Fight on Babcock Road

Not all battles are obvious.  Not every fight is visible from the outside.  One morning my stomach went topsy-turvy, and I didn’t think too much of it.  Then I remembered the story of Job, where Satan afflicted him with physical sores from the soles of his feet to the top of his head.  Job's pain was so severe that he picked up a pottery shard to try and scrape away the agony (Job 2:7-8).  That was Satan's tactic then, and he might still attack physically today.  In fact, the more I pondered the idea, the more my topsy-turvy stomach served to motivate me.  I didn’t like the idea of Satan deterring me from anything.  I continued visiting patients at the hospital and recognized the Lord giving a particularly tender conversation, which Satan would have loved to hinder.  I drove to the abortion center to pray, as planned.  Interestingly the somersaults in my stomach ceased.  No more queasiness, and what an amazing joy that came for praying in a place so dark with death.  My joy deepened all the more for realizing the Lord’s power to thwart any of Satan’s antics.  All the more vibrant was my prayer.  I asked the Lord to bring life to that whole area, to shower love upon this property on Babcock Road to dispel and replace all that had been destructive in the past.  May those who enter that parking lot, those who walk or drive by, those who work inside the building, those who live in the neighborhood, and those who pray on the sidewalk know the depth of love and forgiveness that Jesus offers.  That’s a big prayer.  Yet we have a big God.

Saturday hospital plea

You know those days when you wake up so tired?  I'd love a nap.  Absolutely love it.  I lay down around 2:00, but my body wouldn’t relax.  I was restless.  Even with our sweet cat Sally hopping in my lap, the nap didn’t happen.  This Saturday a friend asked me to come to the hospital, and it would mean driving across town for a lengthy visit. Circumstances were complicated, and the Lord used my inability to sleep to spur me toward the car.  He parted the waters for an almost traffic-less drive, an easy hospital parking spot, and blessed conversation.  And you can learn a lot sitting in a hospital room.  In this case, I didn’t know who I’d meet.  Given my friend’s history of abuse and violence, would I meet some of her abusers?  Would I meet those who neglected her in childhood?  Or would the people have changed their ways?  I prayed for private time, hoping privacy might ease my friend into speaking freely.  But the Lord gave something different.  I walked into a roomful of guests, and one man motioned to me, “Please come in.  We’re speaking God’s word here.”  Still I didn’t know who this visitor was, but I entered, greeted everyone, and listened.  Another visitor came, this time wearing a black-and-white clerical collar, and I didn’t know him either.  Actually the whole occasion became quite inspiring, and all because the Lord didn’t give me what I asked for.  Never did I feel sleepy that afternoon, nor did I lack energy for participating in conversation.  In truth, I’m glad the Lord didn’t give me what I wanted.  We are meant to share our lives and not stay bottled in comfort of ourselves.  Instead of sleep, He gave me rest.  I can take a nap another day.