Category Archives: Prayer

Prayers for America (2/2/2017)

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I have just finished reading Waterloo: The History of Four Days, Three Armies, and Three Battles by Bernard Cornwell. It was an eyeopening book.

As most of us realize, the Battle of Waterloo was a history changing battle for all of Western Civilization. Its biggest consequence was that most of our nations ended up being republics and democracies rather than empires and dictatorships.

Yet, the battle itself was marked by terrible mistakes by both France and Great Britain and its allies. Any of these mistakes could have made the difference in the battle if they had not occurred.

For instance, the Duke of Wellington overlooked France’s advance on British lines. Because of this, he and his staff attended a ball the night before the battle in Brussels. Many of these men fought the next day in their dancing sandals and their best outfits instead of boots and soldiers’ uniforms.

Napoleon, on the other hand, could have kept on marching right through the British lines while Wellington was dancing, but stopped for the night. He then delayed his battle plans the next morning for over four hours because the ground was wet. This delay allowed the Prussians to arrive on the scene later in the day to help gain the victory for the allies.

Also, Napoleon’s orders to his generals were so garbled that his leaders failed to act in a timely fashion. Each of his two top leaders could have turned the tide for the French if they had understood the orders.

But one thing the Duke of Wellington did do: he stayed with his strength, which was a defensive strategy. He knew Napoleon was an offensive strategist. So, he waited at the top of a ridge, forcing the French to attack across a wet, soggy field and then up a hill into his strength.

When Napoleon sent his best soldiers – the Old Guard – into the battle. The unbeaten French soldiers marched up to the top of the ridge to face a disastrous surprise. Wellington had kept his best soldiers hidden behind the ridge, lying on the ground, and out of sight. The British soldiers rose up when the French were 25-30 paces away and fired volley after volley into the French soldiers. It turned into a slaughter and the French fled the battlefield.

“A plan seldom survives first contact with the enemy. A plan is basically good intentions. The key question is not ‘Do you have a plan?’ The question is ‘…Can you take the plan and adapt it to the situation on the ground, no matter the situation?’ (Excerpt from Planning + Preparation = Survival by Larry Nevenhoven, © 2013, Amazon eBook)

Like Great Britain and its allies at the Battle of Waterloo, America and its leaders will make errors, some of them big ones, but we need to hold on to our strength in the days ahead, which is God.

My prayer today:

Lord, help us American believers to humble ourselves and pray and seek Your face and turn from our wicked ways so that You will hear from heaven, forgive our sins, and heal our land. (Based on 2 Chronicles 7:14)

What do you think and has the Lord spoken to you today?

Join with me on Thursdays to fast and pray for America.

 

 

 

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Geezer Up (Part 6)

Jane

My wife, Jane, can best explain what was going through her mind from the time of my phone call until the arraignment:

The first thought to cross my mind when Dylan phoned was to give him a big piece of my mind. We had planned our forty-eighth anniversary trip to Tahoe for months and even paid a nonrefundable deposit on a five-bedroom home on the beach. Our three children, their mates, and our eight grandchildren were going to be there, too. All of us in one home on the lake for seven days. It was a dream vacation and how many more of these could we expect to have in the years ahead? I could have chewed nails when I hung up, especially after him saying that it was no big deal!

I slammed the phone down and screamed.

That’s when the Holy Spirit spoke to my heart, “Quit acting like a baby. Call the lawyer. Get on a plane and fly to San Francisco. Dylan needs you.”

I fell to my knees and wept.

“Forgive me, Lord.”

But without missing a beat, I jumped up, phoned Jacob, our lawyer, and made a standby reservation for a flight on Virgin Airlines out of San Diego International Airport to San Francisco. My flight’s departure was scheduled for 6:15 a.m., which gave me just enough time to pack and make the sixty-mile drive from Temecula to the airport.

Bluetooth allowed me to make four important phone calls on my trip. The first three were to our children, telling them about Dylan’s situation. The words “hate crime” never ricocheted off my tongue, but instead I termed it a slight misunderstanding, one that a lawyer could easily handle. We would see them on Saturday and have a big laugh over Dylan’s latest faith escapade. The three had questions, but I pooh-poohed their fears with a couple of quick Bible verses.

When I finished calling the three, I looked down at the speedometer. Ninety miles per hour! Jane Matthews: beloved wife, caring mother, doting grandmother, and committed believer of Jesus was acting like Mario Andretti at the Indianapolis Five Hundred, passing every car in sight. I tapped on the brakes and slowed down to seventy-five miles per hour. A police car with a radar gun sat at the next exit.

“Thank you Jesus,” I muttered.

Then, I phoned J.C. Bates. Someone needed to fill me in on the details about Dylan’s arrest and J. C. was the man who could do just that.

(A new sequel to Unhitched Geeser, which can be checked out here.)

(Continued in Part 7…the first 9 parts are reruns and can be read here.)

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Prayers for Healing and Deliverance (1/31/2017)

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“*Emily, if you come to the meeting tonight, the Lord will heal you,” I said into the phone.

This phone call occurred twenty-eight years ago while I was doing some teaching at a small home group. I was an office supply salesman and felt the Lord was going to heal Emily of multiple sclerosis. So, I phoned her that afternoon.

Later, she hobbled into the meeting, using a cane to steady herself. She sat down on the sofa. The other four or five attendees sat down near her.

I opened with prayer and then taught a lesson from the Bible. As I finished speaking, I looked over at Emily and saw her with my spiritual eyes. She was totally healed.

I put my Bible down and walked over to her. I reached out my hands and said, “Emily, let’s dance.”

She took my hands and stood up. We then danced all over the living room. I stopped after a few minutes and asked, “Have you noticed anything?”

“No, what?” she said.

“You’re healed.”

She put her hands to her mouth. “Oh Lord, I’m healed,” she said through tears.

Emily walked home that night with the cane over her shoulder. The next day she joined a health club and began working out. Everyone in the city was talking about her miracle.

But sadly, forty days later, she was worse off than when she first arrived at the meeting that evening.

What happened?

She lost her healing.

How?

The multiple sclerosis symptoms starting attacking her body again, which caused her to react in fear and doubt rather than using her faith and trust in the Lord to resist the sickness. The sickness overwhelmed her.

Looking back, I feel it was my lack of experience that I did not take the time to teach her and follow up to help her fight the good fight of faith.

(*Emily: not her real name.)

My prayer today:

Lord, help us to learn how to submit to You and resist the devil so that he will flee from us. (Based on James 4:7)

Join with me on Tuesdays to fast and pray for new revelations on healing and deliverance for Americans NOW.

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Geezer Up (Part 5)

“The People of San Francisco against Dylan Matthews,” announced the heavy-set bailiff in a booming voice. He walked over and handed the case file to a clerk.

Almost with a snap of a finger, I stood to the right of Artie Chin while a junior prosecutor with sad eyes stood on the other side of Chin. Judge Esther Strong sat directly in front of us. The fifty or so year old judge looked down at the file in front of her and then over at me. A slight smile crossed her deep red lips for a nano-second before she resumed her judicial posture.

The prosecutor opened with a legal sounding statement. Chin countered with his defense lawyerly jargon. Back and forth the two fired legalese-laced salvos until Chin ended by saying, “My client enters a not-guilty plea.”

Judge Strong closed the file and turned to dismiss us, but then she stopped. She leaned forward and stared into my eyes.

“I’m inclined to allow Mr. Matthews to be released on his own recognizance, without bail, but I do want to ask him a couple of questions first,” she said, pausing to collect her thoughts. “What will you do if I set you free this morning? Will you go back to Temecula and return for your hearing in two weeks?”

Three possible answers crossed my mind at that moment: forty-eighth anniversary trip to Tahoe, playing with my grandchildren, or enjoying a few rounds of golf with some buddies. All would have pleased the judge so I could have walked out the door into the sunlight once again, but they all evaporated into nothingness. What then came out of my mouth caused a reaction like dropping a live grenade into the courtroom.

“I will walk out the door and go directly to the Castro District and preach the gospel of Jesus Christ to that community. They deserve to be set free from the kingdom of darkness by the love of Jesus.”

Judge Strong jumped to her feet. A finger jutted out of her black robe and pointed at me. Anger stripped the judge of her judicial mask, revealing her true inner feelings.

“Mr. Matthews, you have no right to impose your self-righteous religious beliefs on our gay and lesbian communities. I will make sure your bigoted beliefs cost you dearly by setting your bail at one hundred thousand dollars and remanding you to the county jail. What do you think of that, Mr. Matthews?” she proclaimed loud enough for everyone in the building to hear her.

I shrugged.

“I shall not pay one dime nor allow anyone to raise money to set me free nor will I eat another bite of food until I am set free from this jail. Whether I walk out the door or am carried out in a casket is up to the Lord, I shall trust Him to set me free,” I replied.

“Well, we’ll see about your so-called God and how your arrogance holds up two weeks from now at your preliminary hearing. Next case.”

My lawyer resumed his normal breathing as he escorted me back to the small holding pen.

“Maybe you would have answered differently if I would have warned you ahead of time that Judge Strong is a lesbian and staunch leader in the LGBT movement,” he whispered.

I laughed.

“Probably not.”

Then, a voice from the courtroom cut my heart.

“Dylan, Dylan, I love you…”

I turned to see Jane waving at me. She looked great in her yellow dress, one of my favorites, but all I could do was nod my head and wonder about what she was thinking.

(A new sequel to Unhitched Geeser, which can be checked out here.)

(Continued in Part 6…the first 9 parts are reruns and can be read here.)

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Geezer Up (Part 4)

 

If someone would have asked me, “What do you want for your last meal?” It would not have been soggy cornflakes, warm milk, and awful tasting coffee, which I ate for breakfast that morning. Sugar helped me endure the blitzkrieg against my taste buds, but my stomach demanded the calories to halt its rumbling sounds. At the time, it was a dismal meal, but in the days ahead, I looked back on it as a pleasant repast. It’s funny how hunger can distort one’s memories.

Forty-five minutes later, the jailer stood in front of the holding cell with a clipboard in his hand. “Listen up men,” he said, looking down. “Ramos, Soto, Delgado, Valdez, Trujillo, and Matthews − you are in the first group to be taken to the courtroom. Your arraignments will begin at 9 a.m. If you have a lawyer, he will meet you there. If you don’t, a court appointed lawyer will handle your arraignment.”

He spun around and walked away.

I did my best to wash my face and clean up in the sink, but there was no mirror to help me in this task. I looked at the others in the holding cell and figured I looked better than some and worse than others. Oh well, I thought, this is as good as it gets for me today.

 

Two deputies guarded us as we walked over to the courtroom’s small holding cell. I sat down with the five homies on a metal bench and faced the empty courtroom. The clock on the back wall read − 8:34.

“Matthews.”

I looked up and saw a man wearing a dark suit and white shirt standing in front of the cell. He had short black hair and seemed to be of Chinese or Korean heritage. He motioned for me to come near him.

“I’m Artie Chin. Your lawyer, Jacob, referred me to you,” he whispered.

“Thanks,” I replied.

“You are charged with a hate crime for preaching to gays. This is a new law enacted by the San Francisco City Council and went into effect one week ago, just in time for Pride Week. The good news for you is that you are the worst possible test case for the law −”

“Why?”

He blew out a deep breath.

“You’re a retired seventy-three year old man, not an ordained preacher, have no ministry, and have no history of preaching or writing against gays. They’re after bigger fish than you.”

“Okay, what do you think I should do?”

“I’m sure you will be released on personal recognizance. No bail required. You will have to promise to show up in court a couple of weeks from now, but I think I can get the charges dropped altogether. The judge may ask some questions, but probably not. You should be a free man in about sixty minutes.”

His words would have encouraged me if the Holy Spirit had not spoken to me a few hours earlier. So, I prepared myself for bad news.

(A new sequel to Unhitched Geeser, which can be checked out here.)

(Continued in Part 5…the first 9 parts are reruns and can be read here.)

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Geezer Up (Part 3)

 

The afternoon turned into evening and the evening into night. Fourteen people joined us in the holding cell. The newcomers forced me to make a decision between sitting with tattoo-covered murderers or with vomiting drunks and strung-out druggies. I chose the five MS-13 homies and behaved myself.

Do you remember how bad school lunches tasted when you were in first grade? Dry bread, chalky-tasting peanut butter sandwiches, and soggy potato chips served with stewed prunes and a dollop of day-old whipped cream. All of it ladled out on a yellow compartment tray.

Well, let me tell you, my first bite into the peanut butter sandwich made me yearn for the good old days of first grade. I gagged and spit up a mouthful into a napkin.

“Hey, old white man, about three in the morning, you’ll be wishing you ate this garbage,” said the youth with the teardrops tattooed under his eyes.

I shook my head and offered my tray to him. He took it and consumed both his and mine. I admired how he and his friends adapted to their situations without so much as a single complaint. I supposed being in jail was just a normal part of their lives.

But the smell!

Nineteen guys in a ten by twenty room with vomit, diarrhea, normal toilet usage, and BO swirling around us without a fan to alleviate the stench. My poor stomach tried its best to unload itself, but somehow everything remained below deck. Steady as she goes, I thought to myself in a moment of humor, which quickly passed.

And sleeping!

If I leaned back, my back hurt because of the iron bars, but leaning forward moved my nose closer to the vomit and diarrhea on the floor. I compromised by slouching down like an old sweater midway between both positions. I dozed a little here and there throughout the night, but around 3 a.m., I had a vision.

In it, I was seated high above the city of San Francisco, maybe even in the heavenly places, which are mentioned in the Bible. I heard the Holy Spirit speak to my heart, “I am going to use your time in jail as an opportunity to take on the spirit of depravity, which is the main principality governing San Francisco. Be bold and allow me to speak through you. I will give you more than enough grace for this season of your life.”

I then fell into a deep sleep, comforted by the gift of faith, which enveloped me like a warm quilt.

(A new sequel to Unhitched Geeser, which can be checked out here.)

(Continued in Part 4…the first 9 parts are reruns and can be read here.)

 

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Prayers for America (1/26/2017)

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Right now, the American Church is divided by theology, race, politics, gender, abortion, Jew, Gentile, gay issues, and so forth. How can unity be achieved in the Body of Christ?

Lets check how Jesus handled divisions in His day between the Pharisees, Sadducees, Scribes, Essenes, Herodians, Hellenistic believers, and others:

 “Do not think that I have come to bring peace to the earth. I have not come to bring peace, but a sword. For I have come to set a man against his father, and a daughter against her mother, and a daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law. And a person’s enemies will be those of his own household. Whoever loves father or mother more than Me is not worthy of Me, and whoever loves son or daughter more than Me is not worthy of Me.” (Matthew 10:34-37)

The Prince of Peace did not show up with a guitar to sing Kumbaya and talk about unity and peace at campfire meetings. He came with a word that was sharper than any two-edged sword, cutting between soul and spirit. People then had to make decisions and sometimes most of them walked away and followed Him no more.

So, don’t go thinking the American Church will undergo a great revival and everyone will be changed into a vessel of love. It won’t happen! But what we can expect to see are more shakings and more siftings in the American Church in the months and years ahead.

My prayer today:

Lord, help America believers to deny ourselves, pick up our crosses daily, and follow You, no matter what it may cost us. (Based on Mark 8:34)

What do you think and has the Lord spoken to you today?

Join with me on Thursdays to fast and pray for America.

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Geezer Up (Part 2)

 Any syrupy ideas I might have had about jail were erased when the door banged shut to my holding cell. The five young men who sat on the bolted down metal benches, which lined both sides of the cell, followed me with their dark eyes as I sat down in the far right corner. A stainless steel toilet without a lid stood next to a small sink in the middle of the back wall. No privacy here, I thought.

“Hey, old white man, what terrible crime have you committed that the police would lock you up with five MS-13 homies charged with murder?” asked a young man covered with tattoos and wearing a white tank top.

My ears perked up with the mention of MS-13, also known as the Mara Salvatrucha. It’s the most violent gang in the United States with its members known for their cruel murders and merciless revenge.

“I preached the gospel of Jesus Christ to the LGBT parade watchers down in the Castro District. Some became angry and kicked me around like an old football. I was charged with a hate crime.”

“Did you fight back, old man?” asked a short young man with teardrops tattooed under both eyes.

“No, of course, not,” I replied.

The five laughed and slapped each other on the back as if my words were the funniest ones ever spoken.

“Old man, that is hilarious!” said the biggest youth with a large scar on his neck. “You preach the gospel to gays and lesbians. Then they beat and kick the crap out of you, but you don’t fight back. And you’re the one who gets charged with a hate crime. We MS-13 homies understand that type of justice. So, what happened to the gays who did this to you?”

I rubbed my baldhead and shrugged. “I don’t know, but I pray that God won’t hold their actions against them.”

The same youth leaned toward me. “Do you really think God cares about gays and lesbians?”

“Yes, and not only that, He cares and loves you, too.”

“Old white man, now you’ve gone too far.”

The five leaned back and closed their eyes, ignoring my presence.

I sat there, checking myself out. My broken nose hurt. My ribs were sore and all of the other bruises added to my suffering. Blood covered the front of my blue oxford shirt and khaki slacks. Yet, in the midst of my pain and bloody clothing, I wanted to jump and shout and praise God because He counted me worthy to suffer for His name.

“Lord,” I prayed softly, “thanks for giving a seventy-three year old geezer, like me, a second chance to be a part of the action and not allowing me to retire from Your kingdom work. And Lord, use me even more in the days ahead.”

The Lord reminded me of this prayer often in the days following it.

(A new sequel to Unhitched Geeser, which can be checked out here.)

(Continued in Part 3…the first 9 parts are reruns and can be read here.)

 

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Prayers for Healing and Deliverance (1/24/2017)

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The first person I prayed for healing was one of my favorite aunts who was suffering from cancer. I was so positive that the Lord would answer my prayers, but yet she died a few weeks later.

Her death jolted my faith.

At the time, I had been saved for about four months and had been listening to Kenneth Hagin and other Word of Faith teachers. So, I assumed my faith was good enough to move mountains and heal cancer, but it wasn’t!

I ended up driving by myself from Iowa to northern Illinois to attend my aunt’s funeral. On the two-hour trip, the Lord encouraged me to keep on growing, studying, and trusting Him. AND to keep on praying for the sick whenever I had the chance.

This took place almost thirty-one years ago. I still remember the agony I felt in the car, the tears I shed, the failure facing me, and the decision I had to make — whether to keep on praying for healing of the sick or to join the Christian naysayers on the sidelines.

I decided to trust God:

And these signs will accompany those who believe: in My name they will cast out demons; they will speak in new tongues; they will pick up serpents with their hands; and if they drink any deadly poison, it will not hurt them; they will lay their hands on the sick, and they will recover. (Mark 16:15-16)

Over the years, I have seen a few miracles and many deaths, but I know this one thing to be true. At some point, heaven will pour out a greater anointing upon believers and death will be forced to let go of its grip on the people we pray for.

My prayer for today:

Lord, help us believers to honor Your word and promises as much as You do. (Based on Psalm 138:2)

Join with me on Tuesdays to fast and pray for new revelations on healing and deliverance for Americans NOW.

 

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Inside Israel

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The Shuk in Jerusalem

Once again, it’s time to hear from our sister in Jerusalem about what she is witnessing there as a believer in Yeshua. Put your prayer shawls on and pray for Israel and Sister J. Now here she is —

Greetings dear brothers and sisters,

May The Lord, The One True God, The Creator of heaven and earth, and His only begotten Son, Messiah Yeshua, Jesus Christ Who IS God, be blessed and glorified and may you be edified and blessed in Him by the power of His Holy Spirit.

God surely answers prayer!  WONDERFULLY He glorifies His Name:  He will not be mocked And it never grows old, seeing His Hand move in such evident, direct answers to prayer!

I am able to write right now because I CAN’T be at the IFI prayer conference except for the mornings that I don’t work, and I am LONGING to write because I was BLESSED to be able to attend yesterday morning.  The morning sessions at the conference are WORK and my favorite part.  They are given to active, directed prayer.  Once again, hats off to you British prayer warriors.  Not only did you see your answers in the Brexit move, but to the surprise of the participants in the peace gathering at Paris France, Britain boldly stood up and refused to sign the statement presented to the 72 nations participating.  Wow!  The Balkan states followed her lead.  It was dramatic…unexpected and prayed for. There is no doubt that God is on the move amongst the nations. Also my American praying friends and a number of you from other countries are seeing some history turning answers to prayer.  Is this like Nineveh?  A repentance that was acceptable?

Mid morning yesterday we heard a fine-tuned and impassioned plea for prayer concerning E.U. elections that were to take place throughout the day with a clear explanation of the background.  The plea was for the life of the nations – with a heart much like Jeremiah’s – we were called to pray for the fear of God that the nations would not be cursed through the voting in of governments that would curse Israel.  Fine-tuned and sharpened would be how I would describe the calls.  I was honored to be there and to pray among polished prayers.  I wish I could attend all week.

After a fashion, YOU CAN BE. 

We were told that from the website  – Intercessors for Israel –  you can listen to the evening presentations (background and preparation for prayer)  for free and that they can be downloaded, also for free.  PLEASE AVAIL YOURSELF OF THIS BLESSING IF YOU ARE CALLED TO PRAY FOR ISRAEL.  I checked it out and it works.

 

At the same time, as God is at work at this conference, He is also at work in the streets around us.  Before Britain’s bold move to remove the sting of the Paris talks, our streets were quite tense with anticipation.  The same chord was sounded wherever I listened.   As I waited for the train at the shuk, an older lady had her packages strewn across the bench while she slowly brushed her hair out and wrapped it into a thick, neat roll piled onto her head.

Another older woman wanted to sit and motioned her to move her packages, which she did.  Still brushing, she shook her head. “With all that is going on in Syria, in Iraq, with the Kurds, with the Turks, with the Sudanese, all the 72 nations can think about is condemning is us!”

The two heads shook in unison.  “What will happen now?” the second woman said.

“Oh, we will keep on but it will be harder.  America’s new President, what’s his name?  Trumpet?  He seems to like us, but will it last?” she trailed off.

They shook their heads again.  That was the body language seen all over – the shaking of the head.  “How can it be that there is this much hatred toward us and that no one seems to understand what is happening or even CARES about the TRUTH?”

Oh how much lighter the air was the following morning!  Eyebrows raised, people wondered at Britain coming up to the bat for us.  “Maybe their new leader WILL prove to be straight and strong?” people wondered out loud.

Maybe some of you remember Mali,  one of the secretaries that I work with, whom I love, and whom I have shared my love for Him. Many of you have prayed for her.  Today as I read about the ‘shocking upset in the E.U. elections yesterday – how TOTALLY unexpected the defeat of the left wing social democrat was and how upset everyone is with the win by the conservative candidate and how the polls were all wrong, I burst out laughing.

“I can barely believe it, but here it is. Look Mali.  God answers prayer!”

I explained to her a bit about the IFI conference.  “It only meets once a year?  Why doesn’t it meet every day?” she nearly yelled.

“Oh Mali, we meet several times a week but the people come from the nations to pray once a year,” I explained.

She is amazed to find out that people PAY THEIR OWN WAYS WITH MONEY to come here to pray for us.  She became full of questions as I shared about the answers to prayer and the urgency to pray for the nations at this moment in history.

“They KNOW that God (she says ‘h’shem – or ‘The Name’ and I say ‘Elohim’ or God Almighty and it doesn’t offend her) promised to Avraham that He would bless those who bless us and curse those who curse us.  Do you see the way that the storms hit them EVERY TIME they do these terrible things?” I told her.

Her turn to shake her head. “I can’t understand that,” she said. “How can someone not believe GOD?”

We have to get back to work but I see that she HEARD me and she is wondering.  Because her Rabbi told her not to listen to me, I have had to be very careful to not say anything without His leading. but He Who knows the heart is also The One Who makes the key to each heart.

It was a different response when I took a taxi to the conference.  I don’t often take taxis, but I have had some strong leg pains and the walk up to the hotel from the train seemed like a foolish move.  My taxi driver was an Arab man and we exchanged a few pleasantries, asking about one another’s families, health, the weather.

“What are you going to do at the hotel?” he asked me.

That was an unusual question.  ‘I’m visiting some friends and we are meeting together to pray.”

His eyes turned hard and immediately the atmosphere turned icy and then silent.  I realized that he must have known that it was a prayer for Israel conference.  Most people here know that God hears and answers prayer, but not everyone is happy with that.

Our son in law is also being touched by a new view on the reality of God.  It is such a blessing having them here and we have had ample opportunity to sow into their lives.  Thank you for praying for my son in law to be able to make ends meet with his work as a locksmith.  It is a challenge to establish a new business and he does not yet grasp the necessity of constantly working at advertising his services.

The other night he shocked us by giving up and saying that he wants to move back to America.  Yes, it was probably frustration speaking, but I continue to ask for prayer for them to be established and rooted in the land.  Even though he was born and lived most of his life here and our daughter has also been here for nearly 2/3 of her life, it is not easy here, and comparing it to America, where they just spent the past 4 years. The enemy loves to throw everyone discouraging lines if it leads away from God’s will.

Many of you pray regularly for aliyah, and you know that one of the main prayers is that those who come will also be rooted and blessed in the land.  Thank you for continuing to pray for them to be established here.  I have given Yitzhak’s card to many people whom I meet at work and several have called him for work, but he needs a steady stream of callers.  Mostly, they need to come to HIM, to find HIM Who is our Peace and our Wisdom in EVERY situation.  Thank you for praying.

Finally, before I fall into bed, one of the side blessings of the Prayer conference is once again getting to hug and have my heart stirred by old friends, and meeting and making new ones.  There is never enough TIME, because GOD must be the center and purpose, but oh what a joy to be with such a body.  I am overwhelmed by the love – the reflection of Himself – shown in each of His sheep.

 

Thank you for your prayers for this nation and people and for our family.  God bless you.  Your sister here,

J

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