By David Hobbs
(Events took place Feb. 9-10, 2009)
(Please read previous post first)
The next day, Monday, in spite of my memories of the wonderful service, nothing went easy. I spent a large part of the morning on the phone to the DSL guy from AT&T and my own IT guy trying to get my laptop connected back to the internet. It was my first day of fasting, which is usually the hardest. Nothing about the day was easy or pleasant. But that’s often the way it is in the spiritual walk—mountaintops are followed by valleys and we have to learn to take them in stride.
By Tuesday morning I felt I was ready to get up early and go out to the church early again to pray. It was cold inside as well as outside. I never took my jacket off. The spirit was heavy at first, full of the weight of God’s glory and incredible holiness. It was all I could do to whisper (even in the deserted church) and kneel quietly.
After awhile however, I felt if I didn’t get more active I might give Satan an opening to either put me to sleep or play with my mind. (Because the spirit and the body are connected, if the body gets too slow it can pull the spirit down.) So I began to walk and sing. A song popped into my mind we hadn’t sung in years:
The next day, Monday, in spite of my memories of the wonderful service, nothing went easy. I spent a large part of the morning on the phone to the DSL guy from AT&T and my own IT guy trying to get my laptop connected back to the internet. It was my first day of fasting, which is usually the hardest. Nothing about the day was easy or pleasant. But that’s often the way it is in the spiritual walk—mountaintops are followed by valleys and we have to learn to take them in stride.
By Tuesday morning I felt I was ready to get up early and go out to the church early again to pray. It was cold inside as well as outside. I never took my jacket off. The spirit was heavy at first, full of the weight of God’s glory and incredible holiness. It was all I could do to whisper (even in the deserted church) and kneel quietly.
After awhile however, I felt if I didn’t get more active I might give Satan an opening to either put me to sleep or play with my mind. (Because the spirit and the body are connected, if the body gets too slow it can pull the spirit down.) So I began to walk and sing. A song popped into my mind we hadn’t sung in years:
“Lord I want to tread a path to You.
I want to know You better than I do.
I Want to hear Your voice today in a clearer way;
Lord I want to tread a path that leads to You” (repeat).
And then the bridge, “I want to tread a path, that will last; tread a path that leads to You” (repeat).
Soon I was belting it out with all my heart because it was exactly what I did want. I didn’t want to just walk through life. I wanted every step to bring me closer to Him. And I did want to hear His voice more clearly. And today, not some far off time in the future.
Soon my hour and a half at the church was over. There was only time to heat up some leftover coffee in the kitchen and head to Cheryl’s for the morning prayer meeting.
At Cheryl’s the Holy Spirit came again like Sunday night at the praise service. We were praying about portals and the Holy Spirit showed me that I was a portal. There was no getting around it. He had made me a portal already and I didn’t have to ask for it. My part came in choosing what I would be a portal to. I could be a portal to hell and let it flood through me to pollute the earth (and I remembered many times when I had allowed that to happen, and flooded the earth with anger, rage, criticism, doubt, or any number of other hellish spirits); or I could choose to be a portal of heaven and allow the Holy Spirit to flood through me into the earth. Either way I was a portal and could not help be anything but.
Strangely, the angst at the revelation of the many times I had been a portal of hell was more than offset by the revelation that I was a portal and nothing could ever change it. To that my spirit soared. Now, armed with that knowledge, it should be fairly easy to say “no” to hell and “yes” to the Holy Spirit. I was a portal! I was a portal!
The prayer meeting kept going and people took turns praying out. I sang the song the Lord had given me earlier and the Holy Spirit began to zap us. We were all standing holding hands in a circle. I had Cheryl’s hand on my left and my friend Terri’s hand on my right. My spirit was so lightened by the revelation of my portal-ship that I started laughing which others picked up on. Soon about half of us were chuckling or laughing.
Then the prayers turned from portals to lightning rods. I saw our group, which had prayed together for 2 ½ years, as the inner hub of a wheel, like a wagon wheel or chariot wheel. As others were drawn to us wanting more of the Holy Spirit in their lives, they were like spokes from the outer wheel plugging into us in the inner wheel. But as they made contact, lightning shot from heaven into us (because we were lightning rods and open portals), zapped right through us into them, then continued to travel through them out into the world. I immediately thought of Jesus and the woman with the issue of blood who came up to Him in the crowd and touched the hem of His garment. As soon as she touched Him, though He didn’t see or feel her, a surge of power shot through Him from heaven into her. Jesus was the great lightning rod from heaven! That’s what got Jesus’ attention: He felt the burst of power through Him which was strong enough to heal her instantly.
By this time I was so overcome it was hard to stand, so I went to my knees still holding hands with Cheryl and Terri. I was laughing and shouting praises as were the others. Both Cheryl and Terri were getting zapped by the Holy Spirit, which they indicated by shouting out and doubling over. I could literally feel the current pass through my body from one of them to the other.
Soon my hour and a half at the church was over. There was only time to heat up some leftover coffee in the kitchen and head to Cheryl’s for the morning prayer meeting.
At Cheryl’s the Holy Spirit came again like Sunday night at the praise service. We were praying about portals and the Holy Spirit showed me that I was a portal. There was no getting around it. He had made me a portal already and I didn’t have to ask for it. My part came in choosing what I would be a portal to. I could be a portal to hell and let it flood through me to pollute the earth (and I remembered many times when I had allowed that to happen, and flooded the earth with anger, rage, criticism, doubt, or any number of other hellish spirits); or I could choose to be a portal of heaven and allow the Holy Spirit to flood through me into the earth. Either way I was a portal and could not help be anything but.
Strangely, the angst at the revelation of the many times I had been a portal of hell was more than offset by the revelation that I was a portal and nothing could ever change it. To that my spirit soared. Now, armed with that knowledge, it should be fairly easy to say “no” to hell and “yes” to the Holy Spirit. I was a portal! I was a portal!
The prayer meeting kept going and people took turns praying out. I sang the song the Lord had given me earlier and the Holy Spirit began to zap us. We were all standing holding hands in a circle. I had Cheryl’s hand on my left and my friend Terri’s hand on my right. My spirit was so lightened by the revelation of my portal-ship that I started laughing which others picked up on. Soon about half of us were chuckling or laughing.
Then the prayers turned from portals to lightning rods. I saw our group, which had prayed together for 2 ½ years, as the inner hub of a wheel, like a wagon wheel or chariot wheel. As others were drawn to us wanting more of the Holy Spirit in their lives, they were like spokes from the outer wheel plugging into us in the inner wheel. But as they made contact, lightning shot from heaven into us (because we were lightning rods and open portals), zapped right through us into them, then continued to travel through them out into the world. I immediately thought of Jesus and the woman with the issue of blood who came up to Him in the crowd and touched the hem of His garment. As soon as she touched Him, though He didn’t see or feel her, a surge of power shot through Him from heaven into her. Jesus was the great lightning rod from heaven! That’s what got Jesus’ attention: He felt the burst of power through Him which was strong enough to heal her instantly.
By this time I was so overcome it was hard to stand, so I went to my knees still holding hands with Cheryl and Terri. I was laughing and shouting praises as were the others. Both Cheryl and Terri were getting zapped by the Holy Spirit, which they indicated by shouting out and doubling over. I could literally feel the current pass through my body from one of them to the other.
So there you have it, parts of three days in the prayer life of a believer. Is this the normal life and experience of a Christian? Would to God it was!
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