Tonight, after the DeColores weekend wound down, I went downstairs at church to check out The Prayer Gathering, which meets in our building on Sunday nights. It was an incredible experience. I missed the first hour or so, and the prayer was in full swing when I sat down. Apostle Evans has a powerful anointing, he prayed for the world, for the community, for pastors, for people gathered there.
My ankles really blew up on the weekend; earlier this summer I had problems with edema, which I thought had gone away, but which returned with a vengeance. Some combination of rich food and sleep depravation, too much sitting and standing, no real walking or exercise. Anyway, I was thinking I wasn’t feeling good, and blamed the stress of the weekend, but I realized that I was resisting what was happening around me. I was observing and not participating. I started to breathe more deeply, I closed my eyes and entered into the prayer.
I’m still a white girl from the suburbs, overeducated and sometimes shockingly traditional. I’m not on board with miracle healings. Yet. What a gift, to be prayed for. Pastor John perceived much of what was going on with me and prayed for me, my love, my ministry. I watched him do that with many people in the room. The energy was so good, people were channeling the Spirit in many different ways, through tongues, touch, raised hands. The sincerity and love flowed.
After the final blessing prayer, people lingered, talking, hugging, cleaning up. We mentioned that the black chairs needed to go back upstairs, as we have a funeral tomorrow, and a couple of guys immediately started stacking and moving them. I tried to help, but this nice man stopped me. “I’ll do that,” he said. “I know you can, but let me.” I wandered off to check something else, I wanted to make sure DeColores left the building in good shape, but soon found someone to talk to. I ended up by the door saying goodbye to folks, wishing them well in the week ahead, receiving their thanks for letting them use the space.
“How typical is this, you’re working, while I’m schmoozing?”
“That’s a good thing.”
It was the first time I stayed to the end and really experienced what The Prayer Gathering is about. I think Kaye was glad to see me making connections with people. We have a dream, that this isn’t just a rental situation, but that it will grow somehow into shared ministry. Part of me hesitates, thinking that this Pentecostal prayer group will be too different for Immanuel’s mainline Lutherans. But I have no desire to resist the Spirit, which was strongly at work in every room of our building this weekend.