Angels, Outpourings and Such

(Note: I originally wrote this blog a week ago. I didn't plan to post it, but it turns out it's part of a larger story, so here it is.)

In recent weeks I've been drawn to faces. Faces in places where I usually make a point of avoiding them. In the grocery store—I usually go there to get what I need, look around, check out, look the cashier in the face, maybe chat with him or her, check out the face of the person who runs a cart in front of me—we may interact a bit. Here in the Midwest those kinds of encounters are usually fairly cordial--”Oh, I'm sorry.” “It's okay, no problem.” And people know how to put on their “cordial” mask.

So here lately I've been sneaking a peek at faces when people don't expect you to be looking at them. And let me tell you, it's left me aware that the human race has settled for living with a tolerable level of misery. Faces are generally sad, or angry, maybe bored, grouchy—these are the norm. The cheerful face is the exception.

I'm sad for people—and at the same time, they must think I'm absolutely off my nut when I go in there. It's hard not to glow sometimes. I feel like I kind of owe it to God to not try to hide what He's doing in my heart. It's just going to show on my face sometimes. So I go wander around at Walmart, and look at stuff and smile and look at faces and pray that God will bring revival or something so that fewer people will have to walk around with misery etched on their faces.

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Here's an update on the prayer for my daughter's eyes. They do continue to improve, I think. Every night we do eye exercises. AND every night we pray for her eyes.

I've heard there's a healing revival thing in Florida. First response is to try to figure out how to get down there with my daughter to get her in a healing line, just in case it's the real thing. Second response is, what's that all about? Is it real? And if so, why does God choose to heal in one spot—a city in Florida? So I check scripture and find that the idea of healing in one spot has biblical precedent. Remember the story about the guy who was stuck by the healing pool? Every now and then an angel would come along and stir the water and the first person to jump in would get healed. The Bible doesn't say they BELIEVED an angel came along...it says an angel came along—it's more than an old legend. For some reason God had an angel assigned to this pool and the sick people that came there.

But with Jesus came a more blanketing grace for healing. I mean, it seemed everyone who came to Him got healed. In fact, He went to that pool and healed a man who couldn't get into the water fast enough. So at that point all you had to do was get to Jesus and you could count on a healing. That was during Jesus' lifetime. During the apostolic times there were many healings, too. Then things tapered off. So nowadays—what about it? If scripture says, by His stripes we are healed, how come physical healing is not as automatic as forgiveness of sins? I suppose the answer is probably complicated by details about the spiritual world that we don't know.

So I can't get to this healing revival thing, but then I hear about people being healed while watching the services on GODTV. Well, I don't get GODTV. But with the internet being what it is, it doesn't take too much Googling to find bits of services on Youtube, and then there's a podcast you can subscribe to....so I downloaded a few things to listen to, and maybe understand more about why God heals more quickly in some situations than in others—and maybe there's healing for my little girl.

I listened to a bit of a podcast. There was talk of angels assigned for healing, and cities with healing angels waiting to be assigned to them. And I thought, well, that's it. My little town isn't worth assigning a whole angel to it. It's not strategically where you would want to assign such a thing. And all this talk of angels with jobs and healings and heavenly strategiesies has started to seem overwhelming. Really, I want my little girl to be healed. Could I possibly get some runoff while God runs the strategy room? And among all the things that were making my head spin was one question: “God, why DO You heal?”

I was thinking all these things on my way to church Sunday morning. I remember asking Him, “God, You do great things, things that don't make sense, when people pray and ask for them. How about a big dose of You for my church, too?” And God said, I kid you not, “Okay. Let's try it this morning.”

Well, that shut my mouth. I was quiet for that last couple of blocks to church. I was going in early to pick out music and get ready for the song service. I just drove on, dumbfounded. When I got there I noticed the van of one of my dearest friends, Deborah, the prayer warrior. What was she doing here this early? The door was unlocked, so I went in. All was dark. Was she here or not? Had the door been left unlocked? That wouldn't be good. I was relieved to see my guitar had not been stolen; I grabbed it and headed for the front of the sanctuary, where I'd last seen my book of songs. I heard a quiet voice...”Hello.” And there she was. The Lord had sent her in early to pray, she said. My heart skipped a beat. Was this a heavenly plan coming together? “I'm SO glad you obeyed God on this,” I said, and explained just a little bit about why. We shared our amazement for a moment, then I went to look for my book. Couldn't find it. What I DID find was a medley we do sometimes, a medley of songs specifically about honoring God. Well, I thought THAT might be appropriate, dontcha think? God's showing up and we might want to honor Him.

There was a spot between songs, and as the group practiced before church, I knew I was going to say something in that spot. And here's the talking point:

“We have a special guest here this morning. I just wanted to let you know, because I'm SURE you're going to want to get around to greet him and talk with him. I'm sure he's going to want to talk with you as well. It's Jesus Christ. And every time we gather, that's exactly how it should be. The next few songs that we do we're going to specifically honor God.......”

So as practice ended and Sunday School was set to begin, the seniors class was gathering in the sanctuary, and it was time for us to head to our classes. There's tension between me and these seniors. No offense to the senior readers of this blog, but I know there's tension because, even though we sing hymns, we've introduced choruses and an active seeking of God's presence and it's left many of the seniors sometimes tense and suspicious.

I scanned the room as I was getting ready to go downstairs. My eyes lit on Carol. Now, Carol is a sweet lady. She keeps up with every birthday in the church, and sends each one of us a card. Quite a gift, and it's not always appreciated like it should be, I think. I smiled and greeted her and she smiled and greeted me, looking no different than usual. But instead of moving on I stopped, looked her in the eyes, and that's when something remarkable happened. I asked her how she was doing--and I really meant it. She must have somehow known I meant it, because she told me. Turns out Carol's scheduled for a heart catheterization Wednesday. She was pretty scared. So I let her talk about it for a minute and let her know I cared, would be praying, and then went downstairs. And you know, the funny thing is, I really cared. Not like we care in a general way a lot of times, but I wanted to cry for her and her family and the fear they must be feeling for her.

After Sunday school I went back upstairs and started this weird thing, walking from person to person, scanning faces, looking past the smiling church masks, really looking them in the eye and asking how they're doing. I usually tend to be pretty wrapped up in my task, praying, seeking God's presence, and maybe kind of greeting people, but this morning my official greeting mask was down and I was connecting with people. And people were responding differently. It was a most enjoyable experience. I was greeting a lot of the seniors that way. The tension just wasn't mattering. I went over to some people who come from a group home for disabilities. We have about three different groups like that who come (I always find it a positive sign in a church, when they attract people who are “different”). So I went over and greeted them, not just saying hi and shaking hands. I asked names, looked them in the eye if they looked back; we were talking about their names, my name, and I just stood and chatted a minute. Then it was off to more seniors—I kept coming back to the seniors for some reason. And as I swept past the doorway into the sanctuary I saw a face I hadn't ever seen before. I said, “I don't think we've met—I'm Connie,” looking her in the eye in a way that, I think, told her I wish we HAD met—I wanted to know her. She responded like a friend instead of an uncertain stranger. She was Jamie, she was new to the area and was looking at churches. So we chatted a bit and I welcomed her in and helped her find a seat.

And so it went. Now, you have to understand, I am no social butterfly. I hold my own, but I'm about average when it comes to the social scene, and it took some work to get to average. But it was as if Someone with a better handle on social propriety had come along behind me, wrapped His arms around my arms, and was doing the work with me. My feet were propelling me from person to person, my mouth was opening to speak, but Someone else was looking at them with compassion, and was speaking to them, asking them all the right things, and they couldn't help but respond. It was such an effortless, exhilarating experience.

We sang our set, I said my thing about Jesus, and it was time to go around and greet people with a handshake. Yippee! I was soaring around the room again, having some fun. It was kind of like flying.

The pastor came by and asked if I could go greet someone new. Her name was "Jamie"....(already on it, pastor)..... and she was the wife of the new town planner....(Well, I won't hold it against her--having spent more than twenty years in the media, I've come to find celebrity to be a little irritating)....and she was Lutheran (Now I was impressed. We're a Baptist church. What was a big-time Lutheran doing on this side of the spiritual tracks?). Oh, well. Whatever her reasons for being here, I'm glad she showed up the one Sunday I would not be scared of a stranger.

So that's about it. No heavy sense of the presence of God that drove us to our knees or to the floor. Healing? Maybe. I don't know. Nobody shouted or anything. Not even a testimony. So was God's presence there? I put the question to Him, and rather than a word for word answer, I got this impression. God is within me. I went to church. I allowed Him to move in me and through me. And yes, since I was there and obedient, He was there. And He was there in the heart of each individual in the room who knew Him. And as we allow Him access to us, He delivers compassion where compassion is needed, comfort where comfort is needed, hospitality where hospitality is needed. Yes, He was there.

On the way out to my car I found myself walking along with my friend Deborah again. She said, “Why have I never seen those scriptures in Galatians (from the sermon) before?” (Deborah has read Galatians more times than I have, probably.) So out of my mouth popped this response: “Because the Holy Spirit was tapping you on the shoulder, saying, 'Your Teacher is here.'” After an affirming pause I asked, “So do you think God showed up this morning?”

“I'll say,” I think, was her reply.

This morning Deborah needed a teacher. Carol needed reassurance. "Jamie" needed to be welcomed to a new place. We each needed something, and God was there to help us each find the thing that we needed. And you know, while I was busy saying hello to people, I think I got a piece of an answer to my question, “Why does God heal?”. When He was here physically He healed because He had compassion on the multitude. He heals today and meets our needs because He has compassion. He just cares. Sunday He walked the room, touching this one, speaking to that one, teaching Deborah, welcoming Jamie, and teaching me how to care about people.

Did He show up? I'll say.