me. He prayed what I had been praying, for some time, that God would release me and work through me, that whatever was standing in the way be removed. He prayed that my wife, Carmele, would be strengthened to contine walking along side of me on this path He has set us on. It surprised me so that I actually asked him how he knew I had been praying for all of these things? He said God told him to come and pray for me. You get that? He said God told him to come and pray for me.

God knew what I needed. He knew when I needed it. He knew how to respond to me. God spoke to me this week. He used many things to form those words: my own actions, the cross, the worship team, others hands, and prayer - powerful prayer.

What is next? Not sure, other than more prayer. I know that He sees and hears me.  I know that He recognizes what burdens me and what brings fear into me. I also know that, even though I should not be, I am amazed when He acts on my behalf. So I will continue praying hard, and softly, and honestly, worshipping Him, understanding that the things I build up myself are only hindrances to what God has in mind for me.

Amen!